Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1911-09-26
BY CARISSA MACKIE

III By d-ARlSSA MAcKlE
Copyright by American Preas Asso-
citation, 1911.
Pauline hummed q tune under her
breath as she tied the ribbons Of her
little white shoes and reached for her
tennis racket. With swing Of snowy
linen skirts she tripped down the stairs
and out into the golden California sun
shine.
Playing tennis by oneself Is never
an entertaining pastime, but 1t Is
good exercise, and when one lives with
a beautiful but melancholy maiden
aunt on a retired country estate even
daily gymnastics can border on the
widest excitement.
Pauline's method consisted in serv-
ing one or more balls across the net
and then dashing around into the op-
posite court and returning the serv-
ice with lightning rapidity and again
darting back to return the stroke.
Pauline fitted back and forth with
pink cheeks and shining eyes. Her loos-
ened hair fell in two long braids below
her slender waist, and under her
breath she hummed the happy little
tune broken by painting breath.
Once her strong young arm sent the
ball sailing high over the tall hedge Of
Cherokee roses into the grounds Of the
adjoining estate, and 1t was returned
to her with such surprising swiftness
that involuntarily she sent 1t back
again with cry Of triumph.
Again 1t returned, and once more
Pauline sent 1t flying over the hedge.
There was a sharp exclamation, soft
steps on the turf, and then over the
dividing wall Of roses appeared a
shock Of sun bleached hair, a pair OF
good gray eyes and a handsome tan
ned countenance.
knocked me out there, little girl"
grinned the young man, holding out
the ball.
Pauline's hands few to her long
braids and wound them in their accus-
toned coronet. Even then she did not
look day over fifteen, while she was
really twenty-five.
II beg your pardon" said the
stranger, his grin fading away. II
thought you were little girl, don't
you know"
I'm not" explained Pauline with
dignity. Thank you for returning the
ball." holding out her hand. "Why, it's
not mine," she added, with puzzled
glance at him, although 1t has my
initials on It,"
up. G.?" laughed the man. Those
are mine too. I'm Paul Graham-I
live in the stone house yonder," he ex-
plair ed. "Your ball disappeared. and
substituted this one"
II know" said Pauline, with a shy
smile. 'I've peeped at the house
through the trees. 1t looks very lone
ly and mysterious with its shuttered
windows"
"They are all wide open now, and If
you care for neighbors-here we are"
he smiled ingratiatingly. "I've heard
there used to be gate in this Chero-
kee hedge. I wonder where 1t is"
Pauline flushed delicately and looked
away with embarrassed eyes. II be-
lieve the gate was down in the rose
garden. 1t is nailed up now and over
grown with roses"
"Why was it nailed up? Do you
know7" he asked bluntly.
She shook her head slightly. II have
often wondered. Once asked my
aunt, Miss Greye, but she never an
swered my question. A gate between
two gardens always seems 80 friendly.
Don't you think so?"
He nodded. "This used to be our
home, you know-the stone house, /
mean-but 1t is many years since we
lived here. Since l was little boy !
distinctly recollect that gate in the
hedge, and ] have always retained
vision Of stately young woman with
jet black hair and coldly beautiful
face. who walked In a wilderness Of
roses on the other side Of the gate"
"That must have been Aunt Ruth
said Pauline. "Only her hair Is like
snow. But she is still beautiful and
so cold. / wish she were not"
"I'm taking holiday. wish your
aunt would invite me over to play ten
mis-. Perhaps she remembers me-" sug-
gested Graham.
T'm sure she would invite you II she
knew you were here" said Pauline
politely. ~ must run In now. She
would scold II she knew I had talked
30 long with stranger. But It's
awfully dull here. That is my only
excuse" She moved slowly away and
nodded a friendly farewell.
The door Of the library was ajar, and
Pauline pushed 1t gently open and
peeped inside.
Seated ut fat desk was Ruth
Greye. In the subdued light Of the
dimly lighted room she looked like
marble statue. Her gown was white,
and above It her white throat arose In
q stately column to support her beau
tiful head Her face was lovely In
spite Of Its pallor and crowned with
soft masses Of prematurely whitened
hair. Her brows formed straight black
lines, and the dark lashes and brown
eyes were dropped over the desk. One
white hand glided smoothly across the
paper as she wrote.
Pauline watched her with admira-
ton in her eyes. What could have
been the sorrow that had taken all the
light from her aunt's face and left It
a beautiful mask Of woef
Miss Greye looked up and caught the
girls admlring gaze. A faint pink
tinged her cheek and then faded. She
w1ped ner pen ana placed 1t on the
tray, thrust her papers in velvet port
folio and arose to her stately height.
pauline" she said In her slow con-
tralto, II have instructed James to
Law out a new court on the north side
of the house. In the meantime please
do not play tennis"
"Why notT asked Pauline boldly.
because desire it." returned her
t0rS. rho ko roQ.