The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1906-12-13

at my machine Perhaps by this time
Its changed its mind. There, you seer
and bis car began putting with an
alacrity which might have awakened
0livias suspicious, but she had no
chance to analyZe her emotions.
Its good thing my machine is Gov
cred" he Went on, for we are going to
have bit. of storm" He snatched
up his dust colored coat and held 1t out
for her. I'm sorry it's so cumber-
some," he said. smiling. "thougl at
least It's protection"
Olivia was lost in the folds of it, and
the wind whipped her veil out banner
like and she stepped into Willoughby's
car. The storm had broken on them,
and the rain drove bindingly In their
faces. Trees, fields and road seemed
blotted out. The rain was still coming
down In torrents as the two machines
spurted up the gravel driveway under
the Foresters' porte cochere, and VIII
loughly opened the door for Olivia as II
1t was an everyday occurrence, though
none of his family had set foot within
the Forester grounds In a lifetime.
Olivia. dlsheyeled and breathless,
stood dripping In the hall, while her
father in a passion Of resentment listen
ed to the story of her afternoons ad-
venture. And In the house across the
way young Willoughby unused with an
unlighted pipe between his lips. What
would she have thought" he murmured,
''if she had known that the breakdown
of my bully old motor was nothing but
a ruse from start to finish? But alPs
fair in love and motoring"
But the barriers of the feud were
down, and between Olivia and VIII
loughby acquaintance deepened into
Intimacy They took long rides through
the country. the two machines whrl-
ing along side by side. I've never had
chauffeur" said Olivia on one of
these occasions.
Put you should" Willoughby whim.
sically protested Il know of some one
who's longing for the place.
'Why, what began Olivia and then
stopped. The look in Willoughby's eyes
was not one of banter.
I'm not worthy of it." he went on,
"but still dare to ask. And If you'll
say yes I'll do my best to steer
straight and well and guard you to the
end of the journey Will you trust me,
OliyiaY
always" she answered, and from
H., oil Of hn
which they rode it seemed as If the
whole world lay golden before them.
But their dream was destined TO end
with startling abruptness when Will
loughby wrote to her father, for 1t
gave the old gentleman a grim salts
faction to refuse all terms of concilla-
ton. He cherished the feud because 1t
belonged to the old order Of things, and
for him custom was not easily uproot-
ed To Olivia's many entreaties be
made the same obdurate answers. But
there was in her spark of the same
unquenehable fire that burned In him,
and his determination famed It's en-
bers to a blaze as she went quietly on
with her neutrality-suspicious. of
which no one knew save Willoughby
and Mr. MacWurter, the village JUS
tice, who had known Olivia since child
hood.
This is romantically old fashioned
enough to suit even your father" de-
clared Willoughby as they sped through
the moonlit night on their way to the
S:15 train.
Olivia's answer was clutch on his
arm. Listen" she cried. We're be-
ing followed It's father-ln my ma
chine-with Murray, the groom"
Willoughby's chauffeur put on full
speed, and the waiting MacWurter was
caught up with cyclonic rapidly. The
car was still plunglng forward at a
terrific rate as he jolted out the words
of the hurried ceremony. 1t was a
race for love- and the auto won-barely
won; they had not reached the village
station before the other machine came
alongside.
For the first time In many years old
Chiffon Forester had been completely
taken out of himself. The long stretch
of road, white In the moonlight, the
crisp air of night rushing past him, had
filled him with a tremendous exhilara-
ton. He half forgot the lovers in the
keenness of this new sensation. His
blood felt like wine in his veins. The
ivory tint of his face had taken on Il
glow. His eyes sparkled. To Ollvia's
startled gaze he looked strangely
young. OF the torrent of denunciation
that the runaway pair had expected
there was none.
you young fools" said Chiffon For
ester pleasantly, you young foolsp
And then, leaning toward his son-in-
law he inquired with passionate inter
est, What is the make of your ma
chineY
Thus ended the Forester feud.