Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1914-05-15

roses had not found them. In her
childish hurts she had always fed to
the companionship of the trees. She
had known them every one-the black
gum and pale dogwood and gnarled
hickory, the prickly-balled button
wood" the lowly mulberry and the
majestic red oak and walnut. They
had seemed friendly and plying coun-
sellers, standing about her with arms
intertwined. Now, with the rain weep
ing in soughing gusts through them,
they offered her no comfort. She sud-
denly threw herself face down on the
soaked moss.
"Oh, Godi" she cried. 81 love him
SO! And ! had only that one evening.
1t doesn't seem just. If l could only
have him, and suffer some other wayl
He's suffering, too, and 1t isn't our
fault! We neither of us harmed any
onei He isn't responsible for what
his father did-why, he hardly knew
himi Oh, God. why must it be SO
hard for us? Millions of other people
love each other and nothing separates
them like thisl"
Shirley's warm breath made a little
fog against the etar-eyed moss. She
was scarcely conscious of her wet and
clinging clothing, and the soaked
strands of her hair. She was SO
wrapped in her ~desolation that she no
longer heard the sound of the perse-
vering rain and the wet swishine of
the bushes-parting now to a hurried
step that fell almost without sound on
tho spongy forest soil. She started
up suddenly to see Valiant before her.
He was in a somewhat battered
walking suit of brown khaki. with a
leather belt and a felt hat whose brim,
stiff with the wet, was curved down
visor-wise over his brow. In an in
slant he had drawn her upright, and
they stood, looking at each other,
drenched and trembling.
How can your" he said with q
roughness that sounded akin to anger.
Here in this atrocious weather-like
thlsi" he laid a hand on her arm.
you're wet through"
IL don't mind the rain," she an
swered, drawing away, yet feeling
with a guilty thrill the masterfulness
of his tone, as well as its real concern.
I'm often wet"
His gaze searched her face, feature
by feature, noting her pallor, the blue
black shadows beneath her eyes, the
caught breath, uneven like a child's
from crying. He still held her hands
in his.
Shirley" he said, 81 know what you
intended to tell me by those flowers
l went to st. Andrews that night, in
the dark, after I read your letter.
Who told you? Your-mother?"
mo, mol" she cried. "She would
never have told mel"
His face lighted. With an irresist-
ible movement he caught her to him.
Shirley" he cried. at shan't bel
1t shan't I tell you'll You can't break
our lives in two like this! It's I'M
thinkabIe."
mo, mol" she said piteously, push
ing him from her. "You don't under
stand. You are a man, and mem
can't"
II do understand" he insisted. ooh,
my darling, my darlingl It isn't right
for that spectral thing to come be-
tween usl Why, 1t belonged to a past
~generationI However sad the out
come ofaShat duel, 1t held no dishonor.
I know only too well the ruin 1t
brought my fatheri It's enough that
it wrecked three lives. 1t shan't rise
again, like Banquo's ghost to haunt
ours! / know what you Think
would love you the more, II I could
love you more, for that sweet loyalty
but it's wrong, dear. It's wrong!"
TITS the only way"
Listen. Your mother loves you.
II she knew you loved me, she would
bear anything rather than have you
suffer like this. You say she wouldn't
have told you herself. Why, If my
father"
She tore her hands from his and
faced him with a cry. "Ah, that is it!
You knew your father SO little. He
was never to you what she is to me.
Why, I've been all the life she has
had. I remember when she mended
my dolls, and held me when I had
scarlet fever. and sang me the songs
the trees sang to themselves at night.
l said my prayers at her knee till l
was twelve years old. We were never
apart a day till 1 went away to school"
She paused, breathless.
Doesn't that prove what I say? ?"
he said, bending toward her. "She
loves you far better than herself. She
wants your happiness"
Gould that mean hers?" she de-
manded, her bosom heaving. To see
us together - always = alwaysl To
be reminded in everything-the lines
of your face-the tones of your voice,
maybe-of thatl Oh, you don't know
how women feel-how they remember
how they grievel I've gone over all
you can say till my soul cries out, but
1t can't change it. 1t can't!