Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-09-18

mine and made me dizzy with the JOY of it as
you tramped sturdily along And once. when
in lonely road where nobody could
see. we walked hand in hand. And told you
dear, foolish things and you listened with your
quizzcal smile. smile that would have made
me think you were laughing at me if it hadn't
been for your eyes. And we went down to the
point to watch the sunset together. You liked
the music that came drifting over the harbor
from boatload of picnickers: but all the music
l cared for was just in your voice saying COM
mon sensible, everyday things. But once, just
a big white star came out over the hills
across the harbor. you bent over me and said
something tender that nobody else would say,
as nobody else could say it; and 1t has made
a song in my heart ever since to which every
fiber of me beats delicious time. The foolish
folk around me think that l alone in the
park. They don't understand; but you do.
How | hoard up your looks and tones in my
memory. if they were jewels beyond price!
When l am away from you. count them over
and revel in them. Yes. even in cold or
impatient words you once spoke,-they hurt
me then. and they hurt me yet,-but love the
pain because you infctedit l love better your
coolest. crueest words than all the tender. low
ing things that any other man could say. Am
1 spelling you by this? l dare say. But what
is the good of loving people if you don't spoil
them! l like to spoil you; l shouldn't halt
love you if you were not spoilable.
And you understand this too-you under
stand all about me. you clear sighted one.
And now that you have read what l have
written, leave you to read what l have not
written,-the dear. subtle Inducements of
thought that cannot be expressed in anything
so clumsy as human speech; in the unworded
messages of soul to soul across whatever may
Heart of My Heart. goodnight. I go to
dream of you.
60 you wish our engagement broken2"
~ said Stephen Avery.
Stephen. Of course all our families will have
crouch about it; but that needn't matter.
If you back me up, they will soon reconcile
themselves. And I'm SO fond of Charlie!
You'll set me free, won't you3"
ION one condition. said Stephen gravely.
"Of course" agreed Sally recklessly.
Stephen produced a letter from his pocket
book and held it out that Sally might see the
address and postmark "You may marry
anybody you like, if you will tell me who
wrote that letter, and introduce me to her"
he said.
Sally had the grace to blush. Its one of
mine isn't it?" she asked guilty.
No. You couldn't have written that let
ter, Sally, any more than you could have
composed sonnet. The writing is like
yours; but that is all. Own up, Sally!"
1t must be the letter l got Patricia
Wyndham to write to you one night last
winter when 1 was in hurry. just asked .
her for a joke. She never would tell me
what she put in it. Pat can be so provoking
by spells! What did she write, Stephen?"
Little girls mustn't be curious said
Stephen, restoring the letter to its resting
place. Aren't you ashamed of yourself.
Sally getting another girl to write your love
letters for your"
Il did it only once" protested Sally.
"And Patricia isn't like any other girl l
didn't suppose you'd ever know or care.
You're not going to be nasty to her about it,
are you?'
Certainly not: but mean to make her
own up to it. Don't forget your promise,
Sally
I'll have Pat down for my bridesmaid.
But you are not to scold her, remember 1t
was all my doing"
When Stephen was alone he read Pa
tricia' S letter over again. When he folded it
up there was twinkle. half Of amusement.
half of tenderness, in his eyes. Little girl,
you shall write me other letters like this
some day!" he said determinedly.