The Montgomery advertiser., 1907-04-23
THANKS TO TIE WEATHER
~ Joanna single.


Copyrighted. 1907. by e. c. Purcells.)
II was the weather In the first place.
thought Editha 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 ruion of her very pretttest dress,
she would never have been irritable
and quarreled with him about nothing
at all, and she would not have ex-
pected him to take the fault upon HIM
self when she alone-after the weather
was to blame. And now 1t had
rained for nearly q week and the in
action was driving her wild; she could
only think. think, and vainly try to
overcome her pride and send for MIN.
For the thousandth time she drew
from her dress his last letter, and re-
read 1t.
'Dearest-we have been friends and
neishbors and sweethearts all our lives
and should not lot anything come be-
tween U.S. / love you. and II you viii
Just send one word saying you want
me I will come at your call and forget
the nothing we quarreled about. Should
we let anything so childish part usf l
look for q word from you. IL 1t does
not come shall know that you really
meant to break our engagement, ana
shall of course not trouble you. But
you c0utQnL nave InSdhb ~, IIdAtAt
"Fraternally yours.
Richard Copeland"
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 an
ger. But he had not come and she
could not fail to respect him for re-
fusing to be played with.
So she was very wretched ana
ND he xxra
The rain beat down warmly and In
termittently, and all nature expanded
and throve under it's 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 rain on his horse. COM
ing from town few miles away. How
often they two had ridden about the
country togetherl And now It was all
over--he would never come back to
her-unless she sent for him. Could
she do TIT It was early in the after
noon and she might send her little
brother over with q note. She hesita-
ted, then she went to her room and sat
down to her desk. 1t would be a re-
| lief to write to him-even Ii she could
not bring herself to send 1t to him.
Dear Richard:-Win you come to
| see me tonight? I was horrfd, and
am very sorry. If had not been wet
and cross I should not have thought
of caring because you rode to town
with Fay. OF course. you could not
help her overtaking you-she always
was forward.
"Forgive me and come back. Hou
know that love s'a7"i"a aEa.tA.."
She sat looking at 1t. Then her
| heart misgave her. 1t had been two
longs months since they parted. and nc
might no longer care for her; he mign.
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. Sc
she carelessiy thrust 1t into her dress
with the letter from him.
She tried to busy herself about TIM
house. but somehow she could no
work; she was restless, and felt as i
her mother and sister saw It and woul'
know that she fretted for Richard. sh
tried to read in her own room, but !
seemed like a prison.
Along about 3 o'clock she felt as
the day had been years long; she coul
bear IL no longer. She put on som
heavy shoes and an old waterproof rid
ing habit, wound her fair hair closel
under a little cap and stood before IN
glass thinking what a fright she locke
and rather rejoicing In the fact. VIVA
was the use of being beautiful whel
Richard no longer loved herr
She slipped out to the barn and sad
died Ginger, her little mare, mounte'
ana rode quickly out of the gate an
| northward, as she did not want to pas
Richards house. Her mother saw he
ride OFF in the storm, and wondered 1
the girl was going crazy, but was to-
late to call after her. At first Ginge
| wheeled and refused to believe tina
she was expected to splash her daint,
hoofs through such pools of mud ant
| water, but after a few snorts OF pro
test. Edith convinced her with the quir
| that this wind and rain were reall!
| to be faced, and the little beast set
| tied into a spiteful trot.
| Edith rather reJoiced in buffeting tn
| storm; the rain and wind cooled he
hot cheeks. and the open air relieves
the unbearahle tension OF her merry
| BUSINESS. For the first time since tn
trouble with Richard, she allowed her
self the unrestrained luxury Of tears
Here, out in the open, with the sttn
| of rain drops in her face. she was fire.
| from prying eyes, she did not neet
/ to keep up her pride, and she coul'
be as wretched as she really felt. Sh
did not look about her, but rode mil
after mile. letting the mare take he
| OWN COut5G
After riding an hour or so she no
| ticed that the storm had abated, an
looking up saw that the clouds wer'
less dark. Here and there was
CLEAN of blue, though the warm wins
still blew intermittent drops into he
face. She drew her collar closely abou
her neck and pulled her cap over he
eyes and rode on with her OWL
thoughts.
At last an idea came to her. VIII!
not phone TO Richard. Just call hin
up and talk to him in the old wa!
about nothing in particular And 4
he made 1t easy for her. ask him t
come to see her that EVENING" Stront
in this new resolve she looked to se'
where she was, and realized that afte
a long detour they were about mill
below Richards house, which they mus
pass. She could not go back. for Il
was probably near evening. The sur
threatened to break through the clouds
near the horizon. The rain had entire
ly ceased She felt tired, but happier
| and quiet after the relief OF tears.
Then she remembered way through
Richards fields that they had OTTER
taken. She would have to pass a bat
slough, but that could not be helped
he must not see her in her presen
plight. She realized that her face wai
swollen and her eyes red with weep
| ing, and that she was covered with
mud, her hair was flying wildly
| though the dampness always made Il