Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1911-02-17
The Argus Daily Short Story
a Matron's Confession-By Evelyn D. Wilcox.
Copyrighted. Associated Literary

20 wait a long while, but We minutes
was all my impotence would allow.
Going into the library, pretended TO
hunt for book, at the same time
asking as If incidentally:
who was your visitor, papaT
! Julian Trowbridge" 49, h5~
What did he come forr'
/ TO ask me to coach him for his col
lege examination. He has applied for
admission in June"
Are you going to coach him?"
Yes. I couldn't very well refuse.
He's the son of my old friend Trow-
bridge, who was in college with me.
Trowbridge has devoted himself to
lgnoble pursuits and got rich. I pulled
him through his graduating examina-
tons"
oh, my goodness graciousT' I said to
myself, putting my hand TO my heart
I to sill its wild beating. Then I asked,
us he coming here for instruction"
Eyes, every morning at H."
And so should see this young god
whom I had suddenly set up in my
heart every day till June. II father
had known the tunult within me he
doubtless would have ordered me to
the nursery every morning before his
pupils coming. Father had publish
ed a translation of Ovid's Art of
Love" with copious notes. but he did
not know enough about love itself to
suspect that his own daughter had
already been pierced by one Of Gu
pid's arrows. The natural he stud
led in his library from the ancients:
the artificial came TO him the moment
he left it. His daughter must go TO
college, and that meant absence Of
love for seven or eight years to come.
That he had right under bis own nose
but a repetition Of what had occurred
ever since human beings were born
INTO the world was furthest from h1l
thoughts.
In nature the first step In mating Il
to build a nest. In my case there wal
lot of preliminary work to do. MI
first great object to accomplish was ID
induce my mother to procure somo
dresses that would reach at least t.
my ankles. After much trouble I per
suaded her TO engage a dressmaksr &c
come to the house and make me some
summer costumes. By day mother
would give her instructions as to the
length of my skirts and by night
would surTeptitiously lower them
while they we're merely basted. WheP
they were finished mother would scold
the poor woman for not obeying hei
orders
How is your pupil getting On,
papa?" asked one day.
Not at ali. He's stupid az an owl.
He can't even conjugate the present
tense of the verb Ito love"
DO you think he'll pass his entrance
college examinations
Not this year"
Father was not looking az me, so
was at liberty to raise my eyes to
heaven with a mute thanks and resolV-
ed that II the coaching should continue
for another year in case the Instructor
could not teach the pupil how to con-
jugate the verb ito love" I would do
SO myself.
For year Julian Trowbridge came
and went for his lessons, taking no no
tee Of me whatever. The next spring
I asked father If he thought his pupil
would be able to enter college that
year.
Possibly" he replied. by hard
boning, but he has no taste for the
classics. don't see why his father
wishes to send him to q university"
Has he learned to conjugats the
verb TO lover asked.
Father gave me a quick glance.
had changed good deal within the