The Montgomery advertiser., 1907-03-28

Al pensity for trying experiments seemed | to have been born in her.
 Roger, in the depths of his soul, had always disapproved of trained nurses Her last escapade had completely con vinced him that there was nothing more unsuited for a woman than such pro- fession.
 was there any other circumstance, he asked himself, that would have made Il seem proper to Mrs. Keener's household that Cynthia should sit in that man Harding's room all the morning, admin istering little doses of medicine, simpiy because Harding's cold had given him a fever that made him talk out of his head?
 Mrs Keener or one of the servants could have given that medicine.
 T was sorry not to go rowing with you last evening--the moonlight on that river is something one doesn't see always"
 There was an expression in her eyes that was reminiscent.
 Roger broke off viciously the piece of honeysuckle vine that had been tick ling the back of his neck
 There were perhaps other things that appealed to you more," coidiy.
 "You know I prefer rowing" ia sinuatingly.
 .Perhaps--if Harding had been well enough to do the rowing. Not that 1 believe he's sick enough to amount to anything" refusing to give an iota Of doubt as to Harding's general duplicity of nature.
 "Hs talked out of his head-all about A girl" She shamelessly broke all rules of etiquette as to confidence be- tween nurse and patient.
 Rogers increased scowl annihilated the possibility of belief that he ever had been. or ever could be joy to any soul
 .sThat's exactly what I thought he was raving about" hotly-"ail about loving a girl"
 Tt was evidently a very nice girl he called her dearest--I think he even referred to her as--er --an angel" The childishness of her smile seemed insuf- ficient cause for the symptoms Of apoplexy Roger was exhibiting.
 And you sat there all the morning and let that Idiot make love to you---'' His sentence was swallowed in a snort of disgust.
 Cynthia glanced at the writing pad near her, wondering if it would not be salutary to Rogers manners if she ror- got his existence and wrote letters the rest of the morning.
 As the scratching of her pen became more noticeable, the audience thought 1t owing to its dignity to disperse. and walked across the lawn toward the gate, It's hands stubbornly in its pock- cts.
 Roger leaned over the gate discon- solately. She had seemed so different the last time they had been on the riv- CT. She had really come so near say ing-everything he wanted her to say ---that he had walked around for hours afterward in a state of ecstasy.
 He tried to possess his soul in pa- tience, waiting for the next evening, when she had promised to go with him on the river and perhaps--say exactly what he wanted her to say. Roger con- sidered 1t a piece of malignity of fate that Harding-that Idiot Harding should have been taken so ill--or, at least, should have pretended he was so violently i'll. The soreness of his heart added a suggestion that Cynthia prob ably jumped at an escape from giving him the answer he was so anxious for.
 The pleasant odor from the honey suckle vines that clambered over the hedge-the effect of the, soft breeze that gradually famed some of the heat from his brow-something induced him to saunter slowly toward the veranda. Cynthia had probably, he thought, had time to finish her letter in the half hour that had elapsed
 He saw that she was fast asleep evidently she had not been worrying much. There was note conspicuous ly addressed and conspicuously pinned on a ruf1e of the rose-colored cushion.
 He reached for it with an eagerness he would never have allowed the walk ing Cynthia to behold. Perhaps, after all, she might be amenable to reason ing, her somewhat fiighty nature might gain soSriety from contact with him. Cynthia with a slight addition of so- briety-he gave a sigh that intimated 1t was more bliss thaA one man could properly realize. His fingers were ner- vous as he tore the note from its en- velope.
 "Joy of my soul"--it ran--"your moods are truly a delight. They afford all kinds of opportunities for studies in human nature. After all, we are rath- CT much alike, a mere matter of tenn perament, I suppose. If you prefer calling yours righteous indignation. I don't mind-mine can still go under the name of plain temper.
 He was really sick, Roger, and the girl he raved about he called Helen. am awfully fond of rowing, and am ready to go on the river any time, whether the sun is shining broiling hot or the moon like 1t was the other night Just as soon as your righteous indignation calms down to a degree that would make 1t safe for person to get within ten feet of you"
 Roger leaned over into the depths of the hammock, his face well mixed with pink cushion and sleeve ruf1es
 wake up, Cynthia" he whispered. I'm in a heavenly frame of mind"