Middletown transcript., 1909-02-06
!. CUPID AND PEGA AsUS
BY JEAN MEYERS

question they discussed, just as
he seemed to depart. Harvey
drew Helen into his arms and
asked, When are you going to
marry me. dear?
Helen was amazed, and could
only say, III never heard OF such
a thing.
Well, | have thought more than
once about it lately, and | intend
that you shall hear about it in
future. | could not care for you
more than | do, and | am almost
sure that you love me.
Helen freed herself decidedly
at this most uncalled for state.
ment, and raising her flashing
brown eyes to the cool gray ones,
said, III do n
The negative adverb was never
uttered, for the gray eyes sud-
denly caught fire, and Helen's lips
trembled beneath a lovers pas.
sionate caress.
For fully ten minutes after that
there was no sound heard in DR..
Roberts drawing room except
the Stately ticking of the marble
clock, while a bronze Hercules
above it looked down with con-
tempt on the poor mortals who
had forgotten all about time and
eternity.
So "they two" were betrothed,
and Christmas Day was to see a
gay wedding from the Roberts
homestead.
There seemed no reason, then,
in Miss Roberts history for this
overwhelming grief. What could
the heart of woman ask for be-
yond luxurious home, fond par
ents and a devoted lover? The
average maiden might well ask
this question, but Helen Roberts
was not an average maiden. Her
soul Gravel literary distinction,
and for some years she had been
filling a morocco bound album
with scraps of verse, which set
forth in rhyme and unreason the.
various longings and grieving
with which the heart of youth is
supposed to be filed. There was
a rondeau on violets, and tell it
not in Bohemia) there was one,
only one, ode to spring. There
was a heartbroken poem entitled
"lf Death Would Come . and
there were various lyrics of the
"Vanitas Vanitatum" order. 1t
was all very well for a hapless
monarch of Israel, burdened with
the domestic worries of 700 Mrs.
Solomons, to sit down some cen
turies ago and record his blase
views in the first chapter of
Ecclesiastes. But why healthy
girl, whose digestive organs had
never known a pang, and who
had seen only the brightest side |
Of nineteenth century civilization, |
should sigh for quiet tomb and |
inveigh against the hollowness of |
things in general, is problem |
that no weak man will ever solve.
Helen Roberts was a woman of |
liberal education and good liter
ary taste. But she was never
born nor made a poet, and while
her guardian angel had his back
turned she sent her small collec-
lion of verse to New York and |
paid a substantial sum for having |
5he said collection published. The !,
book, in exterior, was all that
could be desired. The cover was
delicate cream in hue, and u
punch of purple violets was scat
5ered artisticslly in the right
1and corner, while in heavy let
,ers Of gold was the word "Rev-
cries. +" The publication of this
volume was profound secret,
Ind Helen intended to wait for
he plaudits of the critics before
he revealed herself as the "bril-
iant young author whose impas-
stoned and lofty verse has lifted
ler suddenly into fame"
On that afternoon in October
'he had recognized with many a
lutter a short notice of her vol
lme under Book Notices in the
Stiletto. She had taken the re-
7iew to her own room and there
lad read what seemed to her a
most ruthless judgment. The
'ritic, in two brief paragraphs,
lad mercilessly ridiculed the
'Reveries, 7 while he had insult
ngly praised the paper, the type
md the pretty cover, not forget.
ing TO notice the realistic effect
# the violets.
The writer has screened her