Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1910-03-19

nome!
The barn in the rear was intact. She
could see the black vertical line of the
weather vane on the cupola, but the
house was gone, probably burned to
the ground. She might never buy back
the home now.
She threw herself down on the dry
needles under the cedars and cried bit
terly. The trees seemed TO bend pro-
tectingly over her, and she chung to
gnarled trunk with passionate affec-
ton.
A strong hand lifted Dorinda to her
feet and drew her from under the
shadow Of the trees into an open space
flooded with the pale radiance of a
rising moon.
"Dorinda-Dor Gilbert Fane's
voice was very tender as he looked
into her tear wet face; you must
have known 1 wanted you. 1 have
been to the city to bring you home
and found you had gone an hour be-
fore. 1 have just got back again and
came here first 1 knew L would find
you here"
The color flooded Dorinda's pale
face as recollection returned. and she
shrank away from Gilbert's embrace.
You must not. Let me go away,
pleased First tell me when the house
was burned. / did not known
Gilbert held her closer In spite of
protest. 1.-The house did not burn,
Dorinda, sweetheart Come with me.
and L will show it to you"
Wondering, she went with him
across the yard and through the fence
into his own large domain. A house
crowned a little eminence, a larger
house than her old home, yet with
strangely familiar outlines. Soft turf
starred with dandelions was under
foot, and a little breeze stirred the
thick leaved naples. Every window
sent forth a welcoming light.
There is your home" said Gilbert
Fame.
at is yours" faltered Dorinda.
where is the Cedar House?"
cit is here 1 have bought the old
place and moved the house up here
and added wing on either side. We
will need more room some day. All
your furniture is in the house, dear.
and today l went to the city determin-
ed to marry you and bring you home
IODlROL.
to me, it is nothing without you, Do
rinda VIII you stay? 1 will send
for the minister" He paused and
took Dorinda's answer from her trem-
ulous lips.
AS they moved toward the lighted
house Dorinda looked back toward
the dark cedars that had always
marked her home. 81 am glad you
did not cut them down, Gilbert" she
said softly.
ct shall never do that" the man re-
piled gravely. when a tree has stood
for sixty years and sheltered a score
of human lives from cold and heat.
who am | to lay it low from pure
wantonness or caprice? / am ashamed
that 1 ever considered doing SO. The
cedar grove shall always stand there,
Dorinda. to mark your old home. The
birds will haunt the branches as they
ever did. and you shall go there and
sit shenever you wish. The hole is
being filed up, and 1 viii make a sum-
mer house for you-a veritable Cedar
House But here, among the NAPLES,
in the sunshine. you will live, Dorinda.
and grow strong and sweet and beau
tiful and forget the gloom of the house
under the trees"
Gilbert paused and looked up at the
thick foliage OF the naples. 81 planted
those naples when 1 was a boy, Do
rinda, and I've been trying to live up
- them all these years. Their noble
proportions make me feel very small
and mean"
Then as they reached the house that
was to be their home Dorinda spoke
softly, "I have always hkened you 20
a tree, Gilbert
THANK you, sweetheart" he said.