Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1914-11-18
CHAPTER III.

uel Hill, my soul is the exact hui
OF tea with lemon in it. shading Of
to the color of a jam sandwich"
= With petulant little gesture, Iril
turned from the window out of which
she had been gazing at the slowl!
darkening city. Il !. 81 45.; II
You always spoil my best ideas!'
she said. ''Why can't you reply sym
pathetically? But you shall have tea
y OF course 4a5lsg!%.l
AS she crossed over to seat hersel
beside him, he noted the shade thai
\ clouded her eyes. She settled her
4 self in her corner of the sofa and hi
\ leaned over, taking both her hands
in his.
II GU mustn't be Cross" he said, ten
4 DERBY. +. N Il 9s+e
ID think you owe it to me to be 8
little more-more romantic! No!
That is a poor word to express my
meaning. A little more poetic! Why
Il you don't even look like an artist any
more!"a i5...ss'
II Don't II" said he, slowly rising and
regarding himself in a mirror opposite
Iris" said he after q moment OF 81
lent inspection, unjust a fellow really
have long hair in order to be a good
painter, do you think?"
Don't be absurd" she answered;
ut isn't that, Of course! But 1t Is
something deeper, something more i'm.
portant, far. Why. If; I did not see
the lovely things you do with your
brush, i could not believe you were
1 an artist. You never give out your
temperament in any other way, and !
am hungry for It,"
n For what?" he asked. "A lot Of
silly talk about the color Of your soul
{ Lord! grille, can't you learn to live
those things instead" Of talking about
them? Can't you see that they lose
in value If expressed in any but the
highest way? One has to keep ones
mouth shut in 3 order that all the
strength be left for ones hand"
And apply none of it to daily life?'
she, cried. -. IL
Live it; don't apply It," he an
Iswered dryly. g., .... 4
a Zone grows by expression!" she de-
c1ared; ,"by expression of every sort.
MY fathers friends, lots Of the people
who come here, are living splendidly
inside themselves, and they give 1t
out, and consequently they are inter-
esting. When I became engaged to
you thought was going to find the
same eort of intercourse, only intensi-
fed. But you are not what thought
you were, and my soul is unsatisfied."
Look here, dearest" said he lightly,
"don't go for me the first day you
get home. It's long while-two en-
tire weeks-since we have been to-
agether, and here we 60. of the handle,
first thing. Let's cut it out, and be
sweet to each other instead. Tell me
about the last couple of weeks. You're
mot very satisfactory correspondent,
you know. What did you do at the
farm?' 5s,4 n 5siY (. 4 "a
Il walked, and rode horseback, as
usual, ;" she replied. There was time
for. once for me to learn to know my
self; to commune with my inner con-
seriousness. I read Swinburne. Do
you; know, I think his aura must have
been blue, like mine 2? 49,, = +
Sam Hill helped himself to q fifth
jam sandwich before replying. I'd.
THAT must have been great; espe-
scially the riding" he exclaimed. ""And
that reminds me. Iris, there is won
derful horse at the Winter garden.
I'll take seats for tomorrow, If you
say SO. You'll like it. I'm sure. There
are some bully acrobats, too"
I With the air Of tragedy queen
Miss Vanderpool arose and swept to
the center Of the room, her gray gown
coiling about her feet like, clouds of
smoke. Very young she looked, and
quite like a child dressed up and act
ing play. But, to her own mind, she
was a woman hurt In her sensitive
SOUL. Withal, she had certain dig
nifty despite her youth, consequent,
perhaps, on the position which had
been hers since the death of the
mother she could scarcely remember.
why, what on earth is the matter?"
cried Hill, admiring her immensely,
2unspeakably. ~ .r II =
Natter" she cried tragically; you
ask me that? tell you that my soul
is hungry-starved! and you retort
with an invitation to a music-hall!
It is unthinkable! How can you? You
have no sympathy, no understanding.
I hate you. There!"
!; She turned from him abruptly.
4 "Iris!" he cried, springing to her
side and putting his arm about her.
"You must not say such things, you
silly child. When leave my work l
want to play-just to play like child
and a trained horse amuses me;
frankly and truly, I do like it. You
hardly ever laugh for sheer merri-
ment. It's most neurotic, I'm darned
if it isn't!"
I'm not a silly child" cried Iris
holly, Olsen gaging herself from his
embrace. HTm not neurotic! MY
soul is torn .r.
ooh, marry me right away, and let
your soul go hang!" exclaimed Hill
"All you need Is taste Of life! Hon
estly l understand about this feeling
Of yours, dear. Believe me, work and
living in earnest are the answers and
the cure"
You don't understand" she cried;
every word you utter makes that
palmer. You never have any great
emotional experiences-at least, that
i can see-and SO, of course, you can't
recognize them as real in others. You
may be an artist on canvas, but you
rare not an artist Of life, and that Is
far more Important! I suppose you
will go on leading your ordered exist
ence forever. I shall stifle If l have
to share it! And thought you were
a romantic figure. Why, you work as
regularly as any business man, and
as hard!"
"A curious complaint" said he, the
half-smile dying upon his lips. you
know little, dear, OF life, or you would