The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 1913-11-27
cHAPTER 1v.-(continued.)

CHAPTER W.-(Continued.)
He went on gently. but troubled by
the tenseness Of her face: "Only q
year. n the a isn't far, dear.
Only two days travel or sol"
The east was an unknown splendor
70 her. 1t looked too critically, with
the cool measuring Of his mother, the
same reserve h had seen at times
IN his own eyes And she-she was
ready to give all. to pour out her life
at his feet. She took his arm and put
It about her m looked down at the
know what I'll do. I was only going to
school because of you, Harlan. I hate
IT! Only for you and now
Papa Lindstrom won't have that. And
he's hurt. and his wife's DO good-just
worn out, and the boys are too little to
help. Sometimes I think I ought to
work-perhaps clerk at Dickinson's
grocery"
He smiled at the Idea OF Aurelia, the
wild hawk. clerking! She would not
stand it a day. Then he WINGED. He
thought of Elsie, the grocer's daughter,
and her amiable patroniZing. of the
town girls who worked there; OF his
mother giving her orders of a morning
from the surrey to some young woman
who brought out a scoopful OF sugar
for inspection and apologized for q de-
lay. Aurelia-she would throw 1t into
the customers face IL she fancied q
slight!
She e his thoughts. you think /
couldn't, don't you? Oh. boy, I could
for you! You hold me from being
rebellious and ridiculous. l could Just
do anything for you-run away with
you, or go to work-just ~anything!"
He felt her trembling in his arms.
Sometimes, Aurelie, l think we ought
to go down to the house and make q
clean breast Of it. Tell them every
thing-that I o you, dear!"
Her voice choked with gratefulness-
dimly she could feel what a sacrifice he
was making. But now the prospect
frightened her. ooh, no-not yet. Your
father-he'd hate me. now!"
Hate you? Why. Aurelie, he'd help
at the thanksgiving books or some
thing. But you cam keep books.
YOU'RE all lightness and temper and
lovableness-you'd have to have the
outdoors, or you'd not live. But If you
did have a place that would pave the
way for you'-he hesitated, wondering
how to say it and not hurt her absurd
price-"raise you, so that some day
people would sort Of forget!"
"Forget?"
Where you came from, dear. Down
the river with Old Michigan-and that
you haven't even a name except a Dor
rowed one from Lindstrom." He
laughed to smooth it over-"Oh, but
It's funny! You're a wild hawk, Au-
relic. I remember when you used to
come into town with Knute to sell rab-
bits, and the coolest winter day you
always had a bit Of bright leaf stuck
somewhere about you-hke an Indian
girl! I thought you were at first. The
I forgot all about you and went away
to college, n when I next heard you
-or ~ h;rh cohNpl. or1 fhor this 1ya9 r
I met you in the hills, here"
"And made me love ou, Harlan. Oh,
1t wasn't right-it wasn't right"
Then. In the way of all men n all
lovers, he laughingly kissed and COM
forted her. They went Town a moon
filled glen and up a slope. and there
the silent town lay, the court house
tower white as silver above the robing
trees. Sinsinawa was tinkling down
from the highland at their feet, and
across it a trail lay to the first street
at the foot OF the bluff. In a window
of a cottage tucked at the foot Of the
rock, they saw the blur Of a lamp, and
he knew It vac Wiley Curran idling
over his editorials. for the graceless
renegade Of Rome had a way of turn
ing night into day and writing or vast
ing hours when decent folk were all
And when it seemed that he was
about to leave her at this accustomed
parting place, she chung to him, sud
denly whispering; a me with you
oh, take me with you! I can't let you
Eo-oh, I can'tl"
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-
ton and of vague hope h had come
to find, touched him as 1t had never
done before.
"Aurelie," he muttered, II can't do
+batNyou know / can't. I must finish
school and buck into work. Before L
marry you" he blurted tenderly,
"But you ought to have q place-some-
thing to do and-be while we're wait
Ing dear! And Pm going to AXE 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 I care about parti-
cularly in town. And I trust him In
things Of this sort-he could look at
It right and honestly, without any
foolishness about my family and tina
kind of thing. Dear, We'll go tell Will
ey. and If he says to tell mother and
father, we'll do it-and nave the whole
matter out!" he crled out JoyouSiy
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 homo OF his faith; and
this brave knowledge was worth all
the miserable travesties of good form
the SNUG and easy conventions Of his
"set". These were we'll enough for old
women to fiddle over. but they were
not for youth, nor love, nor the glory
Of this first protecting manhood end
its surety OF the years to come. that
future which would achieve all. ennoble
all. redeem all.
70 sa w a16denly her own fine achie-