The Oakley herald. [volume] (Oakley, Idaho) 1908-1961, 1924-09-12

would be lucky man. he thought
with curious wistfulness.
And suddenly. with an unaccus
toned flush Of color in his face, the
question sprang into his heart full
formed. Suppose such a girl could
come to care for man like him I
Where could he find anything better,
or sweeter, or more rich In promise
for the years to come? He was tired
OF the old life. he had never really
cared for the false standards. the SUI
perficial women, the intriguing, shall
low girls. the show and glitter and
cost. To put his arm about that love
ly young body, to feel her close TO him
as she raised her fiowerlike face for
his kiss, TO see Ellen In the sort of
gowns he could design for her,
crouched beside a studio fre-cross-
Ing an old garden In spring Moth
ing In months had so stirred his old
delight in living as the thought of
pleasing her. spelling her. finding the
untouched deeps Of her Joy always
fresh.
Suddenly the plan was born. Paris
They would go TO Paris, and there
they could both work, and could make
for themselves a life nothing short of
the ideal A dim old studio, one OF
those clever maids who delight In the
cooking art. summers idling In Brit
tany or Holland. And the lovely young
Mrs. JOsselyn, a picture In gypsy hats
and summer smocks, or velvet, child
ish winter gowns. would fill his life
with sweetness, and inspiration, and
everything that was clean and good
and honest
He crossed the porch to the door of
the ballroom as the dance ended. and
met her, in the group of girls and
boys who were coming out for
breath of cooler air. She was talking
to another girl. but she saw the
strange man, and turned her bright
eyes curiously toward him. Then she
stopped speaking, and one hand went
with quick gesture to her heart, and
in the dimness he saw her white
breast rise suddenly. and her lips part |
little
He got her hand, and held 1t, and |
still she did not speak, merely stood |
breathing high, and looking steadily
at him.
Gibbs found his own voice curiously
unmanageable. He cleared his throat.
"Ellenr he said.
Another dance began, and another
and vet another. And through them
all Ellen and Gibbs sat on the dark
porch, over the softly moving water,
and talked with that desperate deep
relief that pilgrims know who find
fresh, icy springs after the parching
desert, or mothers know who weep be-
side the bedside of the child that will
i've.
1t seemed to Ellen that all her life
rad been only a preparation for that
ak. Sometimes he made her laugh.
md she would flash him a look from
tverted blue eyes, and bring all her
limples into sudden play. and often
he made him laugh, and would regard
lin with delicious childish serious
less until his mirth was explained.
But for the most part they were seri-
us, there was much to explain. much
hat was sad and poignantly sweet to
and with eloquent looks
nd monosyllables they relived it all,
nd found 1t inexhaustibly wonderful
nd strange.
And at midnight Ellen was driven
way, by Leonard Henshaw, her hand
till warm from the touch of Gibbs
ig hand, her shoulder still feeling rhe
ressure of his protective arm, her
cart and mind and soul in a whirl of c
arshine. She undressed. wrapped in b
sort of love for the gown and the
air and the eyes Gibbs had praised. ,
nd lay down on her small white bed :
I'd extingulshed her light so prompt s
that her restless aunt, in The next !,
'om. felt sensation of gratitude. /,
But Ellen had no time to waste with | v
eep tonight
Nor did Gibbs sleep. He sat out y
lie his stateroom far into the morn
g, smoking, thinking, smoking again. q
about four o'clock, when a faint X
Mt of dawn was glimmering into the 81
rkness. George. Senior, looked a
wning out.
For the Lords sake-old man ~
Il know-rm coming now" Gibbs
ose. cold. yawnng and stretching. a
know he apologized. smiling. And is
ming near to the tousled and pa W
na-clad form of his friend he said a
tn a certain boyish appeal In his
Ice: I'm awfully happy about
netting, George. and awfulIy-sort "
scared. Wish me luck, old manw C,
81