The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1906-05-18

VEINS all AOFCl ohAoAu VI al OAA
friend"
IAN old friendl" he repeated, soft
ly, with his eyes upon aer face. Have
you ever thought that that might be
a sorrowful word to listen to-"
Friendship is never a sorrowful
word" she answered, her eyes falter-
ing little under his earnest gaze.
1T might be if we cared for some
thing more than friendship" he said,
and there was something in mis- tone
which made her lift her eyes in a
sudden, questioning way to his face.
There was strange, grave tender
ness in MS eyes that she had seen
there long ago.
Just then Ellie came up the path
with her hands full Of roses.
''See these white hoses, Aunt Mar
gerry" she cried; your favorites, you
know. You must let me put some in
your hair. They Will make her look
like bride, won't they, Mr.. Cramer?"
Perhaps" he answered, with his
eyes on the blue line of the hills.
mo, don't want any in my hair, !"
Margery said, and she would not have
them there. She took one, and let it
lay against her eyes while she closed
them and thought of many things.
Presently John woke from his rev.
erie and came back to earthly things.
Il believe promised you row this
morning, Elfie," he said, turning to
the girl, as she stood braiding the
roses into chain Il am ready to full
FL my promise if you are"
I'll be ready in minute" she
said, and ran away for her nat.
Somehow can't make it seem that
fifteen years have been added to our
lives since we used to go drifting
down the river together" he said,
coming to Margery's side. care we
always to go drifting down through
life alone, Margery?"
She lifted her eyes that were al
most frightened ones for moment.
Was he trying to wiring her heart? He
was cruel, cruel
Eyes, I suppose so,' sne answered,
in a tone that was full of the weari-
ness she could not conceal. "And 1t
is better so, perhaps"
"You don't mean that" he said, bend
ing to pick UP the rose she had let
fall Drifting alone is a dreary,
dreary thing"
do you think SOP" she said, vita
an effort to appear at ease. perhaps
there is some one somewhere in the
world who would drift with you, if
you could find ner."
do you know where she is?" he
asked, bending down till she could feel
his breath upon her cheek, as they
heard Elites step upon the stairs.
who is she, Margery?"
'How should I known" she answer
ed, with a forced gayety. "You must
seek her, if you would find her. II
l knew, though, would tell you"
He looked at her in puzzled way.
He could not understand her. A mo-
ment ago he would nave sworn that
she loved him. Now her face was
like mask, and apparently she was
thinking as little of him as OF the
Sphinx.
81 am ready" Ellie said, and then
he turned and joined her on the steps.
And Margery watched them with
weary pain in her eyes. she believed
he loved this girl.
The sun was shining on the river
as if the clouds were sitting gold dust
over each ripple, as Margery sat
down upon the bank and began to
read. It had been lonesome day for
her. Ellie had come home with a
headache, and everybody else had
gone away. she had tried to read
indoors, but the afternoon languor
prompted her to take her book and
seek some spot where there was less
of lotus-spell on everything. She
opened her book at a little poem of
Philip Marston's called, 'Ungathered
Love-" 1t was a quaint, sweet little
thing-sad as winds in autumn time,
and in perfect accord with her
thoughts. AS she read, the tears crept
into her eyes, and when she had I'm
ished it the river and the world be-
yond it was hidden in mist.
The splash of oars reused her, and
she saw John Cramer drifting down
the river at her feet.
you here, Margery?" he cried.
"And crying? What are you reading
that has touched you so?"
He gave his boat turn and shot
it in among the lilies by the bank be-
fore she really knew what he was
doing, and was sanding by aer with
her book in his hand. and read softly
one little verse of the poem:
when the autumn winds go wailing
Through branches yellow and
brown,
When the gray, sad light is failing,
And the day is going down,
l hear the desolate evening sing
OF a love that bloomed in the early
spring,