The Springdale news., 1908-12-25
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ever had before He went to Paris where he pitched deep into work to try to forget the maiden, but thoughts of her would creep in in spite of himself, and sometimes her image, Il laughing, haunting image, would steal in between him and his canvas. and then he would have b give up work for that day. It WIS no use. He would go out on the streets and walk and walk and walk, trying to wonder if the maiden's answer WAS final. calling up little scenes of their days together, eenjuring up her looks to see if he could not again read ils her eyes and find something there that he wanted. He wrote her long letters tell ing her a great many things that were not always kind. Some of the letters he sent across the ocean to her: others he tore up and tried to forget But there were only three letters from her in all the four years he was gone. and they all came on Christmas eve. Long friendly letters they were, just like the chats they used to have, but with no sign of the thing he wanted her to write above all else The stupid artist worked so hard that he could hardly help winning some shadowy success in all that time. There was q picture or two in the salon; his instructors grew encouraging; there was a line now and then in the papers, all of which puffed him up nightly because he vanly hoped they might make some difference with the maiden.
 When four years had passed the artist thought he might return to his home i'll New York and start his work there He told himself over and over again that he was going home to the maiden. and his heart beat absurdly with hope of seeing her and then sank heavily again at thought of the change the years might have made. of the es arrangement they might have brought During the time he had been away she had written many stories and had final- ly convinced the editors of their worth He saw her name in the contents Of a number of magazines The old days were changed He would no longer find her in the cheap boarding house. If she sent him away three years before she probably had almost forgotten him in all this time. but the thought of the Christmas letters spurred him to write to her and tell her of his return. He would reach New York the day before Christmas, the anniversary of his leaY ing. Would she meet him that evening at half past in the little restaurant? Io fnr hot con table in the corner. and they would talk over old times The artist arrived i'll New York on the day he expected. and all afternoon he wandered about wait
 ing for the hour of their engagement, yet half dreading 1t for fear she should not come But the good fairy waved her wand for him this time. for the maiden really came. and she is just the same. dear sweet maiden as in the old days, only the shabby clothes are re placed by new. well cut things, and there is a quiet air of prosperity about her She looks just little older, per haps. and the eyes are q trife more serious. but they are the s8me tender splendid eyes. rejecting big. sweet soul The two talked over many things. but all the time the artist has searched the maiden's eyes to see if he could find there any sign Of what he has longed for all these years, diff ferent answer to the question he put to her four years ago. He is eager to offer again to make home for her and to spend his life trying to make her the happiest woman in all the world"
 He looked over at the girl. Tt is for you to end the story" he said quietly. Her cheeks were flushed, and shs