Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1911-07-12

Dad wants me to come home,
she said to Mrs. Tiverton, land
want to start right away. Could
Gray take my things to the station?"
Her face was so pale, her eyes so
eager, that the wise woman said moth
ing and was kindly helpful She di-
vined something of the spoiled moth
erless girls predicament, had watched
her proud treatment of young Corey,
who was proud enough, too, whose pa
thence had manifestly come at last to
an end. No one blamed Corey.
Once in her own room, Leona's
struggle with herself began. Her re-
turn was duly. chronicled in the pa
pers. Would he come to see her? An
other precious day, and no word In
secret and feverishy she packed and
disposed of a her many belongings,
hardy knowing why. Her father
thought she was i'll and talked doctor
and travel. He dared not ask about
Corey, but secretly thought if she had
gnally sent him away that he, John
Scott, had missed fine son-in-law. Not
but he wanted her happiness.
Then Leona walked up one morning
to know that on the evening of the
next Kingston Corey would start for
South America evidently alone-sure-
ly without coming to see her, even to
bid her good-by. She did not consider
that good-by would be a hard thing for
him to say when his heart had de
pended on taking her with him.
At noon even her pride deserted
her. She went to the telephone, called
for special messenger, and sat down
to her desk. She had grown almost
thin in her anxiety, and there were
shadows about her eyes, her curling
dark hair was carelessly knotted and
she wore a loose pale blue morning
dress. She began slowly to write to
King.
She tried again and again. What
could she say? The truth? Could she
| write, 81 am sorry-1 want to go with
you; | don't care about wedding, or
| anybody in the world but your She
tried it, but threw the sheet on the
floor of the big living room, and tried
| it again. Dear King, l have never
| loved any one but you-wOn't you for
give me?" This seemed utterly AFFECT
| to her. She discarded that also, not
noting that the fresh summer wind
| picked it up and whirled it over the
| bare polished floor to the door open
| ing upon the veranda, and that the
| first sheet caught on the edge Of a
| rug.
Again she tried, and this time it
was shorter yet; she knew the mes
| senger would come in a nom ant, and
| she had been wasting time In think
| ing, in trying to save her pride. Now
| she let it go.
Dear King" she wrote, # can't
! stand it to have you go without me.
, I can be ready in two days or IL two
| hours, if you will take me-or | viii
| go Just as | am | don't care for any
| thing but you-" She heard TIE
bell. ring. and went on writing, not
looking up, as the maid let some one
| in.
"You will have to wait moment.
messenger" she said, but, a queer
feeling came over her, and she lifted
| her eyes.
Kingston Corey, his face rather
stern and set, was deliberately read
ing a sheet Of paper. He stopped and
picked UP another piece near the rug.
and read that. Then, his face aliSht,
he came toward her, but tears filled
her eyes, and her vision OF him way
cred, though she rose and stood wait
ing, still clutching the unfinished
note in one hand.
'Leona, did you-mean what is writ
ten here?"
Yes" she said, and gave him the
paper in her hand, "and I mean this,
too. 7 was going to send it to you.
| Oh, it's terrible not to have any shame
or pride or anything!"
But love? It is-terrible, dear. But
it's-the best thing, too, isn't it,"
| She nodded her tousled head, and
then sprang away from him.
Don't you think you'd better tele-
| phone dad to come home this min
| ute? There1l have to be some quick
/ u,orl around hpra