The Detroit times., 1913-08-11

aced. NOW, cut my Hnser.
It's what people do who get mad
and slam things"
IF | had anybody, they'd kiss my
fingers when | cut EN-
Mr.. Curran took that finger He
looked at IL and kissed II gently Then
he looked up TO see the tears and
laughter in her eyes.
I'm glad you're foolish" she cried,
and he whispered
so am l.
Il guess we're a good deal like each
other
I'm afraid SO! You're a problem
Aurelie No wonder Harlan couldn't
make anything out of you. He's all
broken up, poor chap
why can't you be sorry for me
little bit? sent Harlan away. Mr.
Curran. | wasn't going to hurt his
career. I'm going to be somebody
myself. Be new woman like Miss
Vance. and write pieces for the pa
per; and not bother about a home
and some babies like | want"
"Aurelie, can't understand you"
She sat on the trunk and sighed
That's on top. Down IN my heart
want to run away down-river with
Uncle Mich and to the Cajun country
where we went to the island balls and
! wore hyacinths In my hair do,
Mr.. Curran,"
Lord bless you" cried Mr.. Cur
ran; you love Harlan"
NO, | don't. But | want to be
loved by somebody just like | ana
sort OF wandery person who'd be will
Ing to go off on adventures. And not
have any people or careers Just be
brave and foolish, like you"
Mr.. Curran contemplated her quite
calmly. "Aurelie,' he demanded, ARE
you going ever to marry Harlan"
Never. never-never, II was only
because | was lonely, and sentimen-
talist-is that It? 1t was such a great
thing that summer But now? Why
| have theater managers come and
help me roll stockings and stick 'em
in my trunk! Mr.. Feldman just did"
"Aurelie," went on Mr.. Curran
steadily and sternly, about Harlan
you're making great mistake II you
throw him off,"
She regarded him demurely through
half-closed limpid eyes
Some people | know wouldn't be
sorry If did,
Aurelie was plainly playing with
poor Mr.. Curran. He felt It and was
enraged IF you weren't so grown
up, Id spank you! You-a young
LADY,"
I'm not. Ask Harlan's mother or
some OF the Shakespeare club. I'm
vulgar and nobody-just Old Michi-
gan's girl,'
Mr. Curran sat despairngly down.
Never TO him had she been so beau
THU, buoyant, so arch with JOY SO in
finite with possibilities. so gay with
ollthe courage. Love Harlan? Surely
not. This was life she was loving
smiles and tears and triumphs-she
was enraptured with it all, and she
would love no one now, She was
hnding herself; she was unfolding
splendidly, dangerously, out of the
hard and meager years she had
served
John says the reason he won't let
the FAMILY have your presents is be-
cause you're a contrivance of the
devil"
But you like the DEVILS contriv-
ances, don't you. Mr.. Curran?"
Il expect | do, Aurelie.'
And you don't care hang what
congress thinks"
I'm afraid not, Aurelie."
She came with laughter to him
anu kissed him. Nobody can see us,
WHAT'S the use of hating anybody?
Or being sorry? Or pining because
they don't love you? Oh, let's Just
go on and be fine with every one,
/ m trying TO be religious. say
prayers when I amt too sleepy. And
I'm collecting Madonna heads. and |
give dimes TO all the beggars. Ada
says it's silly. to cross the street
to give dimes to people, but | tell
her it's religious"
Somehow" he muttered Il have
to forgive you. DO you know you are
living, Aurelie, every day? That's
what ii means-to be gay and happy
and kind. and not bother too much
about other things" He took her
hands Dear girl, life isn't so much
WHINING anything as always trying.
It's better to travel than TO arrive as
seine one said And oh, SO many
years stood still-until you came,
Aurelie. I can't exactly explain 1t
you can't imagine how you helped
me-"
She looked at him wild-oyed.
Helped you you?"
Il knew you wouldn't" he went on
despairingly.
she was still for time. IL wish
could understand, It's fine to know
you. never used to feel so hopeless
after | met you. You made me happy
because you saw something in mel
wasn't just common to you" He
looked up TO see some grateful shin.
ing i'll her eyes-"And the funny old
town-we were both rebels. weren't
we? And just suppose you did go to
congress. and | became real &C.
tress" She stood by the window
and stared out across the busy street
to where, even in Earlville, one saw
the encircling hills.
What, then, Aurelie"
Why. we'd both remember how we
helped each other"
He went away with 8. surge of his
heart he could not still. Now write
me every week" she had said. Nice
friendly letters-and not fatherly-ad.
vice letters as II you we're baldheaded.
Mr.. Curran!"
When he had gone home, he climbed
Eagle Point trail before he could sleep.
And be did a purioua thfpo ror N raa