The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1920-02-19
between RIVERS
BY FLORENCE MELLIsH.


for the best true love story, and VIII
fred Thayer, professor of English in
Carleton college, had been appointed
judge of the contest. He was not en-
chanted with the task, judging from
the slightly bored expression on his
handsome face as he bent over desk
piled with manuscripts.
Il wonder if amid this conglomera-
ton of sentiment and fiOrid rhetoric
there is one genuine experience. Thank
fortune this is the last"
He smoothed out the manuscript and
read the title: Between the Rivers"
"My word! That sounds familiar"
Wilfred gave low whistle. The hap
piest year of his life had been spent
In a rural locality, styled by the in
habitants of the nearest village BE
tween the Rivers" He began to read,
and the bored expression gave place
to one of unmistakable interest. 1t was
the story of girls first love affair."
and it began with an appreciative pic
ture of her young lover. A puzzled
frown between Wilfred's eyebrows
deepened as he read. He raised his
head and looked critically at his re-
Election in a mirror that CHANGED to be
over his desk.
"Well," he laughed, "if 1t were not
for few prematurely gray hairs and
wrinkles caused by excessive mental
labor. this fair contestant might have
attempted pen portrait of myself"
He finished the pathetic little story
for it was pathetic.
1T hasn't the happy ending that one
generally expects. That's one point
against it."
There was an idyllic courtship, a
little misunderstanding, and a parting;
"and," the story concluded, Il never
saw him again."
Wilfred's frown had disappeared. His
smile grew softly reminiscent. How
often Phyllis Harker and he had
leaned on the railing to watch the
Assawauga glide under the bridge, and
how many golden hours they had spent
on the Quinnabaug.
Could this be his own love story as
well as the authors? No, Phyllis
Harker was too proud, too fine to make
copy of her tenderest memories. Never
theless his fingers trembled as hd
opened the separate paper containing
the contestants name and address.
Phyllis Kenyon! Another cOinci-
dnnpnf Tho n DhNr11iS n
Kenyon might be her married name.
He glanced at the addresS-57 Myrtle
street, Ashton. b. an odd concurrence
Of events, he would address the Wom-
ems club of Ashton on Twentieth
Century Poets" the very next day.
The next day. after his address was
over, and as soon as he could escape
from the fervid appreciation of vari-
Gus members of the club, the profess
sor looked for 81 Myrtle street. He
gave his card to the maid who opened
the door of the unpretentlouS house,
and waited in the neat parlor, with
his heart beating faster than he APP
proved.
Phyllis paused on the threshold for
glance of recognition, possibly of ap-
praisal, before She came forward II
greet him. She had a certain air OF
dignity and remotenesS, though she
gave him her hand with unembarrassed
kindness.
This is good OF you, Professor
Thayer. l was sorry not to hear your
address"
81 am afraid you did not lose much.
Mrs. Kenyon"
Miss Kenyon" she corrected him,
smilingly.
But why" he flushed and hest
tated.
She smiled again. at IS only my
name that is changed. Soon after we
some years ago Mrs. Charlotte Key
yon persuaded me to go abroad with
her to have my voice trained. She
also prevailed on me to take her name,
and she promised to bequeath to me
her little property in return. But, pray
be seated and let us talk little. Mrs.
Thayer is not with your"
Mrs. Thayer?"
81 heard of your marriage few
years ago to Miss Hepburn"
ooh. that was my brother. am
still solitary
She blushed slightly. He glanced at
an upright piano in one corner of the
room.
You sing?' he suggested.
"Not now" A slight shadow crossed
her face. "A throat trouble made
slight operation necessary, and my
singing voice has never come back.
But how did you know that l was
here?"
For answer he drew her manuscript
from his inner pocket. She recognized
1t with little cry.
Phyllis" he reproached her, show
could you give this to the world?"
She bowed her head upon her hands
"Oh, Wilfred, l needed the money so
badly, and l thought no one would ever
know whose story it was"
Poor little girl" he interrupted. 81
see it all. Now, Phyllis, this would
probably win the prize, but / want you