The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1907-05-22
Thanks to the
Weather. K
By JOANNA SINGLE.

IL W ITS tilt Ntuilltl III lllt litSl pace,
thought Edith very drearily as she
watched the rain beat against the Win
dow II she and Richard had not been
caught In a sudden shower to the ut
ter ruin of her very prettiest dress, she
would never have been irritable and
quarreled With him about nothing ut
all. and she would not have expected
him to take the fault upon himself
when she alone after the weather
was to blame. And now 1t had rained
for nearly week, and the inaction
was driving her wild. She could only
think. think and vainly try to over
come her pride and send for him.
Fer the thousandth time she drew
from her dress his last letter and re-
read 1t:
DearestWe have been friends and
neighDors and sweethearts all our lives
and should not let anything come between
us. love you. and IL you viii just send
one word saving you want me | will come
mt your call and forget the nothing we
quarreled about. Should We let anything
childish part u.s. | look for word
from you II IT does not come, shall
know that you really meant to break our
bic you. But you couldn't have meant It.
Edith? Fraternally yours.
That was all. but she had sent him
no word, thinking that IN time he
would come anyhow. and then she
would let him coax her out Of her
anger But he had not come. and she
could not fail To respect him for refus-
ing TO be played with.
So she was very wretched and
blamed her own pride and the weather.
The rain beat down warmly and inter
mittently, and NIL nature expanded and
throve under its moist influence. Edith
looked across the fields to the south to
Richards home, which one day was
To have been also hers. and saw him
out In the rain on his horse, coming
from the town Il few miles away. How
often they two had ridden about the
country together. Aud now II WAS all
over lie would never come back to
her unless she sent for him. Could
she do IT. 1t was early In the after
noon. and she might send her little
brother over with II note. She hest
tated: then she went TO her room and
sat down Ia her desk 1t would be Il
relief To write to him. even II she
could not bring herself to send 1t to
him.
Dear Richard-Wil you come to see me
tonight? ! was horrid. and l am very
sorry IL | had not been wet and cross
| should not have thought OF caring be-
cause YOU rode to town with Fay. OF
course you could not help her overriding
you. She always was forward. Forgive
me and come back. You know that
love you always. EDITH
She sat looking at It, Then her heart
misgave her Ii had been two long
months since they parted, and he might
no longer care for her He might care
for Fay The neighbors had said he
had been to see her The letter was
altogether too unguarded. She could
not tell him she loved him. SO she
carelcssly thrust 1t into her dress with
the letter from him.
She tried to busy herself about the
house. but somehow she could not
work. She was restless and felt as II
her mother and sister saw 1t and would
know that she frettej for Richard. She
tried TO read In her own room. but It
seemed like prison
Along about 3 o'clock she felt as II
the day had been years long. She
could bear 1t no longer. She put on
some heavy shoes and an old water
proof riding habit, wound her fair hair
closely under little cap and stood be-
fore the glass thinking what fright
she looked and rather rejoicing In the
fact What was the use of being beau
tiful when Richard no longer loved
her!
She slipped out to the barn and sad
died Ginger, her little mare, mounted
and rode quickly out OF the gate and
northward, as she did not want to pass
Richards house. Her mother saw her
ride off In the storm and wondered If
the girl was going crazy, but was too
late to call after her At first Ginger
wheeled and refused to believe that
she was expected to splash her dainty
hoofs through such pools of mud and
water. but after few snorts Of pro
test Edith convinced her with the quirt
that this wind and rain were really to
be faced, and the little beast settled
into n spitoful trot.
Edith rather reioiced in bufieting the
storm. The rain and wind cooled her
hot cheeks. aud the open air relieved
the unbcarablc tension of her nervous
ness. For the first time since the trou-
bic with Richard she allowed herself
the unrestrained luxury Of tears. Here
ont in the open, with the sting Of rain
drops IN her face. she was free from
prying eyes. She did not need to keep
up her pride, and she could be as
wretched as she really felt. She did
not look about her, but rode mile after
mile, letting the mare take her own
course
After riding an hour or so she no.
ticed that the storm abated and, look
Ing up. saw that the clouds were less
dark Here and there was n CLEAN OF
blue though the warm wind still blew
intermittent drops into her face. She
drew her collar closely about her neck
and pulled her cap over her eyes and
rode on with her own thoughts
At last an idea came to her. Why
not phone to Richard-just call him
up and talk to him In the old way
about nothing In particular and, If he
made 1t easy for her, ask him to
come to see her that evening? Strong
In this new resolve, she looked to see
where she was and realized that after
a long detour they were about mile
below Richards house. which they
must pass. She could not go back, fol
1t was probably near evening. The
sun threatened to break through the
clouds near the horizon. The rain had
entirely ceased. She felt tired, but
happier and quiet after the relief Of
tears.
Then she remembered a way through
Richards fields that they had often
taken. She would have to pass bad
slough, but that could not be helped.
He must not see her In her present
hn 70.