The citizen. (Honesdale, Pa.) 1908-1914, 1913-01-17

bated seriously the advisability of turn
ing back and sending his farewells by
note. pleading as excuse for his non
appearance some unexpected business
matter. He solemnly assured himself
that he was a fool, both for having
dallied with unhappiness all summer
and for going now on a journey that
could only intensity futile longings.
He sustained the indictment by con
tinuing his journey. When he found
Katherine, they strolled, Katherine
chatting unconcernedly, to a seat in a
retired corner of the grounds-only the
fact would not have been significant to
John-where she had sat so long after
her talk with Warren Blake.
She leaned back in one end of the
seat. He sat at the other, as far away
from her as he could, half facing her.
She was not really beautiful-her fea-
lures were too firm for that-yet even
another than John might have been
excused for thinking her so in the
softening light of the rising moon.
Only her eyes, softly lustrous in the
pale light. marked her suppressed ex-
citement
do you realize" she said, this is
the first time we've been alone this
summer? You have really managed it
very awkwardly." AS though she had
not done all the managing!
He had nothing to say.
Am l such an ogress, or have you
been afraid that I'd propose to you
again?"
"I haven't been fool enough to take
that seriously" he said quickly. "And
I'm Oh enough to know the danger OF
playing with fire. At least" he added
II ought to have known it."
He could not help thinking of the
| months to come when, with less en-
crossing tasks to take his mind from
| the ache, he must renew the loneliness
grown more poignant, of the last win
ter He wondered now at his weak
ness in letting himself, despite his
knowledge of her and of what she
meant to him, be drawn again within
the circuit of her charm.
He became aware that she was
speaking, with that amazing courage
which was always hers.
II am sorry" she said. "But
haven't been fair to you. The things
father works for are what appeal tC
me, not the things you dream Of
! The prestige, the power, the knowl
edge that belong to the men who are
conquering, not dreams or ideals, coun
with me. 1t isn't very pretty, is it
from your point Of view? But it,
true. II could wish it were different
Last summer it was different. wa
trying to decide what I wanted. /
have always been more or less in low
with you ever since l can remember
And I saw you were beginning to care
unsexed myself, 1 pursued, to learl
whether you were what 1 wanted.
tried to believe, to make you believe
that / could have you and the rest
And I don't greatly blame myself TO
that. Because l am a woman must
sit passively by and wait for happi
less to come? l was drifting between
two fdOsls, but-struggling against It
VA SOuAoS IO"ohA JOu' iIo JOu hLNf
it's your fault l didn't drift further
You wouldn't take me. You made ;
mistake the night Of that rally, beinl
SO tinical in your notions of a poo
mans honor. You ought to have takel
me in your arms and made me go t.
you. 1 should have gone-gladly-
faithfully too. But you wouldn't"
He listened unresponsive to hel
words that, halting sometimes, fell il
low, measured tones with a curious
underlying regretfulness.
"Now it is too late. I've had time tC
think, to weigh you against the othel
things. Last winter taught me how
much they mean to me. And I fine
you-wanting. This sumner has no
changed that. What you ask costs too
much"
81 ask nothing"
"True! 1 forget-you ask nothing
Last summer you need not have asked