The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1914-01-17
ALWAYS SUCH CHUMS
BY NEWTON BUNeEY.

a blossom-laden chestnut tree when
Mary Lidiard crossed the lawn, swing.
ing a putter in her right hand.
Through his half-closed eyes Hewitt
gazed at her critically, and he could
not help admitting that she made the
fairest of pictures. The breeze caught
her curls, and with the sunlight turn.
ed them into a shimmering sea of
gold A simple, well-cut gown of some
soft. white material showed the grace
of her figure as she walked. Her eyes
shone with an unmistakable light as
their gaze fell on Hewitt.
Z Tell me again that you love me,
Denis," she whispered.
II love you, DEAR" he answered.
Il shall always be hearing you say
that" she said in low tones later as
she turned to 60 into the house to
pack for a few days visit at
friends house. You'll write to me
often, won't you. Denis?"
Hewitt WINGED as though he had
been stabbed. Several times he had
thought that while she was away he
would write and tell her the truth
that he did not love her But he was
too much of a coward to tell her to
her face and see those deep blue
eyes grow heavy with misery.
Somehow it seemed quite a natural
thing for man to love woman and
she not to love him, but for a woman
to love a man who did not care in
the same way for her-it seemed
nothing short of brutal
At length In one of her letters
Mary wrote the following paragraph:
Il can't help thinking. Denis. that
your letters seem as though they are
written with an effort, and it makes
me fear that what have thought be-
fore Is really true. 1t seems dread
full to doubt you, dear, but 1t would
be more dreadful to let matters reach
an irrevocable stage and then to
doubt.
I'VE have always been chums,
Denis, and now we are promised for
something deeper than friendship.
Can you say from the bottom of your
heart that this is what you desire?
Perhaps I am wrong in doubling
you; but II am not. oh, please do not
hesitate to say so. Don't think you
will be doing the right and honorable
thing by masking your real feelings"
How had she guessed? He had tried
SO hard to be all he was supposed to
be.
He wanted her, and yet there was
something missing. and she had rec
ognized it.
He felt so ashamed of himself, 80
ignominous. He would have given the
world to have been able to answer
Mary's letter as a true lover would
have done, but instead he wrote:
You we're right to doubt me, Mary.
There is no woman on earth | care
for like you, but it is not the love a
man should feel for his future wife.
1t is cowardly to fly to excuses, but
shall always feel that our parents
were responsible-they rushed US in.
to the engagement.
What will you think of me, Mary
We have always been such chums
and now / am refusing the best gift
that the world could give me. II
makes me feel e. mean and con
tempible, dear: but. as you say, 1t will
be better to sever while we have the
| chance.
Il don't suppose you will see me
| again for long time. ! shall &c
away somewhere don't care where
but feel that want to hide"
He walked down to the village post
office and posted the letter himself
Then he turned away and walked
slowly down a lane, his head bent II
thought. trying to picture the future
without Mary.
He slept badly that night for think
ing of Mary. He began to feel that
though they were not to be husband
and wife, he did not want to lose her
Next morning he thought of he
reading the letter, and he felt h,
would have given anything had h
not written it or been able to regain
possession Of it ere 1t reached he
hands.
His thoughts were interrupted b.
the arrival of a servant with tele
gram. Tearing It open. q groan brok
from his lips as he read:
Come at once. Mary iii.
"LIDIARD."
And in that moment Denis Hewitt
knew he loved Mary, and FASTENED Il
her bedside.
He seemed to wait an eternity out
side the door of the room. He did no
see the nurse who watched him cur
ously, and he scarcely saw Mr.. an
Mrs. Lidiard as they came out of tn
room.
Then he entered, his gaze rivete
on the thin, white face framed In
mass of golden hair.
Mary" he said huskily; "of