The Somerset reporter., 1906-10-25
While They
Waited ~
By Virginia Leila Weniz
Copyright, 1905, by C. H. Sutclfe
BY Virginia Leila Wen;

He jumped out of the little country
rig, leaving 1t In the hands of 81 freckle
faced boy, and rushed up to the ticket
office just as his train was pulling out
from the station
"Pshaw!" he exclaimed irascibly, and
then to the sleepy looking. contented
ticket agent, "When does the next
train leave for New York 2"
1.-TWO hours" replied that Individual
lacOncally.
Maverick Oliver wasn't a man to cry
over spilled milk. He sat himself
philosophcally down in a shady recess
of the waiting room and extracted a
notebook. He would look over some
memoranda he had jotted down for his
solicited article for the Review and
then take a stroll along the country
hedges. There seemed to be a rather
attractive bit OF woodland just beyond.
How long must | wait for connec.
tions for Roseclff"
Something in the weman's voice, half
contralto, half alto, made the man with
the notebook suddenly start. He'd
been so engrossedly coming his men,
oranda that he had scarcely noticed
the incoming train, with all its attend
ant hustle Now, however, a single
woman's voice made him start and
caused the Review article to be as far
from his thoughts as the military af-
fairs of nations b. C.
The womans back was turned to-
ward Oliver, but he knew it was Flea.
nor. Who else in all the world had
that queenly carriage, that soft slope
of shoulder, that bewitching mass Of
coiled chestnut hair?
"For Rosecliff?" came the ticket
agents mOnotonous voice as he caress-
ed his wrinkled forehead with the
back of his hand. "a half hour
ma'am. Trains sixteen minutes late"
The woman turned lmpatiently away
from the window
1t was then they came face to face.
"You" cried Oliver, sprnging up.
She stood there in the barren waiting
room, filling its emptiness with the
richness of her charm. To the mans
hungry eyes she was food of the most
satisfying as we'll as of the most dell
cate sort
She did not hold out her hand. Never.
theless she encountered him not in her
old imperious fashion, but with a smile
including him in some mood too large
to be wholly personal.
"How you have changed, Eleanor
he cried involuntarlly.
''Are you, too, waiting for a trainp
she answered softly in return. "In
which direction do you goY
"South-to New York" said Oliver
"And you"
'To Roseclffe, fourteen miles east"
Oliver took her umbrella and tiny
suit case from her, and then they
walked slowly up and down the plat
form together, man and woman, In
stead of husband and wife, held apart
by some strange fiat they had both ac-
cepted
In the fields, all around, the butter
cups were golden and the Wild carrot
was In white, lacelike flower. Over
In the woods beyond some song birds,
waking from their summer siesta, We're
beginning to warble. group of tray
cling men was lounglng on the railing
at the far end of the platform, ex-
pectoratlng copiously to punctuate the
points in their stories
Oliver busted the platform steps Mt
the other end OF the walk with his
handkerchief, and the woman sat Sc
renely down, her delicate profile out
lined against the clear blue Of the sky
like some exquisite cameo. She had
always been beautiful, though. 1t
wasn't that which made the man ex-
claim again lrrepresslbly:
you've changed So Eleanorr' 1t was
true. 1t was no mere fancy of his
imaginative writer's eye that discov-
cred new meanings in the face before
him. 1t had undergone vague but
very gracious transformation.
"Changed?" repeated she, with a
curious tenderness. 1--WE tried to
change-tried, do you understand?
Since last winter, when we agreed to
separate, I've been trying-so hard,
Maverick-to take control Of my own
stunted nature, turn it where 1t
twists
Dear" broke in Oliver, with n bit
ter humility, I'VE were both to blame
both, do you hear? And I'm afraid
you've been cleverer than l If you've
unsnarled things where they failed to
fit the pattern. I've not changed much,
I'm afraid"
Under her black lashes the woman
smiled at him with reverence he
might have translated (had he been
high plumed) as some loyal acquies-
cence in his former state. What Oil
yer felt now, however was curiosity in
his young wife, not in himself. So
''Tell me-" he burst forth, what has
changed you so?"
She rolled up her absurd little hand
kerchlef into a string and, throwing it
over her knee, pulled it unconsciously