The Montgomery advertiser., 1906-12-16

Maurice! Mauricer' he hissed eemon- iacally. 'Ts she false? Has she for saken me7'
 Hardly conscious of what he did. he wrote a short note to his publishers. instructing them te publish his story under c nom de plume. and folding the manuscript, he wrapped and addressed 1t.
 she shall not know that wrote it." spitefully.
 Exhausted by the intensity of his emotions and his hard work. he sank leaning forward, buried his face in his arms.
 She found him there the next mora ing none tho worse for not having re- tired in tho regular way. His story was not mentioned, and in a few days. to all appearance it was forgotten, along with it's accompanying incidents.
 Neither had really forgotten that night, but both hesitated to recall t. He was constantly berating himself for his unthoughtfulness, and endeav- bring in every way to make reparation. Except on rare occasions when he had special work on hand hs would devote his entire evenings to her. He mani- Tested an interest in her house work something marvellous for him, she thought; would go out with her of evenings. and on the whole was as at-
 
 honeymoon.
 She reciprocated, meeting him moro than half way. He could see now that the interest she showed in his work was genuine.
 They had reached e state of happi- ness they had never before experienced. Each wondered what had brought about the change in the other. If they had been given to self-analysis, they would have discovered that they were individually responsible for the changes wrought in themselves.
 Some weeks passed. One evening they were sitting at the table they used for both writing and reading pur- poses. He was busy on q special for the coming Sunday edition. His pen glided along with such an easy grace that 1t fascinated her. She had never noticed 1t before. As she watched him write she wondered why she did not feel any more that impatience that once haRrassed her. She waited pa- tiently for him to fniSh, her fingers marking page in the magazine which jay in her lap.
 He stuck his pen behind his ear, and showed the manuscript toward her. She read it eagerly, interest showing in every line of her finely featured face. A few suggestions were offered and ao- cepted; a few corrections made. and the paper waa placed in drawer.
 "Elliott. have you read thls7' she hei6 the book open at shs place her EfnkeFs marked.
 He started.
 rI saw that start, Mister" she laugh i ed toyously. T know now who wrote | it Iknew one of us did. but wasn't certain which of us # was, her eyes were sparkling depths of mystery.
 "Why. my dear. what do you meanf' he asked. very much puzzled This. Do you remember the night | you worked 50 late you forgot to go 10 bed--the story you wrote that you ! did not let me readT'
 fBy jovei I didn't read that story over myself. But I can remember 1t word for word. almost as I wrote 1t. You remember you asked me to talk 10 you. Since then have often wonder cd why did not talk to you more, for I always got an idea from something you said. You pleaded in such 6 piti- full way that night that It touched me and I saw what a brute I had been 10 you. But before that thought had time to make q deep impression q was SO hardened you know) the story came to me in a flash and forgot all else"
 The shadows of a frown, an express. sion of a hurt, passed over her tace' He noticed 1t.
 
 wounded pride, T poured my heart out to YOU in that story. I know 1t would make you understand.
 "Yes' understand, Elliott" she Uzhispefed meditatively, and recalled to him the night she said those wordS using another name. His heart acheo with Jealousy, and he longed to speak to her about those words wnispeFea In her sleep to a party unknown to him. but he held his peace, having pre- sentment that 1t would all be cleared.
 ''You have not explained your enig- nautical statement yet" breaking the slight pause that had come into the what statementT" Her eyes fash ed as she crowded out the fancies and dreams that had taken possession or her for an instant.
 You said you were not certaln which of us was the author of that story" he reminded her. Q. yes: I was so lonesome the night you composed it, and so longed TOT you to lay everything else aside and talk to me; but we had hardly said two words before you began to write sud- denly as though your life and mine oe pended on it. I sighed wearily ana pitied myself. even cried a little, but van did not notice it. Then I went to he'd and pondered long, trying to dis cover what I had said that had given vou the idea for your story. At least | it came to me as 1t did to you, in flash. To my surprise l found myself looking at things from your view point [ saw myself In a new lSht and knew that I had been as much to blame as YOU. Now comes the strange part. heard the clock strike two before went to sleep; I could hear your pen scratching across the paper. and the monotony of 1t put me to sleep, and dreamed a story that was word TOT word this story
 He loked at her incredulously.
 Did you know that l went Into your room that night and kissed your Did you know that you threw your arms around my neck and whispered, 'Hes' understand. Mauricer
 She smiled understandingly.
 T wasn't certain that I did, but l dreamed tt as a part of the story Its set down here" pointing to the story.
 'Whaty He grasped the magazine, and she indicated the paragraph.
 q, too, must have been in trance that night, for I did not remember naming Maurice but 1t all comes to me now
 "It is strange that I should dream the story that you wrote, but it Is true. Are you psychologist enough to explain it?"
 He went to her side, and, placing his arms around her. kissed her fervently.
 NO, dear, but I am lover enough, l guess it is the same old story. Two hearts with a single beat; two minds of a single thought