The Newark journal., 1906-02-16
HIS FATAL DELAY 4 S
  By HAROLD oHLSON

!. HE poet his fur-lined oyercoat
 buttoned over his chest, boldly faced the bitter wind that blew in from the sea. Half of dark-red sun was hidden in the murk of winter sky; the cold was intense. but Gerald was i filled with a fine elation as he gazed over the waste of gray water. For the moment he felt as a monarch over looking his kingdom; he was confident of viking ancestors. he knew Christine was watching him; he hoped his nose was not red.
 Christine had explained to him that the ear had been stopped on the cliff in order that Mr Finducane might crawl under it and hit it with a ham mer She added that it seemed to her a mean thing to do. But while Gerald perfected an attitude she was urging the mechanic to hit harder the situa l ton was exposed. In spite, however, of her encouragement and advice. it was a considerable time before he cheerful eountenance of Mr Finducane 1 appeared, to announce that he thought sne'd do now The de- ] scendant of the vikings was glad to tuck his legs under the wraps and find the distance that separated him from a comfortable fire 1essening.
 Gerald. coming on a visit to the l Hartoyers. had been met at the station by the pride and hope of that family l tso Christine described herself) and her cousin. Bob Findueane. They had whirled the unhappy poet, something of a hothouse plant. many miles over a frozen country, in order. as they eX- plained. that he might acquire an ap- petite for his dinner.
 All the previous acquaintance he had enjoyed with Christine had gone to show him that she was the only wom- an in the world whom he could rely on to make him happy It was his i great purpose to live surrounded by 1 objects of beauty; his flat in town was a feast for the eye. And Christine dainty. graceful, laughing Christine would be strictly in keeping with his furniture.
 After dinner Gerald succeeded in solatine Christine and himself and deep gloom settled on Bob Finducane He could not understand how Chris tine tolerated the fe1loW-"a miser- able sort of chap" was Bob's opinion
 Christine is getting very friendly with the celebrated poet he re marked to Mir. Hartover.
 Yes
 lie talked awful rot al dinner continued Bob as if seeking the secret of the poets charm Said the fret and hurry of the present day-I won der if the car suggested it?-said 1t was running society,"
 Society likes being ruined" said Mir Hartoyer. cheerfully.
 For himself he said he liked soIi- tude and peace. quiet cavern tn some distant hillside was-was his ticket I say. I wish he'd got one"
 IL was on the third day and in the dusk of the afternoon. that Gerald and l Christine happened to be alone to- ] gether in the drawing-room. watching the flame of a great fire leap and flicker casting so cheerful light into the room that Christine had stoutly . 'tA'''A 'ti' 'tt'i it- lio VI fi ''i f'1AlN W AiC had entered with matches.
 For once Gerald had forgotten @1e value of Words-his words-and had sat in silence for some time medita- lively considering the teacup in his hands. Ii was Christine who spoke first
 T believe we have both been 6raa mi cba coid
 Dreams are the wires that bear us 10 the pleasant lands o inc "astles and fairy palaces, . said the poet
 '0r to your cave?' asked Christine
 Nc; I was dreaming of a beautiful house with bright flowers and old trees round it. with the sunlight streaming through great windows, giving life and youth to the fancies of dead painters on the walls; a house filled with the treasures that art gives to her servants. and with. above all" |, Gerald hesitated. for once at a loss for some effective suggestion.
 Christine, serenely obtuse, suggested the roof
 No, said Gerald. putting down his teacup and smiling faintly, some one to pour out the tea