The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1912-12-13

L saiu would never marry q Bloom
1eid boy and settle down into a hum.
drum existence. | said could neysr
think Of him seriously; that every time
l looked at him he seemed to be the
same chubby faced. apple checked lit.
Tie boy went to school with years
ago"
What did Walter say to thatY' Mrs.
Pomeroy's face was grave, though her
brown eyes We're shining, too. and they
looked much like Maisiea
He didn't say anything. He just
nodded his head in that awkward way
OF his and went Of The next heard
he was In New York studying to be
doctor You know he has never been
home since" Maisie's tone was un.
consciously w,stful.
The days before the great event that
was to transform Bloomfield from a
sleepy country village into a fashion.
able rendezvous for day were filled
with preparations for the balloon
races. AS If by magic all the daisies
In Cabots field were laid to the
ground and grand stands were erect.
ed and huge gas tanks put In place.
School was ended. and Maisie walked
In other directions when she chose to
be outdoors. Now. she only remem-
hered Cabot's field as the place where
Walter had met her one day and con.
fessed his love among the daisies,
which are supposed never to tell Low.
ers' secrets.
Maisie was disturbed by these memo
ries that forced themselves upon her.
She did not wish to think of Walter
Avery, and she had dismissed him
from her mind for four years and re-
scented that she could not Danish him
from her memory. She felt sure that
out there in the big world there was
waiting for her an ideal lover. hand
some, courtly, polished. rich.
At last came Bloomfieid's great day.
The road to Cabot's field was black
with vehicles OF every description. BY
10 o'clock every seat In the stands was
filled, and the four sides of the great
field were lined with carriages, motor
cars and farm wagons. Maesie and her
mother were there and BY good for
tune and the kind Offices of Emma
Risley had secured front row seats In
one OF the stands. Ten big balloons
swayed slowly, Juggling at their anchor
ropes. There were a smell of escaping
gas, the music of band and the
sound Of many voices. Maisie found
herself enjoying the excitement. II
this was life she would like q taste
of I'll
Emma Risley leaned across Maisie
and spoke to Mrs. Pomeroy. 81 hear
Walter Avery's going up in one OF the
balloons. You know he's quite an
amateur balloonist. Mrs Avery Is wor-
ried almost to death about It."
"Ballooning is dangerous sport"
returned Mrs. Pomeroy's calm voice,
but | suppose Walter finds It a re-
Taxation from his professional work"
Il guess he deserves all the fun he
gets. They say he worked like a Tro-
jan to get his degree. and now he's to
go In partnership with city doctor"
Emma Risley sat back in her seat.
There, they're off, Maisiel l wonder
which is Walters balloon. Let me see
your programme. that's a lucky
number, anyway. DR.. Avery! Isn't
that funny7 Seems as if could see
Walter as he was when he came to
school to me years ago Think of his
being a doctor"
Maisie was thinking entirely too
much for her own good. She was thor
oughly frightened at the idea Of Wal
ter Averys ascension In the balloon
She could see No. Z now. That was
Walter. tall. slender. supple Of form.
his dark hair blowing back from his
forehead. He was looking their way.
Was he looking at her? She told her
self that he could merely see the crowd
OF white faces: that he could not pick
out individuals. Shll he stared. and
then, Just as the anchors were cast
adrift and he started up. he waved
handkerchief toward them. Suddenly
Maisie's little handkerchief broke into
a fiuttering signal The fresh breeze
tore 1t from her hand, and It whirled
upward with balloon No. Z.
Walter leaned out, deity caught the
bit of white, tucked 1t In his breast and
amid the cheers of tho crowd went up
to an altitude that caused hearts to
throb and cheeks to pale with appre-
hension. When the last airship had be-
come mere speck In the sky the
crowd dispersed to other diversions,
and Maisie and her mother went home.
1t would be late in the afternoon be-
fore the balloons might be sighted on
the return trip, provided they were not
driven before adverse winds. Then
their return would be uncertain indeed.
There was an excellent chance that
some of them would never come back,
Maisic Pomeroy never forgot that
waiting time. In those hours died all
the foolish longing and discontentment
that had possessed her. There was only
one thing she craved. and II was the
life Of Walter Avery. whether he loved
her now or not She knew that she
loved him.
With the evening came the return OF
the balloonists. every one safe. Walter
Avery winning the second prize. which
he did not care fig for. because q
greater prize awaited him In Mrs. Pom.
eroy's old fashioned garden. Bloomfield
IS a thriving suburb now, and life there
is by no means dull and commonplace.