Gilpin observer., 1915-03-04

wealthy man, yielding to the liquor
habit, OF his gradual downfall. till he
took to abusing her and her mother,
and how, to save her mother from his
ill-treatment and to give her home.
she had married Jim Davis, not loving
him, but hoping that love would come
afterward. Hers had been the fault,
she cried But If he had loved her.
how eagerly her heart would have
turned to him.
And Austin told her of the prim lit
tie New England village in which his
father ruled IS the local magnate; Of
the pretty girl whom he had taken
riding in his automobile against her
parents wishes, of the breakdown,
miles from home, on stormy night,
and the enforced sojourn at the inn
there; of the return next day, when
his companion was cast off by her
parents, and how he had married her,
as he felt in honor bound to do. But
he said nothing Of the calculating old
man who had seen in the mishap the
chance to marry his daughter to the
son OF old Squire Austin. nor oi what
he had discovered subsequently. that
the woman who had became his wife
had deliberately planned the stormy
interview with her parents In the few
moments before he himself saw them,
in order to gain wealthy husband.
He said nothing of this, but in his
heart he knew that all he had suffered
since had shown his wife's unworthi-
ness. Had love inspired the trick he
might have forgiven her. but since
their marriage his life had been unrc-
pathy. Of companionship.
He ended, and he saw that Marcia
was looking at him with eyes of pity.
This strange and new-found sympathy
was inexpressibly dear 20 him. Just
such woman he tried to check
his thoughts in vain just such
woman should have been his.
But there was more than sympathy
in Marcia's eeys. They could resist
that sudden and overpowering love no
more than they could resist fate. Only
second of hesitation and Marcia lay
in his arms and felt his lips on hers.
That was no marriage, dear" he
whispered
Nor yours" he heard her breathe.
Il have been looking for you all my
life, think" John Austin said
"And II have met you now and
know that, too," said Marcia.
And now that we have found each
other, must it end. dear? Must this
be all?"
He felt rather than saw her lips
frame the word mo-" He opened the
little bag she carried and took out her
ticket and, tearing it to pieces,
watched the wind bear then. away.
So all their past might 60 OF the fu-
ture he thought nothing; there was no
need to think when past and future
merged in this ineffable present.
1t might have been a minute or an
eternity before John Austin looked at
his watch. Three-quarters of an hour
had gone. Fifteen minutes alone re-
mained of their wonderful hour.
You will come with me?" he asked.
He read the answer in her eyes. He
kissed her again; they arose and. hand
in hand. roamed happily in the direc-
tion of the station, taking, not the
road. but path over a field In which
the corn, ready for cutting. waved
breast high upon either side
AS they strolled toward the station
two children. a little boy and girl,
came running toward them, pelting
each other with flowers. Suddenly the
girl fell. and the boy stumbled over
her and lay in the dust at Austin s
feet.
Marcia picked up the little girl and
began to brush the dust from her