Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1911-10-11
The Gate In
The Hedge
Why 1t Was Closed and
How Opened
By CLARISSA MACKIE
Copyright by American Press Asso-
citation, 1911.
By CLARISSA MACKIE

breath as she tied the ribbons of her
little white shoes and reached for her
tennis racket With a 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 it is
good exercise, and when one lives with
Il beautiful but melancholy maiden
aunt on Il 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 OPP
posite court and returning the serv-
ice with lightning rapidity and again
darling 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 it was returned
to her with such surprising swiftness
that invOluntariy she sert it back
again with Il cry Of triumph.
Again it returned. and once more
Pauline sent il flying over the hedge.
There was sharp exclamation, soft
steps on the turf. and then over the
dividing wall of roses appeared a
shock of sun bielched hair. a pair Of
ned cOuntenance.
knocked me out there, little girl"
grinned the young man, holding out
the bail
Paulines hands flew to her long
braids and wound them in their accus-
toned cOronet. Even then she did rot
look a day over fifteen, while she was
really twenty-five.
Il beg your pardon" said the
stranger, his grin fading away. Il
thought you were a little girl, don't
you know
I'm not" explained Pauline with
dignity. Thank Eou for returning the
ball. holding ont her hand. why. it's
not mine she added, with a puzzled
glance at hin, although it has my
initials on it."
"P. CO. laughed the man. Those
are mine too. I'm Paul Graham-I
live in the stone house yonder," he ex-
plair ed. Your BAL disappeared, and l
substituted this one"
Il know" "aid Pauline, with a shy
smile. 1--WE peeped at the house
through the trees. 1t looks very lone
~ and mysterious with its shattered
windows"
They are ali VIDE open now, and if
you care for netehbors-here we are"'
He smiled ilcratiatingly. i've heard
there used to be gate in this Chero-
kee hedge. | wonder where it is"
Pauline flushed deiicateIy and looked
away with embarrassed eyes. Il be-
ieye the gate was down in the rose
garden. Ii is nailed up now ana over
grown with roses"
Why was it nailed up? DO you
know he asked buntly.
She shook her head slightly Il have
often wondered. Once | asked my
aunt, Miss Greye, but she never an
swered my question. \ gate between
two gardens always seems so friendly
Don't you think s0:"
He nodded "This used to be our
home, you knOw-the stone house,
mean-but it is many years since we
lived here. Since | was little boy
distinctly recOiie"t that gate i'll the
hedge, and I have always retained q
Vision of stately young woman with
Jet black hair and coldly beautiful
face. who walked III 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"
"Tm taking d holiday. l wish your
aunt would invite he over to play ten
mis-. Perhaps she remembers me-" sug
gested Graham.
I'm sure she would invite you if she
knew you were here said Paulin,
politely. 81 must run in now Sh,
would scOld if she knew l had talked
SO long with Il stranger. But it.!
awfully dull here. That is my onl,
excuse" She moved slowly away ant
nodded friendly farewell.
The door Of the library was aiar, an,
Pauline pushed it gently open an,
peeped inside.
Seated at a fat desk was Rutl
Greye. In the subdued light of tn
dimly lighted room she looked like
marble statue. Her gown was white
and above i Ter white throat arose il
a stately column to support her beau
tiful head. Her face was lovely il
spite of its pallOr and crowned witt
soft masses of rrematurely whitene'
hair. Her brows formed straight blacl
lines. and the dark lashes and brown
eyes were drooDeI over the desk. On
white hand glided smoothly across tn