Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1915-06-30
IN A DRIzzLING Rain
By HOPE AlNsLEE.
light, 1915, by the Mcclure Newspa-
per Syndicate.)

to come out and get wet. And tht
roses were fast appearing as SHE
walked briskly through the damn
cinder path in Central park.
It was Saturday afternoon and Con
stance had promised herself that sht
would finish knitting the last of hel
six pairs Of socks for the soldier boys
before the Wednesday boat should
have sailed. Her small brother anG
sister, being prevented by the rair
from playing out of doors, would de
mand the attention of Sister Con
stance If she were at home There
fore she decided to seek the shelter OF
summer house In the park, where
on day like this she was sure to
be alone.
A beautiful girl sitting alone in a
summer house on a cold, drizzling
day knitting socks is not an every.
day picture. Indeed it was such an
unusual sight to Donald Grey when
he came upon it that he almost
stopped in his course to stare.
Constance looked up casually as he
passed and her calm, level gaze met
his; then she dropped her eyes, con.
tinued her knitting and the man
strode on through the winding path.
But the mans peace of mind had
been disturbed. Only his deep-rootea
sense Of chivalry kept him from re-
tracing his steps for one more look
at the lovely girl. He realized that
he had only slender chance in a
thousand of seeing her again, and
yet at that moment he could think Of
no other person whom he so desired
to see again-and often.
Suddenly his musings were abrupt
ly interrupted by the approach Of a
big Irish park policeman leading a
small child reluctantly by the hand.
The officer had to stoop to keep a
hold of the tiny tot.
Gotta lest kid" he said laughing
ly to Donald.
Donald looked at the pretty it,
girl. "Fine day for youngster like
that to be al.yn6 In the park, isn't ite"
fine for the pneumony. Says her
mas knittfA' and she run off," volun.
teered the policeman further.
DoAan Grey paled little. "Knit.
ting, did you say? Her-her moth.
err
"sure! Why not? Amt they ali
a-doin' it day an night for Tommy
Atkins and the loike O. him." asked
the officer.
'I saw a young woman back IN, the
summer house-a-knitting," said aa.
aid.
Where" asked the policeman,
alertly.
"I'll show you-it's quicker" and
Donald led the way back to the sum-
mer house.
The little one trotted beside the
big policeman and Donald, hummins
gayly. She seemed not to care who
her protectors were, so long as she
was having a little excitement Don
aid could see that much in the tots
eyes.
When she saw the trio approaching
Constance stopped knitting and
stared. But Donald could see at a
glance that she had not lost any
body's baby. She looked from one to
the other as the three drew close.
"Askin' yer pardon, lady. but did
ye lose this kid?" asked the police
man.
Constance laughed. She shook her
head. mo, indeed, didn't Is the
poor baby lost?"
"She sure Essays her mas a-knit-
tin and she run away"
MAS doin' that" said the child
gayly, pointing to Constance and her
'Is she, dear?" asked Constance
and Donald realized that she had the
voice, too, of his ideal. "And where
did you leave your mamma"
The child made a vague gesture.
"Over home with lots o. ladies all
knittin' and"
The policeman took the child again
by the hand. Come on, kid, you'll
catch cold out here. I'll find her ma
all right. Much obliged" And the big
policeman and the little one walked
off in the drizzling rain.
Donald Grey raised his hat, "rm
sorry"
"oh, it was quite NATURAL f'm Sure
Don't apologize. I only hope they
find the baby's mother soon. It's not
a day for little ones to be out."
The girls tone dismissed him and
Donald strobe on. This time he felt
desperate. If he had wanted to know
her after single glance at her, he
longed more than ever now that he
had seen her smile, and heard her
speak, had stood before her.
He would have felt utterly hope
less if he had not been a firm be-
lever in the good Presbyterianism
that everything that happens is for
the best. If this was the way he was