The Dillon herald. [volume] (Dillon, S.C.) 1894-????, 1919-04-24

She Would NOT LOOK AZ Him feI
compelled her will, stultifed her
speech. She had something to say
first.
ave don't know each other; that is,
you don't know mel"
"Is that all% There was relief In
his voice.. II don't know your Haven't
/ seen you day by day? Haven't /
seen your self-control tried, proved
haven't seen your justice, when you
could not understand Look at me"
She shook her head, her eyes on the
sand under her feet. He could scarce
ly catch her words. They did not
know each other. He did not know
herl
Dear! I don't know whether you
love red or blue, that's fact; Ibsen
or Rostand; heat or cold. Does that
n.atter2 I know your
An upward glance had caught him
smiling. Her speech was routed. I'm
-the-only girl herep
"Do you think that's why I love
your -,
"Ah, but you loved GertyI" That
slipped from her. She had not meant
to say that! .4
"Does that hurt?" Abashed by her
own daring, yet she was glad she had
dared. She wanted him to deny 1t.
For he would deny It? She wondered
If he. were angry, but she could not
look at him. sir.
The minutes, dragging like weighted
hours, told her that he was not going
to answer her. It came to her then
that she would never know whether
Gerty's story were wholly false, or
partly true. She knew, then, that no
wheedllng, wife's or sweethearts,
would tease that story from him. It
did not belong to him. i
His silence frightened her into ar
ticulateness. He must not think that
she was foolish 1t was not that, In
Itself, she meant. The words jostled
one another in their soft swift rush.
He-he had made mistake once be-
fore. He had liked the sort Of woman
he had thought Gerty was. She her
self was not like the real Gerty any
more than she was like the other, the
woman that did not exist. He would
find that they did not think alike, be-
lieve alike, that there were differ
ences-
aren't you making something out
Of nothing, Innes?"
That voice could always chide her
into silence! Her speech lay cluttered
In ruins, her words like useless broken
bricks falling from the wall she was
building.
He took her hand and led her to a
pile of rock the river had not eaten.
he pulled her down beside him.
"Isn't 1t true. with us?"
"It is, with me-" breathed Innes.
Their voices were low as though they
were in church.
"And you think is isn't, with me- I"
Rlckard stood before her. "Is 1t be-
cause I trust you, wonder2 That I,
loving you, love to have the others
love you, too? Don't you suppose !
know how 1t is with the rest Mac
Lean; how it was with Estrada?
Should I be jealousf Why, I'm not.
I'm proudl Isn't that because I know
you, know the fine steady heart Of
you? You hated me at first-and am
proud Of that. I don't love you
enough2" He knelt at her feet, not
listening to her pleading. He bent
down and kissed one foot; then tho
other. II love them!" The face he
raised to her Innes had never seen be-
fore. He pressed a kiss against her
knee. "That, too! It's mine. I've not
s: a my prayers since I was boy. !
shall say them again, here, you teach
ing me-" His kisses ran up her arm,
from the tips of her limp fingers. His
mouth, close to hers, stopped there.
He whispered:
"You-klss me, my grill"
Slowly, unseeingly, as though drawn
by an external will, her face raised to
his; slowly, their lips met. His arms
were around her; the world was blot
ted out.
Innes, minutes later, put her mouth
against his ear. 1t was the Innes he
did not know, that he had seen with
others, mischievous, whimsical, romp-
ing as q young boy.
"I Lowered" she whispered. "And
heat and sunshine. But love blue,
on you; and cold, if it were with you
and the rest of the differences
He caught her to him. There are
not going to be any differences"