The Watertown news. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1917-1919, 1917-09-12
LIFTS THE SHADOW
BY DOROTHY BLAcKMoRE.

A-N~NNAANNNNN
Lorna gazed pensively out over the
vast gardens that surrounded her ia
theirs mansion. Neither artistic en-
deavor nor money had been spared in
making the place one of exquisite
beauty.
But Lorna's eyes were Swallowed
and her lips petulant.
II might just as well never have
been born" she often told herself.
Mamma and papa would have been
spared much trouble if I had been left
out of the world"
In this last thought Lorna was right.
She had been the cause Of anxiety and
worry to her parents. They had done
everything to make her happy. But
they had failed to soften the steadily
darkening shadows in Lorna's eyes.
Nothing in the world seemed to suit
her, because she was satisfied with
nothing that had the minutest imper-
lection in it.
At times she gave way to fits Of
weeping. Now she had begun to weep
softly as she sat on the fallen tree
trunk In the forest of her fathers es-
tate.
A young man came whistling
through the woods. He stopped and
listened; he heard her sob. Lorna
then looked up without attempting to
hide her tears.
"Wh-what's the matter?" asked
Bobby Lake of the stranger sympa-
thetically.
Lorna flashed a glance at him
through the tears. Everything! she
said, wrathfully.
Bobby looked wise and nodded. The
sympathy had left his expression and
instead a suppressed smile lurked in
and thought it brutal.
81 am very unhappy person." she
said
"Love AFFAIR." Bobby said, sagely.
"No! Certainly not" Lorna retorted.
ga pain, perhaps from eating green
apples?" Bobby ventured.
81 haven't even seen a green apple.
I am just unhappy" Lorna said pen
sively. 81 can't find anything perfect.
find something to criticize in every
one and everything
yourself included, HOPPER Bobby
suggested. 81 suppose you realize that
! you are little chump to sit on a fallen
tree bawling for nothing at all?'
Before Lorna could retort, Bobby
Lake had turned on his heel and left
her.
The next day when she was In the
garden she tried to tell herself that she
was not constantly on the alert for a
sight Of the strange and impertinent
young man. When she heard his whis-
| tie she felt her pulse quicken.
'Has your disposition improved?" he
asked, without preamble.
"My disposition is as good as your
| manners" Lorna retorted.
81 doubt even that" Bobby said.
"And what do you do with yourself
| besides sit out here and bawl?" he
| asked. "Wouldn't 1t be better for a
| young woman who seems to have so
much idle time to go about the village
| visiting the poor mothers and offering
them CHEEKY hours. Or, maybe, it would
suit you better to invite swarms of Or
phans to your lovely home-bring them
out her and tell them fairy stories?"
| Lorna bit her lip. IT have never
| thought of-those things" she admit
| ted.
"Of anything-but yourself, per-
haps," Bobby added. "You would be a
peculiar person if you were happy I'M
der those circumstances. 1 see now
why you weep. You are selfish; you
are sorry for yourself. You are tired
Of your own personality. You are so
wrapped up in yourself that you have
failed to see the beauty Of all this"
"You are rude" Lorna said. With
the words she turned and left him.
Day after day the two met in the
secluded corner Of the garden. Day
by day Lorna's parents saw the shad-
ows lifting from her eyes.
One day Bobby told Lorna that he
was going back to town. She looked
| as if she were ready to weep.
| "NOw-What'S the matter?" he asked.
| ''Where is the sunshine I have been
helping you to find?"
"You are taking it all with you," she
| said, choking over the words.
Bobby took her roughly in his arms.
II am going to town only long enough
| to sell some canvasses in order to have
| enough money to buy a ring or two.
Then I'm coming back to tell you I love
| you"
"TeH me now - Bobby" Lorna
begged. 'Tell me now. I don't de-
serve to hear such wonderful music,
but, oh-Tll promise to deserve all the
happiness you have shown me-"
| Copyright, 1917, by the Mcclure Newspa-
| per Syndicate)