Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-11-16

"Thirnblc IslanG37
She stammered IL think it really be
gan in Your studio.
in New York!
you interested me-and you snubbed
me so completely. You were 50 impolite,
John Markham. was curious about you.
You were like no man had ever met. You
told me the truth. didn't like it; but
respected YOU for telling it. When | went
away remember wanting to see you again.
At Thimble Island
"Yes2@
She hid her face in his breast, and the
words came slowly. "AIy visit toto Thin
bic Island-I-I knew you were there. My
m-motor didn't miss fire, Philidor.7
He raised her head and made her look at
him. Even in the wan light her face was
rosy with her confession. But she laughed
joyously.
to me. Alas! | ended by-by scrubbing
your foor!'
Diana of the tubs. How you scrub bed"
Il liked it. You were very nice at Thin
bic Island, Philidor.' She paused mo-
ment "Then Olga came-and the others.
She quite owned you then, didn't she?'
NO. he replied slowly.
Il don't think | really liked Olga's face
powder on your coat, Dear
He was silent.
a knew you didn't love her. You couldn't.
She wasn't your sort. You didn't care for
her, did you?' jerkily.
He looked down into her eyes tenderly;
but made no reply. She sighed; but asked
no more questions. And when he knew that
she understood the meaning Of his silence
he took her head between his hands and
made her look at him.
"Isn't it enough for me to say to you that
| love you better than all the world, Dear,
that am yours wholly and indivisibly-
my past, my future
ooh, am content, she whispered quick
ly. "Your past shall be what you have
made it. I'm not afraid But Your future"
own and held it to her heart, THAT is mine!7
THERE was a silence rich with meaning.
! The stream, the whispering boughs, the
rising breeze in the treetops, joined in the
soft chorus of their nuptlal song. The night
fell, shrouded in mystery. Behind them
over their shoulders a new moon rose, a
harbinger of good fortune; but they did not
turn to look at it. 1t could not foretell them
a fortune that was already theirs. It's light
flowed through the shadows, paling the sill
houette of the leaves against the afterglow,
bathing them both in liquid silver.
He told her many of the things that she
already knew; but each reiteration had a
new meaning and a new delight. The same
immortal questions and answers, ever new,
ever mystifying! The touch Of hands, Of
eyes, the physical contact, outward tokens
of the spiritual pact made already, the weld
ing of the bonds that were to make them
one! The moments of their more intimate
confessions past, he told her of the friend
ship of Mrs. Hammond and what she had
done to set the story right; but she did not
seem to hear him. Her gaze was upon the
pale rim of light along the hilltop beyond,
a gaze that looked and saw nothing beyond
the rosy aura of her thoughts.
what does it matter now she muir
INJURED. what does anything matter
after thiso"
"You will marry me-soon?1 he urged
her.
She sighed softly and laid her hands III his.
whenever you want me TO, she said, with
eloquent simplicity.
Tomorrow
She smiled nlischievously. Il must, |
think, Philidor. Would you have me com
prornised?
He laughed happily. "Yes, compromised
by reverence, pilloried by tenderness
mot reverence, Philidor. I'm only little
devil, after all
Then devils are angels in Vagabondia.