The Celina Democrat. (Celina, O. [Ohio]) 1895-1921, 1917-09-07
"What about lt?"

| PtNpiNh htlu llc pupeT OUT 10 MS
brother. John read few lines and
dashed II into corner OF the room.
There's this much about II, John"
Stephen continued. "The woman played
that part night nfter night-played 1t
to the life, mind you. She made her
reputation In II. That's the woman
we unltnOwlngly let sleep beneath this
roof! The barn is the place for her
and her sort I"
Johns clenched fists were held firm
ly to his sides. His eyes were blazing.
That's enough, Stephenw he cried.
mo, It's not enough ~ was the fierce
reply" 'The truths been burning in my
heart long enough. It's better out.
You want to find ner guest at Rayn-
ham castle, do yOu?-Itaynham castle,
where never decent woman crosses
the threshold If she goes there, she
goes Well?"
An anger that was almost paralyz-
Ing, sense Of the utter impotence of
words, drove John in silence from the
room. lie left the house by the back
door, passed quickly through the or
chard where the tangled moonlight lay
upon the ground in strange, fantastic
shadows; across the narrow strip of
field, field now Of golden stubble; up
the hill which looked down upon the
farm buildings and the churchyard.
He sat grimly down upon great
bowlder, filled with Il hateful sense of
unwreaked passion, yet with n sheer
thankfulness in his heart that he had
escaped the miasma of evil thoughts
which Stephens words seemed to have
created. The fancy seized him to face
these half-veiled suggestions of his
brother, so far as they concerned
himself and his life during the last
few months.
Stephen was right. This woman who
had dropped from the clouds for those
few brief hours had played strange
havoc with Johns thoughts and his
whole outlook upon life. The coming
of harvest, the care of his people, his
sports his cricket, the early days upon
the grouse moors, had all suddenly
lost their interest for him. Life had
become a task. The echo of her half
mocking, half-challenging words was
always in his ears.
He sat with his head resting upon
his hands, looking steadfastly across
the valley below. Almost at his feet
lay the little church with its grave
yard, the long line of stacks and barns,
the labOrers' cottages, the bailiffs |
house, the whole little colony around |
which his life seemed centered. The |
moonlight lay upon the ground |
almost like snow. He could see the
sheaves of wheat standing up in the
most distant of the cornfields. Beyond
was the dark gorge toward which he
had looked so many nights at this
hour.
Across the viaduct there came a
blaze of streaming light, a serpentlike
trail, family heard whistle-the Scot
tish express on it's way southwark
toward London. His eyes followed 1t
)ut of sight. He found himself think
ng of the passengers who would wake
he next morning in London. He felt
himself suddenly acutely conscious of
his isolation. Was there not something
almost monastic In the seclusiOn which
lad become a passion with Stephen,
md which had its grip. too, upon him
| waste of life, burying of talents?
He rose to his feet The half-formed
purpose Of weeks held him now, def
lite and secure. He knew that this Dill s
'rimage of his to the hilltop, his rapt
of the little panorama {
which had become so dear to him, was s
n sense valedictory. {
After all, two more months passed S
efore the end came, and 1t came then {
rithOut moments warning. 1t was |
little past midday when John drove |
lowly through the streets of Market {
letton in his high dogcart, exchanging c
alutatiOns right and left with the S
with farmers brought
lto town by the market, with ac- h
uaintanceS of all sorts and condi- S
ons. More than one young woman
rom the shop windows or the pave I
lents ventured to smile at him. and h
ne few greetings he received from the 0
ives and daughters of his neighbors t
ere as gracious as they could possibly G
e made. John almost smiled once, in "
le act of raising his hat, as he real W
ed how completely the whole charm ii
{ the world, for him, seemed to lie in o
ne woman's eyes. a
At the crOssways where he should
ave turned to the inn, he paused while Il
motorcar passed. 1t contained 81
oman, who was talking to her host. ii
he was not in the least like Lou er
e, and yet instinctively he knew that il
he was of the same world. The per- ly
ction of her white-serge costume, her b.
1t so smartly worn, the half-insolent
nile, the little gesture with which she %
Used her hand-something about her tt
llocked the floodgates. CT
Market KettOn had seemed well IL
lough a few minutes ago John had h,
1t healthy appetite for his midday Ii
cal, and certain interest concerning al
deal in barley upon which he was II