The St. Charles herald. [volume] (Hahnville, La.) 1873-1993, 1918-11-23


| Copyright, 1918, by the Mcclure Newspa
per Syndicate)
NO." Dawn said, with regret and
finality equally blended with love in
her voice, II love you as much as
am capable Of loving any man, but you
have not the right to ask me to give
up my friends. 1t is far better that
we consider ourselves free"
Harry harrington looked back at
Dawn with pain in his eyes. A pain
that was perhaps mixed with too
great darkness Of jealousy. He looked
all that a man should be in his khaki
uniform, end he was sailing away to
fight for Americas liberty.
He glanced about the cool, home
like studio that was Dawn's home and
realized that when he was in the
trenches fighting, his sweetheart would
be entertaining other men-that she
would be sitting down at the little ta-
BILE dining tete-a-tete over q Dawn
cooked chicken or rarebit and Civ
ing her smiles and her rare glances
to some one else.
"You know, dear" he replied, trying
to persuade her to his viewpoint, ut is
not only jealousy-and Lord knows /
am that-but it is just common sense
I'm talking. Here you will be while
am away, and though you may be col
iaborating on stories and working your
brain to tatters with Dicky Vane or
Ralph Reed, you are still Dawn Con-
ner, and therefore will be tempting
both yourself and the other fellow.
You can't help flirting" he added.
Dawn blushed, but her eyes were
steady and enveloped Captain Barring
ton with a glance that should have
told him that she was true as steel,
with all her flirting.
'Im sorry" she said, "but women
have gone far past the time when
they will give up all interests and all
men friends for the one man whom
they marry. My writing is as great
a part Of my life as marrying will be
my men friends with whom l col
laborate and work in this studio are
dear and sincere friends and another
big part Of my life and happiness.
II you cannot be generous enough to
let me have my life and fulfill my
ambitions Just as you do your own,
then, dear-we must not marry"
But, Dawn-I love you'll"
"And I love you," she said INSTEAD
lily. "but have I ever asked you to
stop having your lovely stenographers
in your private room for dictation-"
"That is In business" he put in
quickly.
"And so is mine business" Dawn
stated, 'but even If my men friends
were not working with me, should
still expect to be here and entertaining
them in my studio. I want to be
trusted by the man who loves me SUI
ficiently to let me lead my life accord
ing to my own nature" She very
gently slipped the ring from her en-
gagement finger. 81 am firm in my
philosophy in love and marriage" she
said with swift, If unsteady, little
laugh.
harrington gazed long and earnestly
ut Dawn as he took the ring from her
extended hand. Her beautiful satiny
arm was as white as the lilies and her
shoulders nodded for the sheer beauty
Of art.
Darlington took her in his arms.
Eou don't love me, Dawn" he told
her sadly; "you are perhaps not capa-
BILE Of loving"
IT can't be the slave Of love, If that
Is what you mean," Dawn told him,
and she put her lovely arms up about
his neck and held him close to her.
"Please try to remember, dear, that I
love you more than any other woman
ever will, but my men friends would
be constant source of unhappiness
to you, and in the end to me-"
II am sorry have disappointed you,
Dawn. Life would have been a very
beautiful experience with you at my
side. There will never be another
woman either in my heart or at my
hearthstone."
When he had gone Dawn gave way
to tears, but after that she braced up,
began to readjust her life and tried
not to think of the void that Barring
toms going had left.
She was neither the clinging vine
variety Of womanhood nor yet the in
dependent. masculine type. Dawn
was merely good specimen Of femi-
nine beauty and brains combined. She
loved Captain harrington as weak
er nature could never hope to love.
There were both depth and breadth
to her affection and complete trust.
Dawn continued her writing and she
made no change in her manner Of liv-
ing. When Dicky Vane came up and
their work carried them into the noon
or evening hours, Dawn's chatting dish
was brought out and savory meals
Then the typewriter clicked
while rabbit stewed. Dawn and her
collaborators turned out much that
was worth while in the literary world.
If on rare occasions Dawn was
brought face to face with the nature
Of man under trying circumstances,
she blamed herself and not the man.