Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1918-07-12

Rosemary was happy at the camp.
She was girl Of the open, and aban-
doned herself intellectually to the
JOY of mountain climbing, fishing and
riding along pleasant country byways.
She developed an innocent camarad-
erie with the man almost too naive to
please him. Nevertheless the day be-
fore her return he put his position
with her to the test. The girl listened
to him quietly.
"Oh" she cried remorsefully, ~
have just been thinking of you as a
good comrade. Let me wait till 1 am
home and away from you. Then maybe
I'll know. I'll write you-tomorrow
night"
The man knew that her womanhood
was at last awake in her and that she
would decide, but how he dared not
think.
The next day Rosemary went home.
She felt strangely old and troubled.
She dreaded writing to Rodney that
evening, for she did not yet know how
she should write. Finally she went to
the woods to think out her problem.
She followed unconsciously a familiar
fragrance. Soon, in damp corner
she found the source of the sweet odor
she had never before associated with
this place. Fringed gentians were
there, dozens of them, holding up their
glorious heads bravely in the rich,
damp, new SOIL In flash she under
stood. Lester had transplanted them
for her. She threw herself on the
ground and buried her face in their
sweetness. Then she laughed. Under
one of the plants lay little red-bound
bOOk-Lester's notebook. Nobody in
the whole countryside but Rosemary
knew that Lester earned his living in
the winter playing in the symphony or
chestra in the city, and found his Joy
writing nature poetry summers In the
intervals of grubbing on his fathers
old farm. A relieved smile was crop
ping about the corners of Rosemary's
troubled mouth. She would take Les
ter his book and ask him to help her
settle the question she could not settle
for herself. Lester had been, in truth,
her refuge from many perplexities all
her life. She ran down the lane and
across the road to the pasture. She
knew just where she would find Les
ter. He would be pretending to spade
a In no Hot
berry bog. In reality he would be
spinning a scrap Of verse In his busy
brain. She smiled whimsically to her
self as she remembered the fun her
friends were always poking at this
would-be farmer son of their old asso-
ciate, Squire Fordham. They thought
of him as a hack-musician who pieced
out precarious income on the old
farm. Nobody dreamed that he played
the countryman in summer for very
love of the near-tO-nature life. Rose
mary had not even told Rodney the
truth about him. She resolved to take
Rodney to one Of Testers concerts the
next winter. How amazed he would
be!
And then suddenly In the midst Of
her musings, Rosemary stood still In
the rocky path. If she married Rod
ney, her newly awakened womanhood
told her, her old comradeship with Les
ter would be impossible. And after
all, could Rodney DuQuesne possibly
mean as much to her as this dear fell
lowship? She sat down in the path
and buried her face In her hands. She
began to realize what her old COM
rade meant to her, had meant all her
life, and must mean all the
rest Of her days If she were to be
happy.
If-and then she knew she could
never ask him the question she had
meant to. She did not mean to, In
truth. 1t had answered itself. Pres
emily some one came stamping up
the rocky way.
"Bless usl What's all this?"
stormed an amazed voice. She was
conscious that Lester Fordham was
bending over her. "See here" he was
demanding. "What Is the matter1
Why didn't you call me? You knew
I'd hear. Are you hurt?"
Rosemary caught his hand and
pulled herself to her feet. "Here,"
she laughed, "here is your little red
book. was bringing 1t to you when
I thought" she hesitated.
Thought what?" prompted Lester,
puzzled.
Thought what?" he repeated, as
Rosemary stood tongue-tied, blushing.
II thought" she stammered, vino
ing beneath the mans insistent gaze,
"how perfectly awful-it would be-if
I were going to marry Rodney Du-
Quesnew
Lester Fordham caught her gently
by her downcast chin and uptilted her
face till her honest, brown eyes looked
into his.
Rosemary Damarel, tell me the
truth, would 1t be perfectly awful-if
you were going to marry me?"
you'll have to find that out for
yourself challenged the girl, her as