The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-05-10
THE WEIGHING HOUR
Story of the Great American Drama by the Author of the Play,
 Augustus Thomas


 'Uncl6 Jack says you're a regular architect, if there ever was one"
 It's what you think that makes difference to me-"
 Well. think Uncle Jack certainly knows"
 And an architects just as good as still in mind.
 Every bit," his sweetheart acquies- ced.
 It is possible that if either or both of the parties had been represented by attorney their understanding might have been regarded as falling some what short of a betrothal. In the absence of competent advisers, how ever. and perhaps of sufficiently guid- ing experiepc or research, the young people by an unspoken assent. none the less satisfactory because 1t was tacit, met in an embrace.
 "Viola,' the boy said, in trembling undertone, as her head rested on his
 There are other ways of becoming engaged. The process Is one so vola- tile that almost every ingredient or contribution, whether of time or place or circumstance, alters it's chemistry. Tn fact, much of the charm that hal lows that entire period known as "the engagement" is due to the same un. falling answer to all the experimental tests that may be made by the man. fold reagents in loves laboratory.
 Tn promising exploration of at least one other route, Viola began:
 "I don't mind telling you now ne was speaking for himself, Frank
 'By Jove!" Clay exclaimed, mis- taking consequence for coincidence. "On this very night?
 Yes
 ap dence that was here"
 One sure indication of true love is that the element of fate Is SO plainly, so early. discernible.
 Let's sit down."
 Holding both her hands, Clay led the girl to the sofa.
 .Yes; I've always said to mother. Clay whipple will make his mark some day. should say havc con- fdence in you" The boy laughed joyously. There was a framed sheepskin from the University of Pennsylvania hanging In his mothers bedroom, and several letters of approval from the firm Of architects with which he was as- sociated, but viola's last remark was his real diploma. He went on rapid explanation. taking her into almost conjugal confidence as to his pros poets.
 things like insurance buildings; but my hearts in domestic architecture, and if you don't laugh at me I'll tell you something"
 Laugh at you about your work and your ambitions? Why Clay"
 1T do some work in most of the domestic interiors for the firm all ready. and whenever I plan second floor or staircase can see you plain as day walking through the rooms oc saying goodnight over the balusters. :"
 Really? You mean in your mind" ''No, with my eyes. Domestic arch itecture is the most poetic work 2. man can get into outside of down right poetry itself"
 ''It must be if you can see it all that way" Viola assented, not with out some bewilderment.
 Every room,'' Clay continued to explain. '1 can see your short sleeves as you put your hands over the ball. usters-and sometimes you push up your front hair with the back of your hand-so."
 smoothing her pompadour into obed- fence.
 "All girls do that"
 "But not just the same as you do it," Clay protested, tenderly. "Yes, can see every little motion you make"
 | whenever you care to think about mel"
 "Bless you, no-that's the trouble. :" 1 There was a haunted flutter in his expression.
 1 What trouble?"
 "The pictures of you don't come just when I want them to come, es- ] oao1I }~ %ha 1o vlx "Why, how funny" ! 'In the dark sometimes they form like the views from a magic lantern. They glow strong and vivid, and then fade into the black, and then when lie down at night that effect some had to light the gas in order to go to sleep.' 1 Pictures of mel"
 Pictures of my work or anything that's been in my mind a good deal during the day, and sometimes pic lures of things that I can't remember having seen before"
 Why, never heard of anything ! like that"
 Well. it happens to me often." The boy was silent for a moment, as though searching his memory for an example. and then. as his eye caught the draped hanging of the room. he said, Now, I designed this room for your Uncle Jack. but before I'd put a brush in my color-box I saw this very Genoese velvet" He waved his hand, indicating the walls.
 "And I saw the picture-frame in their placesLthat Corot right there I've got kind of a superstition about that picture" Again there crept into his eyes that almost haunted look that had arrested Viola's attention earlier in their talk.
 "A superstition!'' exclaimed the girl, looking from his face to the pic ture indicated.
 "Yes. I said to Jack, Have any. thing else you want on the other walls. but right there I wish you'6 put a Corot that I've seen at a deal CTS in New York'-and he did it." Uncle Jack generally has his cwT way about pictures"
 "1 only mean," said Clay, hastily disclaiming any pretence of mastery 'I only mean that your Uncle Jacf approved of my taste in the matter But my idea of this house really start ed with and grew around thar canva of Corot's."
 Then it isn't always me that yo, see?"
 Always you when I think about ; real house, you beta house for me And you'll be there, won't you:"
 Will I?" Viola tempted him witt the feminine instinct which-howevel frequently it's possessor may be hal wooer-always is on guard agains the recorded fact
 Yes" Clay pleaded, "say will
 T will" And once more the happ! suitor folded her in his arms.
 Perhaps for the progress of theil