Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1914-02-15
BY MYRTA LOCKETT AVARY

moment week ago that had brought forth this, what
cynical outburs what words that might have read like
appeal for her oveo \ week ago he had been sick
death OF sham, and his thoughts had flown to
Dorothea to haven OF rest, seeking her thirsty
seeks rill Of pure water, man coming out OF
scented darkened, artificialy lighted midday
turns his face the clear blue sky.
He read the letter and over, looked at it long
time holding it something and precious, pearl
OF great price. Should he sell all he had and buy9 To
love, be loved like this travail it was labor, it
sacrifice. He held the letter with reverent and
shpful touch touches the relic of saint whereby
he may be healed.
He sighed last, the long, deepdrawn sigh OF
who says farewell to high hope. He looked up to his
nlanel, where lovely, ndoent, insolent face smiled
down on him from picture frame, Their at the letter
again with such rapt gaze as he had never bestowed
upon that picture But presently he said slowly, at is
easier 10 give vioets and roses than this
He laid the letter the glowing Goals in the CRATE
These lines stood in characters of fire. strive with
him against all powers OF evil highest and
nobest self spiritual enforcement OF the
beloved. The letter gray ashes. Henceforth
loves meaning should trouble him He would
have the broideres, would linger in the valleys and
never climb to the mountainous whence Heaven may
be SEEN
THE boudoir pink like the heart of a rose. The
wood fire shot titful flashes athwart it and played
Martha, picture OF loneliness and luxury she
in the red dusk, nlsng, with the silk and lace dra-
distinctly wearisole,' she murnured, this life I'm
leading. l wonder what Harold by talking so?
No, | know what he meant: Flowers, the play, the
opera, receptions, dances. They well enough; but
they not everything, however tries make
them So
\ Psyche lamp stood table at her elbow. \ lazy
OF her white fingers and soft light fell
open miniature and writing materials ready her
hand. The picture was that of Young officer in army
blue.
My love, my soldier, Only memory; but, even So
oh how much me. More than all the flowers of all the
world. And have tried to forget There nothing
INDECENT, insolent insouciant, about her face
"Thank God could not forget, Ah we'll, she sighed
@the play over and nobody hurt Suddenly she sat
upright. Can somebody have been hurt some woman
who may be really loving Harold? No. no; for he loves
nobody
But she began to write swiftly:
DEAR HARoLD-You have made a mistake in your con-
cept what love Of what will as
love You could have made it had you been my
lover. forgive YOU And forgive me; for you
could have made had really loved you. Heaven
forgive having played at love! Mine is the graver
fault Tor have known what love is. thank God! think
You have not.
Let say this to You for all women Men mistake
when they think feed husks- We're growing.
Conventional compliments, passionate VOWS,
tender caressesyes, want these, will always
them; but they not enough. We want the highest
love that makes better. We need
when do know that it. The world has been
saving for Its womans exercise good
influence men 1t is mans elevate the woman
soul that leadeth him on
Playthings. idols vampires slaves may have been
somewhat Of these in the past slaves tyrant
taskmasters. may have been to bur that day is
ended. The old order changeth giving place new =
comrades for the higher life.
You have sought to make nobler, you. Our
hearts have been compact 1t has been yoke of
violes and but bondage all the think have
been deep friendship for this
when setting free; for now am helping
all l to be your highest self
Call no woman wife. my friend. until you know the
meaning of love! Love is a sacrament. MARTHA
She wrote another letter: