The herald., 1913-03-13
AN ANSWERED
QUESTION
BY Rose Churchill,

What has kept our lives asunder,
Tho our hearts as one agree.
Tho our lips would fain carrss,
Tho our eyes still mutely bless?
Shall we gladly read lifes story.
In the quiet rest of age,
Waiting till heavens final glory
Shines upon each darkenci page;
Till We see in fullest light
All now hidden from our sight?
Or shall We apart still drifting,
AS the shadows round lie.
Cease To wait for their uplifting,
Cease for broken toys To cry;
Forcing back each vain regret,
Praying only to forget?
That's a pretty thing they are
playing, dear What is it called?" Mr..
Blanchard asks us, with a sigh of sat
isfactiOn He settles himself more
comfortably in his cushioned rocker
and prepares himself to be sung to
sleep by his daughter Blanche, as is
his usual custom directly after supper.
He is a busy man, headmaster Of
high school and coach" TO two or
three private pupils besides, and this
is the only recreation he allows HIM
self One hour of rest and sleep be-
tween supper and the time for the ar
rival of Clinton Drysdale, his most i'm
portant pupil.
Drysdale is reading for Latin exam
nation, on which language Mr..
Blanchard is an authority of high re-
pute.
The song is called Questions "
Blanche replied, in an absent-minded
way, hurriedly wiping the tears which
| have gathered in her eyes, and hiding
| the piece in question at the back of
the music she had arranged in the
rack in front Of her.
| She plays beautifully, but can sing
we'll only in the presence of those she
| loves and whom she feels love her.
| Once she was conscious of singing
| her best when Clinton Drysdale was
present, but now strange con-
straint had sprung up between them,
and she feels shy and awkward in his
/ company. She bushes holly as she
thinks of the way she has allowed her
self to drift, as it were, into an atti'
tude of appropriation of him, which
she has no right to assume; and de
termines to be stiffness itself in her
future demeanor toward him.
Blanche is a veritable child of ma
ture," as most clever women are, and
Blanche is a clever woman, beyond
question, having taken a science de
| a nFnA nj Y
spending two years in Europe for that
purpose.
When she hears her father make a
little noise in his throat she knows
he has gone to the Land of Nod.
and takes out Questions" from its
hiding place and gives vent to hel
souls emotion in singing it again ant
again. She does not hear the from
door slam behind Clinton Drysdale
who swiftly ascends the stairs to the
drawing-room and stands on the ma
outside the slightly open door. HI
knows it is mean to listen, but he can
not resist the temptation.
Thus Blanche finds him, as, will
swift movement, she reaches thu
door without making a sound, which
may awaken her father from his much
needed slumber. Those ridiculous
songs always make me cry" she says
with a vain attempt to laugh. IS,
they do me-" Clinton said, gravely
but / call them lovely, not ridicu
lous," and then by common impuls
they sit down on the stairs (Which ar
conveniently near) and Blanche lis
tens entranced to 1.-The sweet oil
story"
81 thought you did not love me,
Blanche says, presently, shyly glar
cling up at the impassioned face abov
} her. "Your manner was so altered,
was afraid to speak to you. l though
} you must either have cared for m
; or seen some one you liked better"
, These are your only rivals" CliI
} ton says, gently drawing from hi
pocket cards and brandy flask. g
knew, as oil and water cannot mingl'
: that you and these things could neve
, share my devotion. 1t must be on
, or the other. and I could not max
: up my mind.
81 am ashamed to say it, but 1t
| the truth. l know now that l al
only throwing away the husks an
keeping the kernel, that 1 have
, treasure that Is above rubies."
How do you know that 1 am
ruby?" says Blanch. Il may b
, merely a piece Of glass for all 20
, know"
Yes, you may" says Clinton, an
then they both laugh.