The Dillon herald. [volume] (Dillon, S.C.) 1894-????, 1919-02-06

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He Saw the Face, Carefully Averted.
ayerted, of the girl he had met at the
Marshalls' table, Innes Hardin. His
eyes jumped to her companions, the
man a stranger, and then, Gerty
Holmes. At least, Mrs. Hardin Some.
how, It surprised him to find her pretty
She had achieved variety of dis
tinction, preserving, moreover, the
clear-cut babyish chin which had made
its early appeal to him. There was the
same fluffy hair, its ringlets bit arti-
fetal to his more sophisticated eyes,
the same well-turned nose. He had
been wondering about this meeting; he
found that he had been expecting some
sort of shock-who said that the love
Of today Is the jest Of tomorrow? The
discovery that Gerty was not a Jest
brought the surprised qualification
which we award letter or composition
written in our youth. Were we as
clever as that, so complete at eighteen
or twenty-one? Could we, now, with
all our experience, do any better, or in
deed as we'll? That particular SEN
tence with wings! Could we make it
fly today as it scared yesterday? Rick
ard was finding that Gerty's more ma
ture charms did not accelerate his
heart-beats, but they were certainly
fattering to his early judgment. And
he had expected her to be a shock!
He was staring into his plate Of
chilled soup. Calf-love! For he had
loved her, or at least he had loved her
chin, her pretty childish way of lifting
it. She was prettier than he had pic
tured her. Queer that man like Har-
din could draw such women for sister
and wife-the blood tie was the most
amazing. For when women come to
marry, they make often queer choice.
1t occurred to him that that might
have been Hardin-he had not wanted
to stare at them.
That was not Hardin's face. 1t held
strength and power. The outline was
sharp and distinct, showing the strong
lines, the determined mouth of the pio-
neer. There was something else, some
thing which stood for distinction-no,
It couldn't be Hardin.
And then, because an outthrust lip
changed the entire look Of the man,
Rickard asked his table companions,
who was the man with the two ladies.
near the door.
"That, suh," his neighbor from Ala
bama became Immediately oratorical,
"that Is a big man, sub. If the I'm
perial valley ever becomes reality, a
fxtuah, it will be because Of that one
man, sub. Reclamation Is like seed
thrown on rock. VIII it stick? VIII
it take root? VIII it grow? That Is
what we all want to know"
Rickard thought that he had wanted
to know something quite different, and
reminded the gentleman from Alabama
that he had not told him the name.
"The father of this valley, Of the
reclamation Of this desert, Thomas
Hardin, suh."
Rickard tried to reset, without at
tracing their attention, the group Of
mis- impressions Of the man whose per-
sonality had been so obnoxious to him
In the old Lawrence days. The Hardin
he had known had also large features,
but of the flaccid irritating order. He
summoned a picture Of Hardin as he
had shuf1led into his own classroom, or
up to the long table where Gerty had
always queened it among her mothers
boarders. He could see the rough un-
polished boots that had always Offend
ed him as betrayal Of the mans in
ner coarseness; the badly fitting coat,
the long awkward arms, and the satis-
fed, loud-speaking mouth. These fea-
lures were more definite. Could time
bring these changes? Had he changed,
like that? Had they seen him? Would
Gerty, would Hardin remember him!
Wasn't it his place to make himself
known; wave the flag Of old friendship
over an awkward situation?
He found himself standing In front
Of their table, encountering first, the
ewes of Hardin's sister, There was no