The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-04-27
(Continued.l

| lITOuSn to the very marrow ms | bones- His great love controlled, com | pelled him. He made no movement to- | wards her but looked with eyes of rap | ture such a moment was beyond per
 sonal satisfaction: it was of the gods | not of men. And so they stood. 1 Then the tears welled over in Joys | eyes beneath the fallen lids. They | hung on the dark curly lashes and
 rolled ike silver beads down the soft
 ness of her cheeks. Still Athlyne made | no sign; he felt that the time had not
 vet come The woman was his own now. lie felt instinctively; and it was 1 his duty-his sacred privilege to pro- 1 tect her. Unthinkingly he moved a | step back on the road he had come ] 1nstinctively Joy did the same. It was | without thought or intention on the part of either; all instinctive, all l natural. The usage of the primeval | sQuaw to follow her master outlives races.
 Then he paused. She came up to | him and they walked level. Not an other word had been spoken; but there are silences that speak more than can be written in ponderous tonnes. These two-this man and this woman-knew They had in their hearts in those gior- iouS moments all the wisdom won by joy and suffering through all the countless ages since the Lord rested
 on the first Sabbath eve and felt that His finished work was good.
 When, keeping even step. they had
 taken a few quiet paces, Athlyne spoke in soft whisper that thrilled:
 Joy look at me!'
 Without question or doubt Of any
 kind sine raised her shining eyes to his
 And then. slowly and together as
 though in obedience to some divine
 command, their lirs met in a long. low ing kiss in which their very souls went
 out each to the other.
 When their mouths parted, with mutual sigh. each gave a quick glance up and down the road: neither had thought of it before.
 The tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil did not die in Eden bower. It f1ourishes still in even the most un- likely rlaces all the wide world over And they who taste it's fruit must look with newly-opened eyes on the world around them.
 Together. still keeping step, not hold ing each other, not touching except by the chance of movement. they walked to where the bye-road joined the main one. As yet they had spoken between them less than threeecore words. They wondered later in the day when they talked together how so much as they had thought and felt and conveyed had as they paused at the joining of the roads. Ath1yne said-and strange to say it was in an ordinary common place voice:
 Joy won't you come with me for ride. I have my motor here. and we can go alone. There is much I want to say to you-much to tell you. and the speed will help us. I want to rush along-to fly. Earth is too prosaic for me-now," Joy looking softly up caught the lightning that flashed from his eyes. and her own fell. A tide of red swept her face; this passed in moment. however. leaving a divine pink like summer sunset on snowy heights. Her voice was low and thrill ing as she answered with eyes still cast down.
 ''rn go with you where you will to the end of the world-or Heaven or Hell if you wish-now.
 And then as if compelled by force beyond control she raised her eyes to his.
 Shall you come with me to the car; or shall I bring it to the hotel?'' He spoke once more in something like his ordinary voice.
 'tNeither,'' she answered with her eyes still fixed on his unfiinchingly. He felt their witchery run through him like fire now; his blood seemed to boil as it rushed through his veins. Love and passion were awake and at one.
 ''I must go back to see if there is any wire from Daddy. and to leave word that I am going for d drive. shall tell my maid that I shall return in good time. Father and Mother and Aunt Judy are to arrive at Winder- mere at five o'clock unless we hear to the contrary You bring up the motor toto there where we meet.' Her eyes burned through him as without taking them from his she raised an arm and pointed gracefully up the bye-road, to- wards where they had sat.
 Don't come with me- she said as he moved with her. ''It will be sweet CT to keep our secrets to ourselves"
 And so. he raising his cap as he stood aside. she passed on after send ing one flashing look of love right through him. I
 At the hotel she found a wire from her father to the effect that they would not be able to leave Euston at Il 80 a S intended but that they hoped to reach Windermere at 7:O5 This pleased her for it gave her another two hours for that motor drive to which she looked forward with beating heart. She told her maid that she would be out till late in the afternoon as she was going motoring with friend; and that she could please herself as to how she would pass the time. When the maid asked her what she wished as to lunch she answered:
 1T shall not want any lunch; but if we feel hungry we can easily get some on the way
 (Which way shall you be going, Miss, in case any one should ask.'
 'I really don't know Eugenie. I just said I would join in the drive. I dare say it is up somewhere amongst the lakes That is where the fine scenery iS.'
 And what about wraps, miss? You will want something warm for motor ing. That dress you have on it's rather thin for the purpose.''
 ''Oh dear: oh dear!" she answered with chagrin. 'This will do well enough. I think. We shall not, I ex- pect. be going very far. If I find I want a wrap I can borrow one" And off she set for the rendezvous.
 In the meantime Athlyne had found | the car, and had given instructions to l the chauffeur to remain at an inn at | which he had already noted | for the purpose and where a telegram would find him in case it might be | necessary to give any instructions. He l had made sure that the luncheon | basket which he had ordered at Bow | ness was in it's place. Then he had | driven hack to the bye-road and wait i ed with what patience he could for the | of Joy.
 She came up the bye-road walking l st enOupb I'm to that DOi7t Sha had |