The Glenwood post., 1924-01-17

AAiSAS was ACu1 QulVcT
in her voice. '"Then something told
me he was here. That's the way 1t
happened with US at the first. So I
knew l couldn't go through with 1t
with Chester"
I surrendered. "Tll give you the
message when come back" 1 prom
ised.
"Come soon," she whispered.
A sort of well-bred social riot fol-
lowed my return to the church, in
which the coolest figure was the BRIDE
groom. You might know he'd take 1t
that way and go off dignifiedly to ia
pan or JugoSlavia or somewhere,
which is exactly what he did.
When what was left of wilted Me
got back to the Jermyns' Norrie was
after me instantly.
"Where is he, Vix?"
"At the Pioneers. What are you
going to do about it?'
"Send for him."
'aTo come here? The family will
love that!"
''The family aren't speaking to me
anyway. Can you blame them?"
you might at least spare them an
the reporters, massed outside, will
catch him and things will be worse
than before. If possible"
Norrie thought that over, not being
wholly beyond reason-yet. "vix,
will you be very good to me?'
mel I'd like to beat you to q
frazzle"
you're dear" was the singular
Interpretation she put upon this. II
want you to so and see him."
II don't even know his internal
name"
"Calvin Sennett"
(which means nothing to me-" said
I, after considering it.
''1t means everything in the world
to me-"
"Oh. darn it, I'll got" I yielded.
Calvin Sennett received me with a
matter-of-fact air which did not sootl1e
my sense of injury.
"Since you had to come back" said
I, "couldn't you have contrived to get
here earlierT'
"Sorry," he returned composed1y,
"but I've only just landed"
"From where2"
"South America. We were lost in
the wilds."
"At least you might have sent word
ahead"
,T wired yesterday. Her parents
muat have intercented r.
"They would" reflected aloud.
Well, what am I here forY'
1.-THE most blessedly sane thing that
ever happened" he averred. 'The
other would have been the lunacy.
But 1t couldn't have happened. Not
again" He leaned forward to me.
"Have you ever heard Of Scatcherds-
viller
"No. Minor geography isnt my
strong point"
Being vlckert, I thought you
probably derived from central New
York. 1t doesn't matter; scatcherds-
Vile has dropped out Of the seogra-
phies this half century and more. II
doesn't exist except for the dead.
That is where Bleanor and I VIII he
some day."
'-The devil you will /" said l, startled
By the calm assumption Of the an
nouncement
sYes, together. The faithful Of our
blood, hers and mine, 90 back there
at the last sleep. Youn see that It
must be 10 when you know It all"
- q. ~ a. ~h n
spoke.
The Deserted Village Hes asleep b.
side singing stream. Years and long
years ago, before 1t had lost its name
and faded from the activities Of men,
there were busy mills there, a group
Of sturdy mansions, cottages, a church.
and brisk street Of stores; there was
labor and ambition and love and
warm hearthstones; until the newly
projected railroad turned and passed
It BY. Then its life waned. Tho mills
crumblsd, the cottages yielded to the
slow encroachment Of tree and ivy,
the mansions and stores stood empty
and lifeless. But the church, with IL
surrounding graveyard still maintains
itself stanch against the years, fos
the ancient blood that built and loved
the place comes back. by q gentle tra-
dition, to bury its dead there, even
unto the third and fourth generations.
Death alone gives to the Deserted VII
lage the transitoFy semblance Of life.
Tiger lilies Of July were swaying
over the peaceful graves when the
stiffness was invaded by the stiff,
mechanistic and saturnine panoply Of
a modern burial. The cars in the pro-
cession had driven out from the near
est city, to bury old Mark Jernyn be-
side the others Of his generation.
Through the compulsion Of family
loyalty. Eleanor Jermyn, his great
niece, had been drawn most unwil-
lingly from house party several hun
dred miles away, where she had been
having highly satisfactory time. Al