Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1907-12-19
From, Her Own
Experience
BY ANNA BANCROFT coUsHANE
Copyright. by Daily, Story Pub. Coz


character delineations perfect-but
my dear young woman, there is some
thing very essential lacking, some
thing in the quality. Probably it has
not occurred to you to put it in just
that way, but do you think you could
write intelligently of the life and hab-
it's of the natives of Africa, unless you
personally visited the country"
why, no l don't suppose l could,
but then l haven't any idea of writing
on any such subject"
"Of course not, of course not,
simply wanted you to know that you
can't write love stories that have the
true ring, until you've been in love
yourself. Hang on to this story; don't
let it get out of your possession; keep
it six months, a year, two years if
necessary, then rewrite it, bring it
back and we'll take it right gladly.
Don't try to do it now, though; you'd
only make botch of it."
Disappointed and discouraged Ruth
Ainslie walked down Broadway. Its
well enough for Mr.. Brown to talk
about people experiencing the things
they write about" she thought. Il
wonder if he imagines people fall in
love to order. One would think a love
affair was like a newspaper assign
ment, and that 1t was only necessary
for him to tell me to write from ex-
perience in the same way an editor
tells a reporter to cover story.
Something lacking in the quality, was
there? Horrid thing. he needn't have
been so brutally frank about it. Well,
if there is something lacking in the
quality of the story then there must
have been something lacking in the
quality of the love-making I've known.
l suppose he thinks I've never been in
love. l wonder if really have-per-
haps not"
Winter has passed and the first flow
ers of early May were beginning to
show their modest heads when the
letter from Mrs., Jack Rossiter ar
rived.
Here, Ruth, here comes something
for you in Laura Rossiter's letter."
SdllCu oul uCl ciSIcI- Que Wallis sOu
to spend the summer with her at
Bath Beach. Rossiter's going abroad
and she's planning to have a lot of
jolly people down there for house
parties and week-ends. Go child, it
will do you good"
Ward Loring, man of affairs, club
man and all around good fellow, paced
slowly up and down the pretty boxed
walk surrounding Mrs. Rossiter's Bath
Beach summer place. Somehow or
other he didn't seem to be quite in ac-
cord with the days jollity. Life had
been cast in rather too serious a mold
for him to fit in very well with the
frivolous and the past week had
brought an added problem.
Just ten days before his hostess
has asked him to meet Ruth Ainslie
at the train. Neither of them had
realized 1t. but their love story began
when the horses, startled by the honk,
honk, honk of an approaching ma
chine had reared and plunged and
started on mad race down the hill.
In agony of fear. Ruth had frasped
Loring's coat sleeve, crying: THE
train, the train!''
Loring's hold on the reins never re-
laxed; his eyes never left the road in
front of him as he replied: sit down.
Miss Ainslie. there is no danger"
On, on, went the maddened animals,
the light runabout swaying from side
to, Cis lD =
approaching engine, Loring jumped to
his feet. and with one supreme effort,
pulled the horses to their launches
just as the train rushed by.
A week had passed, a blissfully
happy week to the two, who. without
spoken word, felt that a casual
friendship had led to a strong affec-
ton.
There was one closed chapter in
Loring's life which had caused him
endless and unceasing pain and worry
for five long years, and it was of this
chapter that he had decided to tell
Ruth Ainslie.
1T is only fair to her." he said to
himself; she will understand and she
will forgive. 1t will separate us. but
it Is right"
the train of thought was interrupt
ed by the soft frou-frou of woman's
skirt. Ruth Ainslie. clad in the dain-
test of white gowns with her arms
full Of dewey roses hurried down the
walk toward him. White almost to
the lips but with the light of great
love in his eyes he took the out
stretched hand.
Let's sit down here, I've something
to say to you, Miss Ainslie."
There comes a time in every girls
life when some one dear has some
thing to say. Ruth. felt new shyness
come over her as she raised her eyes
to those Of the man she loved and
then lowered them under the intense
gaze of his own.
An hour later a white-faced girl sat
alone in the arbor, her head buried in
, the fragrant, dropping roses. She had
heard the voice that had grown dearer
to her than any other in the world
tell her that he loved her. She had
felt the clasp Of his arms as he al