Charlevoix county herald., 1912-07-06


John Dillon laughed half In amaze.
ment and partly because he found the
girls laugh infectious. But why" he
asked. ARE you doing all this?"
II was wasting away to a mere
shadow-because my father would not
let me have the man I y'anted." Mock
cry toward mankind " in the girls
voice and Dillon felt nlightly irritated.
They exchanged few more casual
words then Elsie excused herself with
the remark that her chickens were
Growing for food.
John Dillon's book on Modern Par
entage" did not progress SO well that
day nor the next. Instead, he found
himself admiring the girl who could
so successfully build up her mental
and bodily Ills by sheer good sense
and perseverance
Thoughts and consequent depres-
sion which had been wont to trouble
him when he remembered Enid be-
came less frequent. Once or twice
he found himself comparing the ruddy
crimson of Ends cheeks with the deli
cate blush rose that was beginning to
sweep timidly into Elsie's. The vag-
ary of the smile in Elsie Lanes eyes
charmed him now more than the un-
changing vital sparkle in the eyes Of
Enid.
One morning when he passed the
cottage Elsie was too absorbed by a
cluster Of children about her knees
even to see him. When he arrived in
the seclusion Of the woods he kicked
an unoffending wild flower. During the
day his thoughts strayed back to the
picture of Elsie and the children. A
sense Of peevishness stole over him
and he realized with a jerk of his
thoughts that he was jealous-jealous
of the tiny children with whom Elsie
was happy.
He came to a stop in his walk. John
Dillon was confronted with the GER
tain knowledge that he had fallen in
love with a girl without regard for
her suitability as a wife. He was
startled by the fact that he wanted
her for herself, for her whimsical
smile and her fascinating trickeries
of voice and eyes.
In his desire to forget his longing
for her lie plunged into work on his
book and found that 1t progressed
with an easy flow of understanding
marking it's pages. When he had
spent a day Of splendid work he felt
that he must approach the girl who
had inspired him.
On his way toward the cottage the
whole thing dawned on him.
ELSIE Lane was the one girl in the
world to fit into his scheme of life.
Any girl who had the strength to do
what she had done-any girl who
could turn the white roses In her own
cheeks to pink might turn a nation OF
children into whatsoever she desired.
Dillon quickened his pace.
Twilight had dimmed the garden
when he found her. She was just en-.
tering the door with a basket of fresh
eggs from the nests.
Have one" she called, when Dillon
stopped at the gate.
81 am coming in," he made answer,
and the new glad note in his voice
sent her glance quickly toward him.
Il don't want an egg" he told her
without preamble, "but | want every
thing else in the world want you."
In the semi-darkness Dillon watched
the blood rush up even to the gold OF
her hair. She laughed quickly-a
trifle unsteadily. But am not vital
nor strenuous, nor"
John Dillon had taken her in his
arms and his lips rested on the roses
that were her cheeks, the violets that
were her eyes, and lastly on the poppy
that was her mouth.
Nor anything, Elsie, but-mine,"
he said.