Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1915-12-13
THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER

, called the next evening it amused her
TO tell him that she was going to trans
| fer herself to Crawford s-just to see
what he would say and to amuse him.
Her trifiing joke brought drama down
on her head
Asaph turned pale, guped:
You're going to leave me, Deborah!
Why II couldn't get along without you.
Jim Crawford's in love with you, the old
scoundrcl But I got n nicer house than
what he has for you to live in, too.
There's tho Children, of course: but you
Ike children. They'd love YOU They
| need motherinG something awful been
meaning to ask YOU to marry me, but
| thousht / ought to wait about thirty days
more. But l couldn't let you go. You
won't, will you? I want you should marry
me You WILL won't you?'
Deborah stared at him agape She had
often wondered what she would say If
the impossible should happen and a man
should ask for her hand. And now it
mad come in the unlikeliest way, and
what she said was:
"Sakes alive, Ase one Of us must be
crazy"
But he was in panic and he beseged
and besought till she told him she would
| think It over" The sensation was too
delicious to be finished with an immedi-
ate monosyllable. lie went away buster
ing. Her mother had slept through the
cataclysm, Deborah postponed telling
her and went to her room in a state of
ecstatic distress.
Deborah was experiencing the raptur-
Gus terror that assalls young brides, the
dread OF the profoundest revolution In
woman's life. only in her case the ter
ror was the greater from the double du-
ration of her maidenhood. She was still
girl and yet gray was in her hair.
The thought of marriage was almost
intolerably fearful, and yet 1t was almost
intolerahly beautiful.
How wonderful that she should he
asked to marry the ideal of her youth
She could have a husband, "A home and
children of various ages, from the little
tot to the grown-ups. She had given up
hope of having babies of her own, but
she could acquire these ready-made All
her stitled domestic instincts famed at
the new empire offered her
And then she remembered Josie and
Josie's sneor: Poor old Debby. She never
was n rose"
And now Josie was dead year and
more, and Josies children and Josie's
lover were submitted to her to take or TO
leave. What a revenge it would be; what
a suuaring of old accounts! How she
would turn the laugh back on them! How
well she could laugh who waited to the
last!
Then she shook her head. What had
she to do with revenge? We can all deal
sharply with our friends, but we must be
magnanimous with our foes.
Deborah waited to announce her de-
cson till Asaph should call again. Then
she told him what she had decided. but
not why. He suspected every other rea-
son except the truth, He was always
quick, hard fighter, and now Deborah had
to endure what Josie had to endure all
her life. He denounced her, threatened
her. Cajolcd her, pleaded with her; but
Joses ghost Chaperoned the two, forbade
the banns.
The next day in the store Asaph looked
wretched. Deborah grew the more de-
sirable for her denial. He had thought
that he had but to ask her; and now she
had refused his beseechng. He paused
before her counter and begged her to re-
consider.
He called at her home every evening.
He went to her mother and implored her
aid The poor old soul could hardly be-
lieve her ears when she heard that De-
borah was not only desired, but difficult.
She promised Asaph that Deborah should
Weld, and he went away happy.
There was a weird conflict in the for
saKen house that night. The old pictures
nearly fell off the walls at the sight Of
the stupeiicd mother trying to compel
that lifelong virgin to the altar. Mrs.
Iarrabee pointed out that there would
never be another chance. The A. G. and
st. =. Railway was in the receivers
hands. They would starve If Deborah
lost ner job.
Deborahs only answer was that she
would go to Crawfords. Her mother
could not shake her decision and hobbled
off to bed in senile dismay. She had al
ways been asking what the world was
coming to, and now it was there.
CONTINUED TOMORROWD