Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1916-07-20


He stopped and looked at her.
You boyp said Mary, not very
clearly.
"Oh, yes" he returned. "But it's
true-especially my knees"
"You boy" she murmured again,
blushing charmingly. "You might read
another line over. The first time
ever saw you. Bibbs, you were look
ing into mirror. Do it again. But
you needn't read it, can give 1t to
you: "A little Greek slave that came
from the heart of Arcadyv"
81! I'm one of the hands at the
Pump works-and going to stay one.
unless l have to decide to study
plumbing"
mo" She shook her head. "You
love and want what's beautiful and
delicate and serene; it's really art that
you want in your life, and have always
wanted. You seemed to me, from the
first, the most wistful person l had
ever known. and that's what you were
wistful for"
Bibbs looked doubtful and more
wistful than ever; but after a moment
or two the matter seemed to clarity
itself to him. why, no." he said; II
wanted something else more than that.
I wanted you"
"And here amr she laughed, COM
pletely understanding. II think we're
like those two In 1.-THE Cloister and
the Hearth" I'm just the rough Bur
gundian crossbow man, Dcnys, who
followed that gentle Gerard and told
everybody that the devil was dead"
HE isn't, though" said 2ibbs, as
hoarse little bell In the next room be-
gan a series of snappings which
proved to be ten, upon count "He
gets into the clock whenever I'm with
you" And. signing deeply. he rose
to go.
You're always very prompt about
leaving me-"
"There's one little time in the twenty
four hours when I'm not happy. It's
now, when have to say good night
But now's the bad time-and I must
go through 1t, and so-good night"
| And he added with pungent vehe-
mence of which he was little aware
II hate it"
do your she said, rising to go to
the door with him. But he stood mo-
tionless, gazing at her wonderingly.
"Mary! Your eyes are So" he
stopped.
"YesY But she looked quickly away.
81 don't know" he said. 81 thought
just then"
what did you think"
II don't know--it seemed to me that
there was something ! ought to under
Standard didn't"
She laughed and met his wondering
| gaze again frankly. my eyes are
pleased" she said. Pm glad that you
miss me little after you CO."
but tomorrow's coming faster than
other days, If you'll let it." he said.
she inclined her head. Yes. I'll
let it'r'
"Going to church." said Bibbs. ut is
going to church when go with your
She went to the front door with him;
she always went that far. They had
| formed little code of devastating
by habit, neither of them ever speak,
ing of 1t; but it was always the same
She always stood in the doorway until
he reached the sidewalk, and there he
always turned and locke back, and
she waved her hand to him. Then he
went on, halfway to TIE new house
and looked back again, and Mary was
not in the doorway, but the door was
open and the light shone. 1t was as
If she meant to tel him that she would
never shut him Oct; he could always
see that friendly light of the open
doorway--as If 1t were open for him to
come back, II he would. He could see
1t until wing of the new house came
between. when he went up the path
The open doorway seemed to him the
beautiful symbol of her friendship-of
her thought Of him; symbol of her
self and of her ineffable kindness.
And she kept the door open-even
tonight, though the sleet and fine snow
swept In upon her bare throat and
arms, and her brown hair was strewn
with tiny white stars. His heart
leaped as he turned and saw that she
was there, waving her hand to him, as
IL he did not know that the storm
touched her. When he had gone on,
Mary did as she always did-she went
into an unlit room across the hall from
that In which they had spent the eve
ming, and, looking from the window
watched him until he was out of sight
The storm made that difficult tonight
but she caught glimpse Of him under
the street lamp that stood between the
two houses, and saw that he turned to
look back again. Then, and not before
she looked at the upper windows OF
Roscoe's house across the street. They
were dark. Mary waited, but after
little while she closed the front door
and returned to her window. A
moment later two Of the upper win
dows of Roscoe's house flashed into
light and a hand lowered the shade OF
one of them. Mary felt the cold then
1T was the third night she had seen
those windows lighted and that shade
lowered, just after Bibbs had gone.
A stricken George, muttering hoarse.
ly, admitted him, and Bibbs became
aware of paroxysm within the house
Terrible sounds came from the IL
brary: Sheridan curslng as never be
fore; his wife sobblng, her voice rising
to an agonized squeal Of protest upon
each of series Of muffied detonations
the outrageous humping of band
aged hand upon wood; then Quincy
sharply imperious, Keep your hand