The Monmouth inquirer., 1924-04-24
AUNT JEANETTE
( AND HER STORY
By MoLLIE MATHER
OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES

eu 10 Inc LII Dy hlSuQ WIZ
spent his vacations there. 1t was very
homelike, Bronson told him; the guests
as one big family. Mrs Benson, the
hostess, saw to it that no EARRING notes
In the way Of undesirables were per
mitted.
So he presented his letter of intro
duction from Bronson and was well
coined by the genial Mrs. Benson.
From the very first his attention was
held by young woman who. with an
elder, sweet-faeed old lady, occupied
table near his own in the pleasant din
ing room.
The name of the elder woman was
Jeanette Gordon--the name Of the
younger, the same. They had come
from the South, his hostess informed
him, unsatisfactory. But II Richard
was ignored, others as eager for the
privilege of friendship were discour-
| aged also. When he found that he
could not actually tear himself away
from Miss Jeanettes proximity Rich
ard decided. desperately. to storm the
/ fort. Therefore, when he learned the
| gered about the inn garden until the
elder lady should be safe in her room
for the night, then her devoted young
companion would come to seek an hour
of uninterrupted recreation in the cool
fragrance. He accosted her courteous
ly and they walked together through
the fiower-bordered paths.
flor, foh 4uoo forf11r7o fa fr,
securing the promise of companion
able morning waIk-and so it happened
that his love grew until it possessed
him utterly. Jeanette, whom her aunt
affectionately called Jeanne, remained.
however, far removed from him In atti-
tude and confidence. Like some dream
maiden she walked at his side, her
thoughts evidently elsewhere And
oftener than she smiled she sighed and
he would see tears drop from the black
lashes to the soft pink of her cheek.
The lover was dismayed, and when he
was forced to declare his love, Jeanne
turned to him as one In compassion.
Dear friend" she said, Il am sorry.
You must go away, for shall marry
no one" Her decree was final.
So Richard walked the garden alone
until the morning. when he came I'M
expectedly upon Aunt Jeanette gather
ing flowers as merry as child escaped
from school
''You see," she greeted him, Jeanne
had a trip to make TO town; she left
me finishing my morning nap.
thought 1 would surprise her with flow
ers on her dressing table"
/ Richard led Mrs. Gordon to a bench
beneath tree, hoping to gain her as
an ally in his cause with the niece.
"Jeanie," began the young man, will
/ have nothing to do with me, Mrs. Cor
don. Richards voice broke In his
desperation-"and I love her" he said.
| 81 love her.
Aunt Jeanette gazed at him with
eyes gently understanding. Jeanne
will have no more friendships nor love
with any man." said the old lady, be
cause she has so bitterly suffered.
may tell you, though she has often for
| hidden me to do so. Some time ago
Jeanette married man whom she had
| loved all her life. He seemed all that
was worthy; but after she married him
he left her for another-a woman
whom he called his real love-and
young Jeanne was deserted. Deserted
| A horrible word, a horrible pain of hu-
initiation, of establishment. We
\ travel about, she and /, trying to for
| get But'-bright cheer came back to
| the quavering voice-"we must not for
ever grieve. / tell her so. laugh and
am happy. For life, after all. is be
fore us, and life is good. But. you see.
Jeanie may not marry"
Richard walked, unknowing where
he went, the roads of beautiful Strath-
mere. He was bearing his pain.
knowing that he, too, suffered an In
durable disappointment, an unbearable
disillusion. The one woman whom he
had come to love was not his love, but
had given herself, in her sweet fresh
ness, to some monster who had care
lessly thrown away the prize-Jeanie,
with her sad gaze. her wistful smiling
lips, living ever in memory OF worth
less love.
He retraced his steps at evening.
Two persons sat in a secluded corner
of the veranda. YEARLY Richard
dropped on lower step.
1T seems a shame" the man was
saying, that a lovely young woman
like Jeanette Gordon should be tied
for life to crazy woman For, merci-
lessly, that is what her aunt is. And
for the girls father to exact the prom
Use of this guardianship as he died was
unkind.
"WeI," Mrs. Benson replied, sit does
seem so, but old Mrs. Gordon Is as
harmless as a sweet and simple child,
aside from rambling on about the
tragedy of her life. She was deserted
as a young wife, you know, and the
impress of that trouble is stamped In
delibly upon the mind it shattered.
Jeanie's father was very tender with
this aunt of his. and left her to his