The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1913-07-31
Thanks to the
Weather
&,
A Situation That Brought
About a Reconciliation.
BY JOANNA SINGLE.


thought Edith very drearily as she
watched the rain beat against the win
dow. If she and Richard had not been
caught in sudden shower, to the ut
ter ruin Of her very prettiest dress, she
would never have been irritable and
quarreled with him about nothing at
all, and she would not have expected
him to take the fault upon himself
when she alone-after the weather.
was to blame. And now it had rained
Tor nearly week, and the inaction
was driving her wild. She could only
think, think, and vainly try to over
come her pride and send for him.
For the thousandth time she drew
from her dress his last letter and re-
read it:
Dearest We have been friends and
nelghbors and sweethearts all our lives
and should not let anything come between
us. l love you, and if you will just send
one word saying you want me will come
at your call and forget the nothing we
quarreled about. Should we let anything
L d
from you. If it does not come I shall
know that you really meant to break our
engagement and shall of course not trou-
BILE you. But you couldn't have meant it,
Edith? Fraternally yours,
RICHARD COPELAND.
That was all, but she had sent him
no word, thinking that in time he
would come anyhow, and then she
would let him coax her out of her an
ger. But. he had not come, and she
could not fail to respect him for refus-
ing to be played with.
SO she was very Wretched and blam-
ed her own pride and the weather.
The rain beat down warmly and inter-
mittently, and all nature expanded and
throve under its moist influence. Edith
looked across the fields to the south to
Richards home, which one day was
to have been also hers, and saw him
out in the rain on his horse, coming
from the town few miles away. How
often they two had ridden about the
country together! And now it was all
over He would never come back to
her-unless she sent for him. Could
she do it? It was early in the after
noon, and she might send her little
brother over with a note She hest
tated. Then she went to her room and
sat down to her desk. It would be
relief to write to him, even if she
could not bring herself to send it to
him:
Dear Richard-Will you come to see me
tonight? I was horrid, and I am very
sorry. If I had not been wet and cross
I should not have thought Of caring be-
cause you rode to town with Fay. OF
course you could not help her overtaking
you. She always was forward. Forgive
me and come back. You know that-I love
you-always. EDITH
She sat looking at it. Then her heart
misgave her. It had been two long
months since they parted, and he
might no longer care for her. He
might care for Fay. The neighbors
had said he had been to see her. The
letter was altogether too unguarded.
She could not tell him she loved him.
So she carelessly thrust it into her
dress with the letter from him.
She tried to busy herself about the
house, but somehow she could not
! work. She was restless and felt as if
her mother and sister saw it and would
know that she fretted for Richard. She
tried to read in her own room, but it
seemed like prison.
Along about 3 o'clock she felt as If
the day had been years long. She
could bear it no longer. She put on
some heavy shoes and an old water
proof riding habit, wound her fair hair
closely under little cap and stood be-
fore the glass thinking what a fright
she looked and rather rejoicing in the
fact. What was the use of being beau
tiful when Richard no longer loved
her?
She slipped out to the barn and sad
died Ginger, her little mare, mounted
and rode quickly out of the gate and
northward, as she did not want to pass
Richards house. Her mother saw her
ride off in the storm and wondered if
the girl was going crazy, but it was too
late to call after her. At first Ginger
wheeled and refused to believe that
she was expected to splash her dainty
hoofs through such pools Of mud and
water, but after a few snorts of pro-
test Edith convinced her with the quirt
that this wind and rain were really to
be faced, and the little beast settled
into spiteful trot .
Edith rather rejoiced at buffeting the
storm. The rain and wind cooled her
hot cheeks, and the open air relieved
the unbearable tension of her nervous
ness. For the first time since the trou-
bic with Richard she allowed herself
the unrestrained luxury Of tears. Here
out in the open, with the sting Of rain
drops In her face, she was free from
prying eyes. She did not need to keep
up her pride, and she could be as
Wretched as she really felt. She did
not look about her, but rode mile after
mile. letting the mare take her own
course.
After riding an hour or so she no.
ttced that the storm abated and, look
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