The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1915-05-29
CHAPTER VIII.
The Lovers, Meeting.

The Lovers Meeting.
 f UCENE was in an evening gown |
 of a white f1Iminess that re- i vea1ed with modest truth the |
 -A gracious lines of the slender, Hssome form A deeper rose blossom | sd warmly in her cheeks, the tender bow of the lips was slightly parted to q tremulous smile of rapture. On the man, too, a spell was laid, like unto hers, yet unlike, for where she knew him in the first instant his memory did not stir as yet, though the exqui- site charm of her there thrilled him with 1ongfngs new and masterful. The voluminous voice of B1ount, malz- ing the introductions, freed the twain, in part at least, from the enchant- menf fallen upon them
 Wainwright managed artfully to be beside the girl as the general exodus was begun. He was filled with an un- reasoning indignation that wholly ob- seured his sense of humor as he heard the dialogue between DrS Forbes and Mrs. Blount as they passed on their way toward the door. ''Your daughter is a dainty creature, Mrs. Blount," the physician was say ing with enthusiasm.
 Mrs. Blount swept an approving look 1 '.Yes. All our family are just like that"
 Really, the woman is indecentr' was Wainwright's angry thought.
 ''Come on, Cortland,'' Forbes called over his shoulder as he reached the doorway Wainwright turned again to the girl beside him. The others were all out of the room now, and she looked up at him with a little smile, so &istful that it set his pulses bounding in wild longing to comfort her-why, for what he knew not.
 ''Shallsowe go nowT she asked tim idly.
 Yes-no-that is, wait, just mo- ment.'' Then, as she faced him with a certain shrinking bravery born of long yearning; their eyes met and held in a lingering look that stirred each to mans memory stirred and leaped to life.
 Amazement crept into the lines of his face, and awe glowed in his pierc- ing expression. The girl stood rigid, pale from stress, waiting patiently of body, with an infinite innpatience of the heart.
 1T can't be mistaken Vain wright murmured. His voice grew Hrmer, vibrant with conviction, SubCly caressing: Surely it's the same little girl. Oh,' surely it's my little savior of the Chicago street, isn't it? Tell me! But-I knowp' The final words rang triumphantly, though uttered so softly. i The girls words came falteringly, for her heart raced with happiness.
 ''Then you-you remember me?' ImpulsiveIy Wainwright put out his hands. With equal impulsiveness Lu- .cene laid her slim fingers within his warm clasp.
 ''Remember you?'' he cried, with a laugh of sheer Joy. "Well, yes, think do."
 The words sounded melody of bliss 1 in the depths of the girls being.
 "After all these years!" she breathed The rigidity of her pose relaxed.
 ''Yes, after all these years,' he hal1 whispered. "It is wonderful wonder fulT''
 ''Yes,'' she agreed simply, nor dared to lift her eyes to meet the warm re gard that reached to her heart Mot wonderful that should remem F Der you," the man explained namely , quite unaware of his words in contem < plation of her 1ovenness. 'Only won 2 derfu1 that we should at last mee 5 again like this.''
 l, She spoke sedately enough, thougI t with happy quaver in the music O her voice.
 f .sThey win be waiting. We must go' Gro Be Continued.) : FUNERAL DESIGNS AND
 RnTrOTTHuC