The central record. (Lancaster, Ky.) 18??-current, 1913-04-04
MEANT ANOTHER MAN
BY LOUISE HE,teERs.

Next spring." answered the man.
Just when the leaves are green
shall be here with you again"
They are yellow now" said the wo-
man, her eyes on the fading trees
about them. A cold little wind sent
plenty of bronze and golden treasure
fallen from their branches scurrying
about their feet.
There was a smell of damp earth
and bracken in the air. On the gray
river beyond more yellow leaves float
ed. heralds to the water fowl Of the
coming winter.
1t is not easy in the autumn to think
of spring.
The young woman sighed as she
looked.
1T will seem a long time" she
said.
But spring comes every year. Just
the same" the man reminded her. 1T
is here really all the while buried in
the bark and the earth, just waiting
for the signal to come to life again"
81 was not thinking of the spring
just then" said the woman, but of
you"
What are six months?' asked the
man; six months out of lifetime?"
Everything or nothing" the woman
returned. You may forget"
But, on the other hand, / might re-
member" The man slipped an arm
through hers caressingly. Come,
Marion. cheer up. refuse to be de-
pressed by dismal prophecies. l am
yours; you are mine. Nothing can
alter that-save death"
And another woman" The words
slipped from her almost unconscious
ly. You will meet so many on your
travels, and the nearest woman is al
ways the dearest"
You talk as if 1 we're some silly
boy" the man frowned. Have l ever
given you cause to be jealous Of me,
Marion?"
NO." she answered, truthfully
But then you have never been away
before"
Next time you shall come with me-"
the man promised her. I'VE shall be
married, Marion, when the leaves are
green"
He caught her to him with a sudden
passion. Marion, think of the spring
and me-" he whispered to her.
But, womanlike, she could only think
of the coming winter.
A man and a girl walked upon the
grassy slope Of a hill in southern
France. All about the crocuses
cleaned like jewels among the grass
The sun was daffodil, the wind had
handfuls of violets, the sky was a big
hyacinth.
81 love the spring-don't your" said
the girl, turning pink and vivid face
to his. 1T makes me feel as II were
being born again. Everything seems
so fresh and new"
You make the spring for me-" an
swered the man, and his hand touched
her dark, uncovered hair.
But l don't make the sun and the
buds and the flowers" objected the
girl smilingly. And the leaves-see
how green they are!"
His hand fell from her hair.
when the leaves are green What
had he promised another woman last
year? To be back when the leaves
were green again!
The leaves were green. He caught
his breath; then suddenly q thought
came to his aid. The trees were green
here-yes-in the south, but in Eng
land they would still be bare and toss
empty branches to the sparrows and
the wind.
He had another month at least. He
turned impatiently to the girl.
Kiss me-" he said imperatively.
Their lips met.
In April trees are green. But April
came and went, and one woman
walked alone; May, June and July
sped by, all rose and gold; August
stalked through the land with a
scythe beneath his arm; September.
red-cheeked, with wind-blown hair,
passed like a dream among the or
chards. Then came October and the
fall of the leaves.
A man and a woman walked to-
gether through the woods to where
the water cleaned among the trees,
| like a big, white bird with wings out
stretched
you are six months late" the wo-
man answered DULY.
But journeys end in lovers meet
ings," he returned lightly. Business
kept me, sweetheart-not my will"
You are six months late" the wo-
man said again. "Too late" she add
ed significantly.
He stared at her. what do you
| mean?" he asked.
She turned suddenly and faced him,
a red spot Of color in either cheek, her
| eyes dark, intense.
What does it mean," she asked,
when a man leaves a woman for
months without a letter or q word?
| It means another woman. What does
It mean when a woman, left alone for
months, turns to somebody else for
companionship? 1t means another
| man"
And you promised to wait for mel"
The man was white to the lips.
She laughed-a bitter little laugh.
"'Till the leaves were green you
said. Well, I waited. But now"-she
pointed all around to where from
every tree the leaves hung brown and
gold. They were everywhere beneath
the paths. Even upon the water they
lay yellow, floating seaward, like the
little fireboats that Hindus send after
| their dead,