The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1908-08-06
THE CRUEL WOOING.

please. = = Yes, s955A."
care you Macgregor & Wynne ?
Has Mr.. Wynne gone? I want to speak
to him, please, if you'll put me through.
Thank YOU"
"Is that you, darling? You're not
gone yet, then? y = Oh, just dressing
now. Well, haven't 1 packed the bag
beautifully this time? Not forgotten
the studs Or anything. = : $ Not at all.
l don't mind being left bit. = Of
take me to mans dinner. = = Now,
you're to have good time and thor
oughly enjoy yourself = Yes, I've
had mine-all l want. No; it
wasn't an egg for tea, then, it was an
enormous meal. = y Yes, and I'm 60
ing to have an uproarious evening alone.
You'll never guess. = Pm 60
| ing to read some old love letters I found
today at the back of an old desk.
Yes, letters | wrote years ago to man.
Never mind who, you don't know
him. Why. it'll be awfully anus
ing. = What? You call it a dashed
silly way of spending an evening'?''
She laughed softly. "Oh, Gerald, you
dear old duffer: you're jealous! Well,
that is funny. + All right, I won't
keep you any longer; you'll be late as
it is. y = What? No. Of course, Pm
not cross. = No, of course, / don't
mind being left. You conceited old hub
by, you think l can't get on without
you. = = Good night, darling; enjoy
yourself. y All right, l will. =
Good night, dear"
Maisie put the telephone back on the
receiver and came into the circle of the
freight. She was piquant and pretty
enough in curiously indefinite way.
Her soft cheeks and fair, fluffy hair
were still those of a girl, but her mouth
showed lines of suffering and her eyes
held secrets-the kind of secret wom-
an does not share with her husband. A
shrewd observer might have suspected
hint of carefully concealed tragedy in
her past life.
But she looked happy enough tonight
and strangely young in her white tea
gown. Signing luxuriously she settled
herself in the big armchair before the
fire with the shabby little writing case
on her knee.
The letters were mostly rough copies
| in pencil-scraps begun and then dis
carded; preserved heaven alone knows
WHY, and forgotten long since. She
had found them all together in the
pocket of the old blotting book
How many years ago was it.
four, five, six? Yes, it was nearly six
years since she and Harry had parted.
How she had worshiped that boy. She
recalled their first meeting at a dance
at a Monte Carlo hotel. They
had sat out in the gardens. 1t
had been love at first sight. The next
day he called OH her aunt at their no.
tel in Mentone and invited them to a
picnic His connections were ire
proachable, and at the girls chair and
let her thoughts rush out of that white
circle of wifehood and motherhood
over the barrier which a certain prim
prudence born of marriage had erected
in her heart-back. back through six
effacing years to that mad month on the
Riviera.
What a wild, wonderful time it had
been. She recalled the slopes of SHIN
mering gray olives, the groves of orange
and lemon trees where she and Harry
had kissed the long winding road up to
CASTELAR,, where they had often climbed
hand in hand. the afternoons they had
fingered on the plateau where the myrtle
grew among the expresses on the heights
above Gorbio.
He would twist the orange blossom
in her hair and put myrtle in her hands
and call her his beautiful bride. The
somber expresses stood sentinel over
them, and towering far above the eter-
nal snow capped hills Knocked their lit
tie futile passion. But below glittered
the deeply blue unforgettable Mediter-
ranean; the dazzling sunshine was over
all, and the Intoxicating balmy airs of
the south blew around them.
"Oh, the wild spring and his chances
and Dreams"
Days of youth and fire; golden, pas.
sionate days. How immortal it had
seemed-how quickly it had died. She
remembered those few subsequent meet
ings in town when Harry had rushed up
from the country to take her to lunch
. at Princes or tea in Bond street-how
he had chafed at the distance that part
ed them-the gradual waning of his love
the final disagreement that had ended
it.
Maisie had destroyed his letters on the
night before her wedding two years
ago, with her own, which had been duly
returned after the rupture. She keeniy
remembered that burning and how she
had not dared read the letters first be-
cause her wedding gown was lying on
the bed
These few rough copies were all that
was left. She opened the top sheet and
recognized by the date that it was writ
ter after their parting. It was one OF
those pleading letters he had never an
swered, the memory of which constitute
ed her greatest shame.
"Oh, Harry, cannot lose you like
this; you are twisted right round my
heart strings. If the end is to come it
must come gradually. This sudden
wrench, this frightful blank, it's liter
ally beyond my strength to bear. |
love you with such intensity and such
passion that l can't, can't shut you out
of my life all at once"
Heavens! Had she really written that
only six years ago? Her cheeks
burned with shame. She turned the
page. Something heavier than letter
fell out of the packet on to her knee. a
photograph. All the others she had
burnt before her wedding day. How
strange it was to see his face again.
For a long time she stared at the
rather cold, entirely commonplace, coun-
tenance., 1t was his GOODNESS. his aloof