Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1922-10-20
BAR OF ROSES
BY MILDRED WHITE

1 3-=-= IT
/ q, l922. by Mcclure Newspaper Syndicate.
The little house stood back from
the roadside. A tiny house. indeed,
/ but up to its doorway yellow rose
shrubs bordered a path, barring
/ against intruders. Constance, viewing
the picture from the car, was de-
/ lighted.
philip" she said to the man mt her
side, 81 will stop here to wait until you
have finished your law business"
Constance Dare's fance smillngly
agreed.
"All right, dear" he replied
Constance sank into wide porch
chair and smiled at her host, who
came through the cottage door. He
seated himself on the step with an
apology.
II am permitted so seldom to see
strangers that to talk with them Is
treat If you have stopped In the viii
lage you, no doubt, heard of the her
mit?'
I'VE did not stop in the village"
/ 1
friend, who is here on IA matter of
law, and he has gone on to see the To-
cal attorney, who lives, [ believe, fur
Their up the hill"
The old man nodded.
Farther up the hill are our fine
residences. Here is desolatiou."
Beautiful desolation." said Con-
stance; then eagerly leaned forward.
You were going to tell me about your
hermit life?'
They We're seated in the little porch
when the hermit told his story.
My home, as young man. was up
the HILL he began. There | loved
| and married. as | truly believed, the
sweetest, truest girl in the world The
sad part is that through all the years,
she has been TO me the sweetest
aud will ever be. My past love could
not alter even in face Of her faith
lessness. 1t was when our boy was a
little lad, twining himself about his
fathers heartStrings, that Eleanor left
me. Her note said that love had
never entered into her marriage My
money was the motive of her parents
inhuence-an influence that won
But now, she wrote, love had found
her. and love she would not deny.
1T was a poor sort of divorce that
she was able to obtain from me in
state where laws are convenient; but
it answered Ncllie'S purpose. Six
months aftcrWard She came for my
boy. | loved him-so did she; there
was no doubt of that-in the wreck of
her life that love still bloomed beau
tiful thing. So | gave my boy to her
1t was the only thing that [ could do
when Nellie asked me. And she took
( him away with her to that far state
where the man she cared for lived,
and | never saw my son again When
had made the property on the hill
over to him. chat ne might inherit it
only after my wife's death, | came
down to live in solitude With my books
-renouncing u life that had taken
from me all l had and given moth
ing.
In measure | am content But
will have no small boys crossing my
solitude; little boys, With all their
trust in life shining IN their happy
faces-boys that return for a fathers
greeting against these l set my bar
of roses"
Constance found her face wet with
tears. Into the roadway swung the
automobile Philip Amsden, jumping
out came to claim his tiancee.
Slowly, at his approach, the old man
arose from his chair, Across the worn
face flashed a white light Philip,
waiting gazed as one fascinated, into
the sorrowful eyes.
Your nameE' Philip asked, sharply.
In whisper the old man gave it,
i am Philip Amsden," he said.
Il thought there could be no mis-
take.' The young mans tone was Still
curt, 1T was my mother who placed
your picture in my room. / had No
wish for 1t there-a father who DELHI
erately gave up his own son And it
VAS only after mothers recent death
that | learned of your bequest to me;
my errand today was to see that it is
returned. | will take no gift from
man who forswears his son"
Dumbly the hermit stood. Constance
put caressing arm around each.
philip she said, I'VE have trav-
eled down no road Of chance today.
We came to bring your father back to
his own. To make up To him in our
own hOme-you and for years OF
loneliness"
Above her head the men looked, ia
sudden understanding.
How very sweet" said Constance,
the roses smell"