The Washington herald., 1913-07-20

. ASe AbsS S~o~s s~s1>
Aurelie. I remember when you used
to come into town with Knute to sell
rabbits, and the coldest winter day you
always had a bit of bright leaf stuck
somewhere about you-like an Indian
girl / thought you were at first Then
l forgot all about you, and went away
to college, and when ! next heard you
were in high school, and then this year
| met you in the hills here"
And made me love you, Harlan
Oh, it wasn't right-it wasn't right +
Then, in the way of all men and all
lovers, he laughingly kissed and COM
forted her. They went down moon
filed glen and up slope, and there
the silent town lay, the courthouse
tower white as silver above the robing
trees. Sinsinawa was tinkling down
from the highlands at their feet, and
across it a trail lay TO the first street
at the foot of the bluff. In window
of a cottage tucked at the foot of the
rock they saw the blur of lamp, and
he knew it was Wiley Curran, idling
over his editorials: for the graeeless
renegade of Rome had a way of turn
ing night into day and writing or vast
ing hours when decent folk were all
abed.
And when it seemed that he was
about to leave her at this accustomed
parting place, she clung to him sud-
denly, whispering: Take me with you
oh, take me with you! can't let
you go-oh, / can't!"
She held so tightly to him that he
could not go If he had tried, and after
long, vain comforting, murmuring TO
her all he had said a hundred times, he
slowly unfolded her arms and looked
down at her intently. A sense of her
great loneliness without him, without
her school, without the bit of aspira-
tion and of vague hope she had come
to find, touched him as it had never
done before.
"Aurelie," he muttered, Il can't do
that-you know | can't. I must finish
school and buck into work. Before |
-I-marry you," he blurted tenderly.
But you ought to have a place
something to do. and-be, while we re
waiting. dear. And I'm going to take
you to mother and tell her all -
She looked up frightened at his stub
born face. "No-no-wait~
First, I'll tell Wiley Curran. You
know that editor? He's my best friend
here-the only one | care about par
ticularly in town. And l trust him in
things of this so.t-he could look at it
right and honestly, without any fool
ishness about my family and that kind
of thing. Dear, we'll go tell Wiley,
and if he says to tell mother and
father, we'll do it-and have the whole
matter out" He cried out joyously,
brave with the hazard of it. He felt
suddenly a man going out to a mans
world and work, knowing that he left
her with the honor of his faith: and
this brave knowledge was worth all
the miserable travesties of good
OF his set" These were well enough
for old women } fiddle over, but they
were not for youth, nor love, nor the
glory of this first protecting manhood
and its surety of the years to come,
that future which would achieve all,
ennoble all, redeem all
He saw suddenly her own fine
achievement She, who gave her whole
life TO him. as one would place a rose
in his hand. She would sit small, PEN
sive, alone, waiting for him in the
hills. or in the squalid quarry house !;
she would wear old and faded gowns
when she loved brightness and pleasant
things; about her the corn fields would
crown the hills green. and turn to
bronze shields before the winter; and
spring bring again its black damp to
the woods-and always she would wait,
If he asked her-wait, wait, wait! Al
ways he felt this steadfastness above
her impulses and rebellions. With him
she might find her real self, rise to
any station, become anything, so great
he felt her love to be.
"Aurelie, we're not afraid! Why.
dear-we ought to have done it long
ago! Why, mother-after all, she's
the best mother in the world! Why,
a word from her would make every
thing different for you, Aurelie-just
to have it known she was your friend
He was taking her on exultantly now
by the trail down through the laurel
and boulders which led to the end of
the street back of Curran's house. She
was frightened; she had never seen
him so ardent. so rebellious.
Tonight she cried. 'Oh, Harlan
my dress"
ITS dear little dress"
Her hand went to the flower in her
hair; she was dumb before his resolu-
ton.
Don't touch il! It's a BIT of flame
just like you" He laughed. This
was so easyi This was what they
should have done long ago! All his
life had been without secrecy or re-
proach; and now, to take his sweet
heart by the hand and go down buoy
antly to the town TO face them all
How easy it was under the witchery
of the September moon!
They were both laughing, nervously,
yet with happiness. when he lifted her
down the last rock among the night
damp leaves and burst through the
grape tangle to the street. crossing SIN
sinawa. looking down in the pools at
their reflections. They were coming to
the thrst houses, the lamp in the win
dow, and somewhere the murmur of
voices from neighbors visiting on the |
people, kind, true people. !
They should be her people now. This |
was the beautiful answer he would
make to conventions and curious eyes !
- al. L., h. tv,