The Irish standard., 1914-04-11

doing and thinking. I wonder? I have
spent those cons IN the garden, lust
wandering about, dreaming over those
wonderful. wonderful moments by the
sun-dial All, dear little wild heart
born Of the flowers. with the soul OF
q bird (yet you are woman, too!) that
old disk is marking happy hours now
for mel
"How' have I deserved this thing
that has come to me?-sad bungler
that have been! Sometimes 1t seems
too glad and sweet. and I am suddenly
desperately afraid I shall wake to ind
myself facing another dull morning
In that old, useless. empty life Of mine.
I am very humble, dear, before your
love.
Shall tell you when it began with
me? Not last night-nor the day We
planted the ramblers. (Do you know,
when your little muddy boot went
trampling down the earth about their
roots, wanted to etoop down and
kiss it, So dear everything about
you was!) Not that evening at Rose
wood, with the arbor fragrance about
as. Il think shall always picture you
with roses all about you. Red roses
the color Of your lips!) No, It was not
then that 1t began-nor that dreadful
hour when you fought with me to save
my nfe-nor the morning you sat your
horse IN the box.rows in that yev.
green habit that made your hair look
like molten copper. No. 1t began the
first afternoon, when I sat In my mo.
tor with your rose in my handi Il
Aas never left mo since. By day or b.
night. And yet there are people In
this age Of airships and honking high
ways and typewriters who think love-
at-frst-sight is as out-of-date az our
little grandmothers' hoops rusting in
the garnet. All, sweetheart, I. for one.
know better!
Suppose had not come to Vire
ginia-and known you! My heart
Jumps when I think Of It. It makes
one believe In fate. Here at the Court
l found an old leaf-calendar-it sta
at my elbow now, Just q, came on It.
The date 1t shows 10 May 14th. and
Its motto is: Every man carries his
fate upon Q riband about his neck
like that.
THAT first Sunday at st. Andrews.
! thought Of day-may It be soon!-
when you and might stand before
that altar. with your people (my
people. too, now around US. and
shall hear you say: 7. Shirley. take
thee, John And to think 1t is really
to come true! Do you remember the
text the minister preached from? It was
But all men perceive that they have
riches, and that their faces shine a.
the faces Of angels I think I shall
go about henceforth with my face
shining. 80 that all men will SEQ that
! have riches-your love for me. dear.
II am 80 happy can hardly sec the
words-or perhaps 1t q that the sun
has set. I am sending this over by
Uncle Jefferson. Send me back Just
q word by him. sweetheart, to say I
may come to you tonight. And add
the three short words am 80 thirsty
to hear over and Overcome verb be.
tween two pronouns-so that can
kiss them all at once!"
He raised his head. little flushed
and with eyes brilliant. lighted q
candle. sealed the letter with the ring
he wore and dispatched 1t.
Thereafter he sat looking into the
growing dusk, watching the pale
lamps of the consultations deepen to
green gilt against the lapis-lazuM Of
the sky. and listening to the insect
noises dulling into the woven chorus
OF evening. Uncle Jefferson was long
In returning, and he grew impatient
finally and began to prowl through the
dusty corridors like leopard, then
to the front porch and finally to the
driveway, listening at every turn for
the familiar slouching step.
When at length the old negro ap.
peared. Valiant took the note he
brought, his heart beating rapidly.
and carried it hastily in to the candle.
light. He did not open It at once, but
sat for full minute pressing 1t be-
tween his palms as though to extract
from the delicate paper the beloved
thrill Of her touch. His hand shook
slightly as he drew the folded leaves
from the envelope. How would it be-
gin? my Knight Of the Crimson
Rose?" or Dear Gardener" (she had
called him Gardener the day they had
set out the roses) or perhaps even
Sweetheart" It would not be LONG
only q mere Eyes" or "Come to me-
perhaps; yet even the shortest missivs
had its beginning and its ending.
He opened and read.
For an instant he stared unbeliev
ingly. Then the paper cracked to q
ball in his clutched hand. and he made
q hoarse sound which was half cry,
then sat perfectly still. his whole face
shuddering. What he crushed in hia
hand was no note of tender love-
phrases; 1t was an abrupt dismissal
The staggering contretemps struck
the color from his face and left every
nerve raw and quive4ing. To be moth,
ing to her, as she could be nothing to
'him?" He felt CHASTITY inclination to
laugh. Nothing to her!
Presently, his brows frowning heav
lily. he spread out the crumpled paper
and reread it with bitter slowness,
weighing each phrase. "Somethins
which she had learned since she last
saw him, which lay between them"
She had not known it, then. last nisht,
when they had kissed beside the sun.
dial! She had loved him %han1 What