The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1933-01-06

quiet. know our fine Verne. air is
going to do You lots Of good. You
look better already than when you
came.r
= feel better said Philip. ~ enks
aWfully for letting me take Blan.Ae.
I'll take good care Of herr
The route whicl Violet had suggest
ed was one which could easily be Gov
cred In two hours with the old family
horse, but no one seemed to think it
worth a comment when Philip and
Blanche, leaving the house a little be-
fore three, reappeared late fer a six
O'Clock supper. They had come to
little lake Silver pond, Blanche
called it-and found an old water
logged rowboat lying neglected beside
1t. They bailed out the water in it
with tin can, found providentially
near at hand. They they rowed
about the lake for a time. and finally
climbed hill back Of 1t, where they
sat and admired the view.
Philip had been laughing. off and
on. all the afternoon. from sheer Joy,
and when Blanche told one of her
little stories. with perfect artlessness,
he laughed more than ever.
TT seems so absolutely peaceful
here" he said, Lets NOT hurry away
.sWell. we needn't, of course replied
Blanche. s.if 1t wasn't for the dance"
nOh YES. the dancel VIII you give
me every other oneg'
II think that's rather many, per-
haps, don't YOUR asked Blanche,
flushing a little.
"OA. no. not at all! I wouldn't
dream Of asking for less. It isn't
done.n
sNow you're laughing at me again."
Had any man, Philip wondered,
ever found a girl SO unspoiled, SO ut
terly delicious? 1t was difficult for
him to refrain from taking her into
his arms then and there: and though
somehow he managed to steel himself
against doing this, he reached out for
the little hand that lau lightly on the
extremely narrow strip Of wood that
separated him from Blanche, and
locked his hard. lean fingers with her
soft pink ones. Nothing that he had
ever experienced in his life had awak-
ened in him such a feeling of ecstasy.
What tremendous undeserved--
luck had been with him when he de-
cided to take that swim!
II am SO glad you agree with me
about the dances" he said. at last, ris-
ing reluctantly.
'But / didn't agree! Philip, how
can your"
Philip! She had already begun to
forget to call him Mr.. Starr. He had
never known before what a wonder
full name Philip was. The slow drive
home was permeated with magic.
Without knowing when or how he had
begun to do SO, Philip found that he
was holding both Blanche's hands; he
felt her golden head sink gently on his
shoulder and rest there quiescent. The
deepening dusk, Unfolding them,
seemed pregnant with the promise OF
still closer companionship. of more ar
dent embraces. But the prelude to
these was perfect and complete IN
itself.
Neither the return to the farm, nor
the family supper, nor the departure
for the party to which Blanche had
looked forward to eagerly, dispelled
Philips illusion of enchantment. OF
course he got his dances. Many of
the alternate ones he danced with
Mary.
All on the Lady Blanche farm were
sorry when Philip said good-by bright
and early Tuesday morning. Blanche,
to whom he had suggested short
walk through the orchard, lifted
brimming eyes to his He stopped and
kissed the tears away from her lashes.
Then he laid his cheek against hers.
"Thls isn't really good-by, you
know" he whispered; and added soft
ly, sweetheart
Violet's farewell was likewise ac-
companied by tears. as well as by
little pats and cooling sounds. Mary
| packed a delicious lunch, and laid a
neatly folded road map with Philips