Middletown transcript., 1912-05-04

| lection that human power could give.
He had never presumed upon the sit
uation in the least degree, he never
once referred to the circumstances
Of their meeting in the remotest way,
he never even discussed her rescue
from the food, he never told her how
he had borne her through the rain to
the lonely shelter Of the hills, and in
no way did he say anything that the
most keenly scrutinizing mind would
torture into an allusion to the pool.
and the bear and the woman. The.
fneness Of his breeding was never so
well exhibited as in this reticence.
More often than not it is what he
does not rather than what he does
that indicates the man.
It would be folly to deny that he
never thought Of these things. Had
he forgotten them there would be no
merit in his silence; but to remem-
Der them and to keep stilI-aye, that
showed the man! He would close his
eyes in that little room on the other
side Of the door and see again the
dark pool, her white shoulders, her
graceful arms, the lovely face with
its crown Of sunny hair rising above
the rushing water. He had listened
to the roar Of the wind through the
long nights, when she thought him
asleep If she thought Of him at all,
and heard again the scream Of the
storm that had brought her to his
arms. No snow drop that touched
his cheek when he was abroad but
reminded him Of that night in the
cold rain when he had held her close
and carried her on. He could not sit
and mend her boot without remem-
bering that white foot before which
he would fain have prostrated him
self and upon which he would have
pressed passionate kisses If he had.
given way to his desires. But he kept
all these things in his heart pom
dered them and made no sign.
Did she ask beauty in her lover?
All, there at last he failed. Accord
ing to the canons Of perfection he
did not measure up to the standard.
His features were irregular, his chin
a trife too square, his mouth
thought too firm, his brow wrinkled
little; but he was good to look at for
he looked strong, he looked clean and
he looked true. There was about
him, too, that stamp of practical eff
hciency that men who can do things
always have. You looked at him and
you felt sure that what he undertook
that he would accomplish, that de-
cision and capability were incarnate
in him.
But after all the things are said
love goes where it is sent, and
l. at least, am not the sender.
This woman loved this man neith-
er because nor in spite of these
qualities. That they were might
account for her affection, but if they
b; 4 not been, it may be that that af-
fec ion, that that passion, would have
inh bitated her heart still. No one
can say, no one can tell how or why
those things are. She had loyed him
while she ragged against him and hat
ed him. She did neither the one nor
the other Of those two last things.
now,, and she loved him the more.
Mystery is a great mover; there is
nothing so attractive as a problem we
cannot solve. The very situation of
the man, how he came there, what
he did there, why he remained there,
questions to which she had yet no
answer, stimulated her profoundly.
Because she did not know she uues-
toned in secret; interest was aroused
and the transition to love was easy.
Propinquity, too, is responsible for
many an affection. "The ivy clings
to the first met tree" Given a man
and woman heart free and throw
them together and let there be decent
kindness on both sides, and it is al
most inevitable that each shall love
the other. Isolate them from the
world, let them see no other compan-
ions but the one man and the one
woman, and the result becomes more
inevitable.
Yes, this woman loved this man.
She said in her heart-and 1 am
not one to dispute her conclusions
that she would have loved him had
he been one among millions to stand
before her, and it was true. He was
the complement of her nature. They
differed in temperament as much as
in complexion, and yet in those diff
ferences as must always be to make
perfect love and perfect union, there
were striking resemblances, necessary
points of contact.
There was no reason whatever why
Enid Maitland should not love this
man. The only possible check upon
her feelings would have been her
rather anomalous relation to Arm
strong, but she reflected that she had
promised him definitely nothing.
When she had met him she had been
heart whole, he had made some i'm
preston upon her fancy and might
have made more with greater opportun-
ity. but unfortunately for him, luckily
for her, he had not enjoyed that priv |
Iege. She scarcely thought Of him
longer.
She would not have been human If |
her mind had not dwelt upon. the
world beyond the skyline on the 9th |
Ier side Of the range. She knew how |
those who loved her must be suffering
on account Of her disappearance, but /
knowing herself safe and realizing
that within short time, when the
spring came again, she would go back
to them-and that their mourning
would be turned into joy by her ar
rival, she could not concern herself |
very greatly over their present feel |
ings and emotions; and besides, what
would he the use Of worrying over
those things? There was metal more |
attractive for her thoughts close at
hand. And she was too bIissfuIly
happy to entertain for more than a
moment any sorrow.
She pictured often her return and |
never by any chance did she think Of !
going back to civilization alone. The /
man she loved would be by her side,