The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1930-08-29

MIN. He came directly TO ner IN nee
room, and his face was like drunk
ards, flushed and relaxed and happy.
He caught her In his arms and kissed
her passionately.
"Will-where have you been? Why
are you so stranger" she asked him.
For answer he pressed his lips
against her throat, he put her short
dark hair back from her brow and
stared at her, entranced with what he
saw.
you're so lovely" he said, $50
beautiful, Ernestine. Not even the old
masters have a face as lovely as yours.
Your eyes-your eyes are sad, my
sweet. Why are you sad?' He ran
his fingers over her face, his strong
fingers that could touch lightly, won.
derfully.
Ernestine felt as if her heart would
break.
"Will-tell me. What ails you" she
implored him. "You haven't noticed
me for weeks and weeks-all winter
you haven't even seen me, and now
you come in like this"
He moved away from her. He was
erect, triumphant, under the impulse
Of strong excitement.
"I've done it, Ernestine."
"What have you done?' &.
He made gesture with his fingers
"a stroke in their air, either With
brush or pencil.
"rve made something new and diff
ferent. Something I've wanted long
time. I'll tell you about it some day
when I'm ready. But now, don't ques
ton me. Just love me. AS you used
to, Ernestine. Can't you come to me
as you used to come? My love, and
mine alone?"
He wooed her, and she yielded tt
him, finding an instant's hurting Joy
in his old eagerness-his old flarins
enthusiasm. This tide of human love
was not new to her. Its sameness was
like an enchantment. But after he
was sleeping by her side, she wept
secretly. He was so strange. Even
in his ardor, deep honesty warned her
that not her beauty, not her love, not
her dearness had allured him-he had
been impelled toward her by something
within himself. His deep and secret
springs Of artistry were awakening
stirring. Solitary even in his pas
sion and his love.
The next morning she rose with her
heart hardened with determination
and after he had gone downtown, she
hunted out among her possessions the
old Office key he had given her, so Ions
ago. She took the bus and went bach
to Erie street, walked the old familiar
way again and came to the old office
fitted her key in the lock and opened
the door. The office was empty, and
she entered and shut the door behint
her.
The light in the place was fine. A
long window crossed the back Of the
room, and here was slanted table
and stool. Ernestine moved to thi!
and calmly, deliberately, she began tt
hunt for Wills secret. She had ne
more SCIupI6 dDOuI ~ tAdlA ohC WYNN
have had if he had been her son ant
in some trouble she must learn abom
In the middle of the drawing board
on white rice paper pinned down will
tacks at the corners, was a sketch
Only a few strong lines in charcoal
She saw herself, coming down tn,
stairs, the naked baby on her arm, on,
hand at the balustrade. The lOni
lines of her limbs bore subtle ant
flowing exaggeration. 1t was beauti
full. 1t was alive. 1t moved and in it,
motion were poetry and sound. 1t wal
new, work of q kind she had neveI
seen before. But she understood 1t
The outlines were clear and hard-tht
work had authority, fire, but nobod,
else had made a picture like this. I'm
Outstanding filled her. Last night
VIII had not loved her. Her heart hat
told her truly. 1t was this picture
this bright mental image of woman
hood that he had loved, had taken int
his arms and caressed.
mo, no." she whispered. "That'
morbid. 1t is whom VIII loves. 1t il
only his way"
On the corner of the sheet, like
signature, were the round hare
splotches of tears. Ernestine wept
too standing there and looking at THU
new work and thinking of Wnl-ant
the Todd cats.
(To BE CONTINUED.)