Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1913-11-27
|slush written about you In the sunday

Islush written about you in the Sunday
papers!"
She was puzzled. trying to under
stand his viewpoint. It seemed that
the brilliant world had beckoned to
her, found her In her dolorous corner,
her deteated n stormy little life
and he who loved her best was angry
at 1t all!
"oh. little grill" he whispered, "just
an hour ago l thought l was going to
and defy the whole world for you!
Just mine, Aurelie-and what we would
do would be big and brave. II mother
wouldn't ave it, I'd run away with
you! I'd go to work at anything, giNe
up my law and chance with the firm
"Yes! And I felt like dancing, per-
fectly happy! And proud-oh, SO
proud Of you. But what's the matter
III be famous the editor said-anS
maybe rich-and go to Chicago .
and nave pieces in the paper! Oh, boy,
pretty She looked at him with min
gled humiliation and rebellion. You
ought to be glad!"
His grave eyes were ruthless with
some new command. He took her
shoulders and held her SO that she
could not evade him. She stared up
at him. then relaxed from her tense-
Ian, ! just kept on in school this year
to please YOU only try anything be-
cause you want me to. And now you'd
think I'd committed some crime-and
I've done nothing except be pretty! All.
Name OF God! Sometimes l wish I was
a cajun girl again. back on Bayou Pc
rot, where we lived in q grass house
one time. l can remembers! I wist
we'd never ON up here among these
cold Yankees!" She clasped him pas
sionately. But then I love one. You
don't know what that means, dear, to
me! Down In the bayou country we're
women at 1--we marry because we
love-oh, just as 1 love you-without
thinking. or reason, or %virtue!"
Il know" he whispered. You've
told me all"
Il saw a man killed once down-riv-
er. A woman stabbed him and he fell
on the deck right where l was playing.
! don't know why. eh?" She looked at
him with her alert challenge-"But I
even when I was a child l didn't blame
her. Harlan. l suppose I am a savage
now, amt I-going to school with all
those nice girls in white dresses!"
"Aurelie." he answered slowly. rm
going away to school tomorrow. And
was going to take you to mother to-
night. Tell her everything-ask her
to protect You, help you-make of you
tho sort OF woman you can be IT you
had a chance I thought you'd be
waiting for me-and trying, always!"
Her eyes were quick with tears. Be,
meath her laughter they were never
far away.
7 wanted you to know my mother"
he went on patiently. But / wanted
you to be yourself, always, too. Good
and fine-the best in your gay little
solf, because it's all there! And now
this CHASTITY thing Of Wiley's-the Juror
and publicity of it. Why, my mother
she couldn't stand It'll"
She watched him long; her fingers
his shoulder. well, then" she NUT
tered humbly. Il won't. I'll give it all
up-the prize and everything-if you
ask me to-"
It's too late for that"
NO, 1t isn't. I Won have a thing
paper-or anything!"
He smiled at her simplicity. "Oh
Aurelia, l wish they'd never have dis
covered you'll"
From the path they were descending
she watched a distant patch of water
touched by a mist of light. Beyond it
was the east, the radiant land; over
| lllS g6llGlll lllLlS VI Llc river WAY SOill6
unknown glory reckoning her. She
sighed and put by the undreamed all
lurement; it seemed that since she had
known Harlan h was always putting
something by, renouncing, struggling;
trying to do or be something quite I'M
attained. That was love, she answered
Ito enounc and not be embtttered, to
try for something better thar one had.
to be better II one truly was. That
was 1t. Love meant trying!
Nobody will a me-" h went on
slowly. Il won't pay any attention to
'em. I owe you h a way. Harlan.
Just to wish my face was ugly if it
eyes, If you wanted me to! Just to live
on here and be the b~ootlegger's girl
from the bottoms, and never have a
pretty dress. / will, If you want me
to-"
He did not answer for a time. She
could not tell that he was conquering
the lump in his throat at h pathos of
and she nodded; and so they went on
through the moonlight to his home.
They crossed the wide lawn where
Palf, the great friendly Saint Bernard,
came to greet them. Some n was
singing in h parlors. 1t was Elise
Dickinson, and a Schumann song; and
Harlan slowly remembered that this
was theiF last HlsHl at nouns oeiofe
he went to Harvard n Elise to Bryn
Mawr, and that all the boys he had
grown up with, played football and
debated with; and all h girls he had
danced with his life long, a gathered
to speed him well. Elise was going
too; it was partly in her honor.
CONTINUED next week.)
Can Walk Across River.
From the New York World.