The Sauk Centre herald., 1908-05-28
The Professors
Love
By ENELIE fRAcYY. PARKHURsr
Copyright, by Joseph B. Bowles.)

He stepped briskly into the Office
Of his most intimate friend one morn
| ing, and drawing a check from his
pocketbook, he said, in subdued
tone, as if afraid that the walls would
hear:
John, l am going away for about
| six months, and there are few lt-
| tie commissions that would be CRATE
full to you for fulfilling during my aD-
sence if you will There is a lady
| in town, a friend whom you do not
| know. am in the habit of observing
| all her little anniversaries. The
| 10th of July is her birthday, so l usu-
| ally send her a fiower-piece of Russian
| violets, made up into her initials, with
my initials in light blue violets under
meath. You will do these things for
| me, JOhn?"
with all my heart! But who Is
this girl that you, the dreamer, the
mystic, the man who lives among
| the stars, has seen fit to bow down
| to and adore? You in love? l can't
imagine you in such predicament
1t is really too absurd. Come. tell
us your divinity's name, and tell US
where you found her."
Ned Finlay was tall, slender man,
pale like all scholars, with rather
! small features, short cropped gray
| hair and an ambling gait, like that OF
! one accustomed to striding across
| mountain roadways. He and John
| Howland had been close friends since
boyhood. They knew no reserve ex-
cept on the subject of the women OF
their acQuaintance-they both consid-
cred the subject too delicate for dis
cussion.
Ned hesitated a moment as though
| it were a deed Of black sacrilege to
mention her name, and then he MUIR
INJURED, dreamily:
"Her name is Mildred Mills. You
| probably do not know her, as she lives
| a most secluded life"
THE devil!" exclaimed John How
| land looking at Ned curiously, and
then stopping short In moment he
asked as a hard expression took the
place of the curious one: who is
| this Mil-dred-what did you say her
| last name was? Has she accepted
you? Do you think that she really
loves you? Are you going to marry
her? Has she any money? Has she
any folks? How do they feel?"
"Stop, stop one moment. john" said
Findlay, seating himself on the cor
ner of the desk and dangling his long
legs helplessly in mid-air. "One ques-
ton at time, and l will answer to
the best of my knowledge. l don't
wonder at your surprise; l am sur
prised at myself have not spoken
to her yet; l had not the courage.
What's that? l thought you spoke.
Pardon. She seemed to feel so re-
lieved to find that l did not bore her
to death with love-making. She has
fine mind and 1 have been leading
her along the paths Of science-astron-
omy, Greek, archaeology-and all that.
She has been ill lately. l thought
that she was going to die. l came to
the conclusion, after carefully weigh.
ing the matter, that l loved her."
"Then you have not spoken to her
yet?"
"Oh, no, not yet, not yeti" said
Findlay, as though the very idea
struck terror to his soul.
"How-how long have you been
sending her-things?"
ever since l knew her. Three years
about"
Rowland muttered something inco-
herent, and then turned toward the
great pile of letters that waited his at
tention. One envelope caused him to
change color ominously. He disen-
gagged it from the rest of the pile
and thrust it savagely into his breast
pocket.
Findlay dropped down from the cor
ner of the desk and extended his hand
to his friend. Howland grasped it
with grip of iron and said:
81 hope you'll be happy with your
Mildred M-Mills. I'll do all you
wish"
Findlay swung himself out of the
door, and when Rowland had seen him
disappear around corner, he drew
the letter out of his breast pocket,
turned it over and over three or four
times obviously, and then tore it open
at the end. Taking it out of the slip,
he read as follows:
"Dear John: I am awfully sorry about
this evening, but 1 am going to ask you
to release me from going to the theater.
My old friend and tutor, Prof Findlay
is going away tomorrow, and so this will
be the last chance 1 shall have to see
him for some time. Besides. what is one
evening more or less to you, when we are
going to be together all our lives, John?
l know you will like the professor, and
I'll try to arrange it for you two to meet
when he returns. Yours faithfully
M. NJ"
l fear John Howland's corresponds
ence lacked clearness that day. He
seemed inclined to be reflective. At
times he rested his left elbow on the
desk, supported his cheek in his up
turned palm, and his eyes fairly
bulged and grew bloodshot with the
intensity of his abstraction.
Being wise and discreet man, 10y.
al as heaven to the woman he loved,
and as staunch as steel to Findlay, he
resolved to let things drift for a while.
and give Mildred time to choose be.
tween them. He opened the gates of
memory and sauntered back over the