Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1907-07-26

thought Edlth ei eetlIS al shs
watched the fil'I bea gainat the win-
dow. II she and Richafd bad not been
caught In sudden shower ID kgle w.
ter ruin OF her very prettiest Dress ehe
would never have been irritable and
duarFeled with him about nothing at
all, and she would not have expected
him to take the fault upon himself
when she aione--after the woather7,
was to blame. And now It had rained
for nearly n 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.
For the thousandth time she drew
from her dress his last letter andaxe-
read It:
Dearest-we have been friends and
neighbors and sweethearts all our lives
and should not let anything come between
us. love you. and IL you will Just send
ono word saying you want me will come
at your call and forget the nothing we
Quarreied about. Should we let anything
so childish part usf I look for a word
from you. II It does not come. shall
know that you really meant to break our
engagement and shall Of course not trou-
BILE you. But you couldn't have meant II.
Edithf Fraternally yours.
RICHARD COPELAND. 4
That wssA all, but she had sent him
no word, Shrinking that in time he
would come anyhow, and then she
would let him coax her o1EENf her
anger. But he had not come, md she
could not fail to respect him for refus-
ing to be played with.
H. AL.
blamed her own pride and the weather.
Tho rain beat down warmly and inter
mittently, and all 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 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. Gould
she do it2 1t was early in the after
noon, and she might send her little
brother over with note, She hest
tated; then she went to her room and
sat down to her desk. 1t would be
relief to write to him, even IL she
could not bring herself to send 1t to
him.
Dear Richard Will you come to see me
tonight7 ] was horrid. and / am very
sorry II l had not been wet and cross
I should not have thought of caring be-
cause you rode to town with Fay. OF
course you could not help her overtaisinS
you She always was forward. Forgive
n.aAl IN LeNAu i
love you-always. EDITH.
She sat looking at 1t. Then her heart
mlsgave her. 1t had been two long
months since they parted, and he might
no longer care for her. He might care
for Fay. The nelghbors had said he
had been to see her. The letter was
altogether too unguarded. She could
not tell him she loved him. SO she
carelessly 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 X
her mother and sister saw 1t and would
know TINT she fretted for Richard. She
tried to read In her own room, but II
seemed like prison.
Along about 0 o'clock she felt as II
the day had been years long. She
could bear It 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 II
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 a 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 spIteful trot.
Edith rather rejolced In buffeting the
storm The rain and wind cooled her
hot cheeks, and the open air relieved
the unbearable tension Of her nervous
ness. For tho first time since the trou-
bic with Richard she allowed herself
the unrestrained luxury of tears. Here
out In the open, with the sting Of rain
drops In her face, she was free from
prylng eyes. She did not need to keep
up her pride, and she could be as
wretched rs 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 80 she no
ticed that the storm abated and, look
ing up, saw that the clouds were less
dark. Here and there was a 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, II he
made II 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