The Morris County chronicle., 1910-03-01
CHAPTER ".
What Men Call Love,

Rose spoke of the romance of two
young lives, of love sacrificed to duty,
of heart slowly breaking during a
dozen years. This we may set down
as the poetic form of the story about
herself and Roger. Now let us have
it in the prose.
And in the first place, I would re-
mark, that if Roger Temples heart
has been breaking during the length
of time Rose imagines, either it must
have been an extraordinary tough
heart when first the process was set
up, or the process is one that slightly
affects mans outward strength and
health. He is a well-knit, handsome
looking fellow; little sallow, per-
haps, like most men whose digestions
have been too long tried by climate
and curry, and with touch of Indian
listlessness in his English honest blue
eyes. But as to heart-breaking vast
i-g in despair, moral dyspepsia of any
kind! Ask his brother officers, the
comrades who know him best, what
man in the regiment they would conu
slider the most absolutely free from
all such disorders, and ten TO one
the answer will be Roger Temple" /"
A first-rate shot, bold rider, a capi-
tai fellow at the bivouac or mess
table--these are the things you will
hear respecting Roger among men.
And as regards softer matters? Oh,
well, Irritation and young ladies are
not very much in old Rogers line.
If marriage Is fated to overtake him,
If the best fellow on earth is fated to
be spoilt, it will have to be done by
coup de main. Roger might not have
the heart to say mo" to very pret-
ty woman If she asked him outright
to marry her; but he would certainly
never have the energy to undertake
the preliminaries of courtshjp HIM
SELF
The story, in the prose form. is
simply this: Rose married in her
girlhood an elderly London lawyer
with whom, as an absolute nonentity,
the conventional husband of charm
ing wife, this little history mas no
concern, and launched into narrow
circle of dull professional respecta-.
bility, was, at six-and-twenty, as real
ly fresh and ingenious a .oung per-
son as ever ,breathed.
So Roger Temple met and loved
her.
The Indian mutiny was over just
at the time, and Roger, fair-faced
boy of nineteen, had come back
wounded after his first dark taste of
soldiers work to England. He made
Rose Shelmadeane's acquaintance at
an East London dinner party, to
which family lawyer of the Tenn
pies, or other unimportaDt agent, had
led him; sat opposite to her at din
ner, and, not knowing till dessert, at
least, that she was the crown and
blessing of another mans life already,
conceived for her as wild passion as
ever foolish lad conceived for still
more. foolish woman since the world
began.
The London season was at it's
height, even Roses humdrum life en-
livened by an unwonted share of par
ties, theatre-going, drives in the park,
visits to the Geological; country cous-
ins who must be amused staying in
the house. Roger saw her. dogged
her, worshiped her everywhere. One
of the country cousins being female
! and unmarried, it might be assumed
that Mr. Temples attentions were
honorably matrimonial. Mr.. Temple
being well born, young, handsome,
of good expectations, was it not a
manifest duty to offer him encourage
ment?
To be Continued.