The Oakley herald. [volume] (Oakley, Idaho) 1908-1961, 1918-02-15
HER KIND
BY AGNES G. BROGAN.
(CopyrEht. 1917. Western Newspaper Union. }

adulation attendant upon fame and |
fortune. Presently, he acknowledged, |
the call would come to him to go back,
but he would now linger longer In the
perfect freedom this unfrequented
Lakeshore resort afforded.
Most of the regular cottagers had
returned to their homes, the distant
boarding place he had chosen was
free from interruption; it was unlikely
that the distinguished features of the
miniature artist would here be recog-
nized. Fishing, at first entered into
with zest, now lost its charm, Morey
took to long walks upon the beach.
1t was during one Of these strolls that
he came upon girls camp, with the
name Of well-known city factory
above its door. The fair workers out
for their vacation were evidently thor
oughly enjoying the change. Much
like the favored girls whose society
the artist had always known, were
these bright-faced creatures taking
their morning dip In the lake, or cook
| ing things over beach camp fire. One
face especially attracted his attention,
several times he had met the girl upon
return trip from the village. In her
short skirt and MILDLY blouse she was
childishly attractive.
Each time he saw the girl he became
more eagerly DESTROYS Of knowing her.
After all-in this place so free from
Internationally not pass the time
with diverting Irritation? The wom-
en- at home had become of tiresome
sameness, here one might find interest
ing variety. So Morey approached one
day a jolly favorite dubbed by her
companions, Myrtle" and besought
Myrtle" for an Introduction to her
reserved friend.
"You want to meet Jane Gray?" the
girl responded, "sure, I'll introduce
you," and she did.
Jane Gray, swinging along down a
path, smiled when she was accosted
"Tm pleased to meet you, Mr.
Morey," she said simply.
If the artist had found the womeI
of his acquaintance of "tiresome same
ness" the feeling had not been recipro
Gated. Even in his indifference he hat
possessed for them a fascination, 81
now where Lawrence Morey was TO
once in his life eagerly DESTROYS o
pleasing, 1t was not strange that h
should succeed. Jane Gray at frs
apparently diffident, yielded to his az
knowledged charm and few hours G
the day found the two apart. Their
were so many beautiful walks to b
taken, rides through the early autumn
in the artists car-enchanted moonl
. evenings the two seated in silent con
partnership, just beyond the laughir
circle about the beach fire.
Morey did not talk to the other girl
this one little dark-eyed, soft-voice
creature claimed his every though
Alone with his pipe, he fretted uncon
fortably, that where he had intende
this to be but a pleasant Irritation, tn
girl out of his world, had so complies
ly enthralled him, When the acquaIn
ance would be ended as abruptly as
began, would he still know this col
slant yearning for her presence?
his apprehension came joyous rea
ization of love returned. Could it b
love at last-upon his part? This h
must know though he cast it frol
him.
The opportunity came upon the nigh
before his secretly planned departure
she was irresistibly appealing, as the
stood alone at dusk, her appraised eye
showing In the moonlight with sol
of radiance. Lawrence Morey kisse
her-kissed her, and hen he knew
chung to him.
81 love YOU" he whispered tensel
The girl sighed.
at seems too good--to be true" sh
said-"you and / meeting here an
through this ehance-a future life {
happiness. | will confess now, tn;
/ knew all along, who you were
else | should not have been so frien'
ly. Though wealth and fame could NJ
influence my love, that-just had
come"
Then, feeling the while like a brut
Morey told her. ut was all a mistak
He must go back. Loving her, still
might not make her his wife. The
was his aristocratic family to thir
of, his career. One might pirate
marriage for love, alone, but after a
there could be but one satisfactol
union for him-marriage with one
I his kind"
:, Pale, wide-eyed little Jane Gray lis
I ened, then dumbly silent moved ava
During the business hours at Il
q studio, he could not Danish her fro
+ his thoughts. Girls like that som
I times made way with themselves" al
< he wondered.
= Bursting in on his troubled refle
tons, one wintry afternoon, came h
e sister, "Such luck, Lawrence" 81
began, "Tm bringing up millionair
n ess to see you. She's going to be 9
l. the rage here this winter and if "
t can get her portrait, you'll be the raj
s too. Daughter of the Gray Manufa