The herald., 1915-01-14

udu
During the fortnight following ne
courted Madge with British determi-
nation. Before accepting Lord Dan
ver's invitation Madge had asked the
privilege OF solitude for an hour or
two a day that she might study up
her part for the forthcoming produc'
ton OF her new play.
You see-I am a slave to my dear
public-even when on holiday, she
had told Lord Giltroy. 81 must work
when you are all shooting grouse and
landing salmon. And you know so
little of me. l am deeply honored by
your love. but l feel that our paths
are SO different; they are so widely
separated that 1t would be difficult
to get the best out OF life under those
conditions"
Without knowing 1t, Madge swayed
slightly toward him. His arms went
swiftly about her and his lips covered
her own before she could stir.
81 will give you another fortnight
to think it over" he said. "You will
know then IL you love me-"
He let her go then. and Madge went
quickly to her room.
Having returned to her apartment
in town Madge became entirely occu-
pied with her new production. She
had decided when she first saw her
part that the little trunk full OF
clothes with which she had come to
Broadway from the country would
costume the role as no other clothes
would. The trunk was always with
her. It was the closest link with the
past and a treasured possession.
When Madge opened it to look over
It's contents she had not realized that
a tumult Of emotion would sweep
over her The longing to get back
to the cid farm brought tears to her
eyes, and when she picked up the old
pink sunbonnet that had chung to her
curly head through rain and through
shine Madge wept softly into its faded
depths.
mo, MOI" she told herself vehe-
mently, Il could not marry a titled
parsonage and tie myself down to con-
ventional city life" She gazed fondly
at her ginghams and quaint little
frilled petticoats and her Sunday hat
with the pond lilies on it. They
were admirably suited to her part in
the new play and Madge decided that
If the play was a success she would
play her season in London and fare
well in New York, then retire from
the stage.
She pulled down her masses of
auburn hair, dressed it in ringlets,
put the pink sunbonnet on and her
Sunday Bingham and viewed herself
In the mirror. Madge laughed with
delight. Assuredly she had gone back
to nature and she drew in a deep
breath in imagination seeming the ap-
pie blossoms.
So engrossed was she that she had
not heard the bell ring nor did she
know that her maid had admitted
Sir John Giltroy.
She turned suddenly and looked
AllO hio CyCo. no tOOh UOln
Of her hands in his own and surveyed
her from head to foot.
well. II / had known you when
you were wee girl like that you
would never have been crowned by
theatrical laurels and I would never
have been a baronet. I would have
married you and kept you out on the
farm with me-"
"You-not a baronet? How could
you help it?" Madge questioned the
while she realized that she must give
this man his way whether that way
led through town mansions or coun-
try lanes.
Il won my title" he said, simply.
ut is a degree of honor and not he
reditary. At heart I long for the
vastness Of country life. I am a
farmer by birth and a baronet by
endeavor." He drew Madge nearer to
him and looked fondly beneath the
sunbonnet. Il have come for my
answer, DEAR" he said.
MY answer" whispered Madge,
softly, "is-yes."