The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1909-11-20

have given each other deadly wound
have insulted our love-have tram
pied holy thing In the dust"
The hours slipped by and at last
Alice aroused herself. She sat up.
feeling absently at the fourth finger
OF her left hand. She started as she
realized what she was looking for.
Even my finger misses him." she
whispered, with pitiful smile.
Behind the house a narrow, winding
path made its way between the apple
trees and past yellow field of rye,
through a green wood, and over a
brook by a rustic bridge. Beyond that
point 1t wandered on. with many
lovely turn. giving now and again an
enchanting glimpse of the great river,
until, mile or more farther, it joined
the highway. 1t had been the custom
OF the lovers to meet at the little
bridge every evening, and then to
saunter along the path, and home by
a short cut across the golf links.
Alice knew that the hour when she
generally started for the trysting
place was at hand, knew, hesitated,
and finally arose.
He won't be there tonight" she
murmured, land think my heart will
break; but l will COL cannot stay
away"
The shadows were long under the
apple trees as she walked out and
the robins fluted joyously. The even
ing seemed too lovely to belong to
earth. Meant for heaven. it had some
how lost its way and dropped. by
fortunate chance, on our world. As
Alice moved slowly along the fragrant
path, seeing In the sky the wonderful
ever changing shades of rose and
green and purple. hearing music from
hundred happy birds. breathing the
balmy air, an indescribable peace en-
tered her troubled heart. What though
anger and Misunderstanding lay be-
hind? She knew 1t was all right now.
Roland would be- waiting for her, wait
ing with look of perfect comprehen-
sion, and she would not even need to
speak. But speak she would, and as
she never had before-to tell him how
deep. how great her love was, and
that never more should shadow dar-
ken it. Never. never! The birds sang
always more sweetly, and the wind
among the branches made tender har-
monies that chimed with the love In
her heart.
And now she passed the yellow
grain, and now entered the woods, and
there, indeed, midway on the bridge,
where the sum sent mellow CLEAN
through the overarching branches.
stood her lover awaiting her. A wave
of happiness surged over her, taking
her breath for an instant. She stopped
and then ran forward with hands out
stretched, calling In voice low but
of piercing tenderness:
MY dearest / knew that should
find you'll knew you would be here.
If you had not, think should have
died."
In moment they were in each |
others arms, and at his kiss the last |
faint doubt or lingering veil of bit
terness. If any there was. passed ut
terly out of Alice's heart, and II
seemed to her that in that instant for |
the first time she knew happiness
supreme, divine.
Have you waited long. Roland?"
she asked.
mot long. dear"
And YOU forgive me7D
THE fault was as much mine as
yours. Alice" he whispered. And,
after all. there is nothing real except
our love-"
With their arms about each other
they sauntered on down the path. The
dying radiance of the sun made q
glory about them, the trees whispered
and swayed over their heads, and It
seemed to Alice as though she scarce
ly touched the ground. What indeed
was real beside their love? These
lovely things about her-these singing
birds and fragrant flowers and muir
muring leayes-they were only q sort
Of picture, reflection Of the happi-
ness In her heart. AS long as this
beautiful happiness lasted-and she
telt as though It could never end-so
long too would this delightful. bios.
soming world surround them. 1t must
always be glorious summer whore
they two werei