The Lafayette advertiser. [volume] (Vermilionville [i.e. Lafayette], La.) 1865-19??, 1909-10-19
MAIDEN'S
SECRET
BY WELLESLEY PAIN

bedroom. A few thoughts so entirely
possessed her that she did not enjoy
to the full-as was her daily custom
the view of the old-fashioned garden
or the fowerscented breeze that
famed her cheeks.
She was puzzled. Her self-imposed
task of writing her diary every morn
ing had recently become a disagree
able duty; at one time it had been a
alone. Now this morning she could
not write a word. A glance through
a few of the preceding pages did not
inspire her; on the contrary, she was
forced to admit that what she had
written was not a truthful record of
her thoughts. The discovery per-
picked her.
why not tell the TRUTH" she whis-
pered to herself. "The truth-the
whole TRUTH"
She took a large piece of paper
from a drawer and wrote at the top
Of it-"My Confession"
At that moment a clock in the
house struck the three-quarters, re-
minding her that she would soon have
to dress for breakfast. She opened
her door half an inch, listened, and
then darted across the landing t O the
bathroom. Having turned on both
taps she flew noiselessly back to her
bedroom and took up her pen.
Now that she had decided to tell
hnrra1f 4ho <~-tL A. x~-J~ - rr-..-
her diary would be easy. She resolved
to put her thoughts on paper just Is
they presented themselves, and the
first thought she dashed down was:
Il love him."
Written down in that way it seemed
posed Of n piece of handmade pa
per. In a moment. however. she was
quickly adding other words:
Il love him-I love him! l don't
know when l began to love him. I
seem to have loved him always. l
know there has been a time in my
life when 1 did not know him, and
yet l was happy. That seems impos-
sible. l love him. l want him-al.
ways"
She paused, and her thoughts be-
came a day-dream.
The striking of a clock brought her
thoughts back to the present with q
bound. She remembered suddenly
that the taps in the bathroom we're
turned on; the place would be flooded.
Ten minutes afterward she was
back in her room and sitting dumb
with perplexity before the open win
dow. AS she had entered her room
the draught had lightly lifted her
special diary" out of the window.
The man who had inspired her to
write those thoughts was nov stand
ing under her window with the pa
per in his hand. He was reading 1t.
How to explain the writing Of that
paper was a problem she had not
solved when, ten minutes afterward,
she opened the door of the breakfast
room.
In the morning they played tennis;
she cared nothing for the game, but
was grateful for it because it enabled
her to be near him. All during the
morning he said nothing about the
paper, but when the game was over
and they were sitting in a cool arbor
he suddenly drew it from his pocket.
Miss ~Chedworth," he said abrupt
ly, 81 have a confession to make"
"a confession?" She tried to speak
lightly, and she hoped she succeeded.
II found this in the garden this
morning, and | took the objectionable
liberty of reading it. For that | crave
your forgiveness. I-er-I had no
idea you wrote short stories, Miss
C~hedworth."
She had not thought of that expla-
nation of the paper, and was glad he
lad suggested it. Her difficulty was
practically owe now.
81 thought everybody wrote now
edays," she said lightly.
She looked away. The secret of
her life was before him and he knew
nothing of it. She felt that if she did
not get way from him at once she
would faint or become hysterical. She
half rose to go, but he put a finger
lightly IN her arm.
Wont you stay a little longer?" he
asked. Its cooler here than out
there. But that-that's not why l
wanted you to stay here. l tried to
make up another story out of this
piece of paper, but l don't know how
it's t O end. l can't put things just a.
l should like to, but this paper ex-
presses my thoughts exactly. IL love
you! May the story end happily"
He drew her to him and kissed her,
and she lay in his arms. She hid her
face on his shoulder.
That evening she told him of the
blank day in her diary. and how what
she had written down was not the be-
ginning of a story, but the truthful
confession Of her own feelings toward
him.
Don't you loathe me now for being
SO unmaidenly!" she asked. Il had
to be truthful to myself"
"Loathe you!" he exclaimed. "A
thousand times no. my darling. I
adore you. and you make me very !
happy. You were mine before / knew |
Won were mine-that's all. never