The Hays free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1908-1924, 1910-07-23
ES1ZNSYS.HAE 5SH2SS1FSS
Beneath the Parasol
By DOROTHY BLACKMORE


him, for the air had grown chilly
And in all that time he thought only
of the girl with the voice-the girl
with the parasol
Since she sang Easter music, Mar
tinson thought, next morning, that
she might go to church, and though
he had dropped from the habit in the
last few years, he sought out a lit
tie church and entered therein. In
church, he realized she could not hide
her face with a parasol
He was ushered well up toward the
front of the quiet little worshiping
place and the choir had not yet
taken its place. He watched the
beautiful women. in their Easter
frocks and bOnnets, come in, in little
groups or singly. and take their
places His early teaching forbade
him to turn when he heard a feminine
rustic of skirts behind him, but. in
stinctively, he felt that she knelt be-
hind him, her hat almost touching his
shoulder. AS she arose, quietly, the
most subtle fragrance of roses was
waited to him. Rosesi 1t was an
other reminder of the girl who was
now memory.
When she joined in the hymns he
knew it was she, for there was the
same voice that had held him on the
balcony for so long, the night before.
She was SO close behind him, and yet
he could not see her-had never seen
her face. He had an almost uncon-
tollable impulse to turn and face her
He heard little of the sermon the
old minister had prepared with such
care, and he wondered, irreverentIy
why it was necessary to preach such
long sermons
When the choir had sung the re-
cess1onal hymn and the good old min.
lister had given his final blessing to
the congregation, Tom Martinson
turned to leave the church amidst the
hand-shakings of the little groups
about him, but-the girl had already
turned her back and was threading
her way toward the door whence the
sun streamed in. Martinson followed
The girl with the parasol strolled
down the lane toward the water.
Suddenly, the thing Tom Martinson
least expected happened. The girl
with the parasol turned about and
waited for him, her face wreathed in
smiles. restless dimple in her cheek
Hurry, Tom." she said, IF you
want to walk beneath my parasol"
The man was beside her in an in
slant. staring wonder-eyed at her
Rosemary Lawton," he cried. Your
She nodded saucily. 81" she con
f1rmed.
After four years?" he gasped
And with all this mystery! Pm
at loss for words with which to
chide and question you," he said
lamely.
Then don't" she advised him
I'll tell you-perhaps"
But how did you do ft-any why?'
"A woman can do anything she
hkes-with man"
Obviously" he agreed, pointedly
This is the second time you've had
me at your feet, Rosemary
She pointed an accusing finger al
him.. THE second time was neces
sary," she explained 81 did not full
fl your ideal-then, the first time.
could not sing-then. I've been study
ing in Germany for three years
With marvellous results he inter
rupted:
Il knew you wanted me to sing
wished. you had loved girl who could
sing Also" she ran on, as he
walked beside her, 81 knew 1 was g
little too conventional-ev everyday. as
it were-for you. You told me once
that you liked an element of mystery
that it was attractive in a girl. +
well, you've been mystified, haven't
your"
The young man admitted that he
had been.
Then, l had a second reason fo1
my-parasol," she laughed, as she
looked up into the pink glow of the
sun-shade. "My-dimple wasn't en-
tirely healed"
'FWhat?" cried Tom Martinson, his
eyes fixed on the dainty, indentet
cheek upturned to him.
You always admired Heller
Miller's dimple so-well, l had one
made in Paris, for you Do you like
it?"
81 adore it,"
"And-that's ALL" she admitted
except that when Clarice wrote me
! that you were to spend the Easter
holidays here, l thought it would be
my opportunity to make you fall in
love with me all over again ISM
that dreadful confession to make p
| But whether or not Tom Martinsor
considered it dreadful he told the an
/ swer only to her; and the guests al
the hotel were amazed, as at a seven
days wonder, when they saw the mys
ferrous parasol girl and Tom Martin
son strolling leisurely toward them
/ entirely engrossed in each other.