Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1925-04-08

Il am quite, quite happy now she
sobbed brokenly II didn't-imagine-
it would come-this way, butt am
thankful-it has come"
For little while they yielded to
the glamour of the divine knowledge
that amidst the chaos of eternity each
soul had found it's mate. There was
no need for words. Love, tremendous
in its power, unfathomable in its mys-
terry, had cast it's spell over them.
They were CARRIED in light, throned in
a palace built by fairy hands. On all
sides squatted the ghouls of privat1on,
misery, danger, even grim death; but
they needed not the Inferno; they had
created a Paradise in an earthly hell.
Then Iris withdrew herself from the
mans embrace. She was delightfully."-
shy and timid now.
so you really do love me?'' she
whispered, crimson-faced, with shin
ing eyes and parted lips.
He drew her to him again and
kissed her tenderly. For he had cast
all doubt to the winds. No matter what
the future had in store she was his,
his only; it was not in mans power to
part them. A glorious effulgence
dazzled his brain. Her love had given
him the strength of Goliath, the con-
fidence of David. He would pluck her
from the perils that environed her.
The Dyak was not yet born who should
rend her from him
He fondled her nair and gently
rubbed her cheek with his rough I'M
gers. The sudden sense of ownership
of this fair woman was enhancing. IL
almost bewildered him to find Iris
nesting close, clinging to him in utter
confidence and trust.
"But I knew, I knew she muir
INJURED. "You betrayed yourself so
many times. You wrote your secret to
me, and, though you did not tell me,
[ found your dear words on the sands,
and have treasured them next my
heart"
What girlish romance was this? He
held her away gingerly, just so far
that he could look into her eyes.
ooh, it is true, quite true she
cried drawing the locket from her
neck. Don't you recognize your own
handwriting. or were you not certain,
just then, that you really love me-?
Dear, dear! How often would she
repeat that wondrous phrase. Togeth-
er they bent over the tiny slips OF
paper. There it was again-"I love
you''-twice blazoned in magic sym
bols With blushing eagerness she told
him how, by mere accident OF course,
she caught sight of her own name
1t was not very wrong, was 1T, to pick
up that tiny scrap, or those others,
which she could not help seeing, and
which unfolded their simple tale so
truthfully? Wrong! 1t was so delight
fully right that he must kiss her again
to emphasize his convictions.
All this fondling and lOve-making
had, of course, an air of grotesque aD-
surdity because INDUCED in by two
grimy and tattered individuals crouch
ing beneath tarpaulin on rocky
ledge. and surrounded by bloOdthirsty
sayages intent on their destruction.
Such incidents require the setting OF
convention, the conservatory with its
wealth of flowers and plants, sum-
mer wood, a Chippendale drawing
room. And yet, God wot, men and Wo-
men have loved each other in this
grey old world without stopping to
consider the appropriateness OF place
and season.
After a delicious pause Iris began
again
"Robert-T must call you Robert now
there, there, please let me get
word in even edgeways then,
Robert dear, do not care much what
happens now. I suppose it was very
wicked and foolish of me to speak as
I did before-before you called me
Iris. Now tell me at once. Why did
you call me Iris?"
'You must PROFOUND that riddle to
you'd godfather"
"'No wriggling, please. Why did you
do it?"
Because I could not help myself