Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 203, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 August 1910 — After Fifteen Years [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

After Fifteen Years

By Clarissa Mackie

Melvin Taylor and Adelia Scott had lived next door to each other all their lives, yet they had not spoken for 15 years. forty now, with a powdering of white in her brown hair, was sitting in the old grape vine swing, swaying idly to and fro. Her soft eyes were fixed on the toe of her small shoe as it lightly touched the green turf. Overhead the April sky was cloudless; around her was growing grass and young springing flowers. In her heart was a great yearning' tor happiness—a renewal of the joys that had belonged to her girlhood; the dreams, the Ideals that were hers before the awakening. From the other side of the dividing lilac hedge came the fragrance of tobacco and the sound of men’s voices, growing nearer. “Women are naturally stubborn,” Melvin Taylor was saying in a disagreeable tone. “If May has quarreled with you, Walter, you might as well give her up now and be done with it—no matter how deeply you repent. What apologies y.ou may offer however humble yourself, take my assurance she will not forgive you.” “Rubbish!” retorted Walter Stone, laughing. "May and I have had a disagreement, but I know we shall make it up—who knows when—perhaps today! As for the rest of womankind, they are all like May, I do believe—sweet and forgiving—only some clumsy brute of a man like you or me—” *. “I’ve had my experience,” interrupted Taylor brusquely. “I was engaged to marry what I believe to be

the sweetest girl In the world. We quarreled a week before our wedding day—ls years ago, I wrote a note begging her to forgive me—” Their voices died away as they passed beyond hearing, and Adelia still swayed to and fro In the grape vine. Now her face was white. So Melvin Taylor had made overtures of peace and she had never known it She, too, had written a note to him and hidden it in their true lover’s postoffice—a cup-like hollow in the old apple tree that grew in the lilac hedge. Day after day, 16 years ago, she had gone to the hollow—but there was never a letter; and her wedding day had come and gone and she had never been a bride. Invitations had been recalled, presents returned and bridal garments hidden from sight, while Adelia picked up the difil threads of every-day life and learned to meet Melvin Taylor npw and then and greet him with a cold little inclination of the head. With a sudden impulse she left the grape vine swing and sought the old apple tree. The lilac branches had grown unpruned until their smooth green stems quite hid the cuplike hollow. Adelia stood on tiptoe and thrust her little hand into the old letter box. The hollow was empty save for a few dead and crumpled leaves and a gathering of moss. Just as she withdrew her hand her fingers were caught in a warm, strong grasp. With a faint cry of alarm, Adelia tried to Jerk her hand away, but in vain. "Who is it?” demanded Melvin Taylor’s voice from the other side of the hedge. “Release me at once.” commanded Adelia angrily. “Oh!" There was enlightenment in his tone; but the grasp only tightened its hold. "If the faintest instincts of a gentleman,” began Adelia after m while. “I haven't," returned Mr. Taylor eoldly. Adelia leaned against the rugged trunk of the old tree, her white, outstretched arm gleaming against the brown bark- Her eyes were shining (like twin stars and her breath came iin little gasps. “What —what do you want?” she .found courage to ask after another painful silence. There was • moment's hesitation

and then: “I placed a note in here 15 years ago,” he began lamely. “Well?” “I never received a reply,” he said gruffly, his hold on her hand tightening cruelly. “You are hurting my hand,” she said with a little cry. “You hurt my' heart 15 years ago,” retorted Melvin stubbornly. After a long silence Adelia’s voice came faintly over the hedge. “I, too, placed a note there —15 years ago and—” “And?” queried Mr. Taylor. “I never received a reply to my note.” “The—dickens!” Mr. Taylor whistled softly. “I never got It, Adelia! Do you mean to say you never got a note from me the day after —after we quarreled.” “I never received any word from you.” Adelia’s voice was tremulous now, as she added: “If you will release my hand- 1 -”. —— He relaxed his hold reluctantly, and Adelia slipped down in a crumpled heap in the soft turf at the foot of the apple tree. “Go, Adelia,” he said gently. It is too late for me to offer you any apology for my long silence; I wrote you a letter, asking your forgiveness and I placed it here in the hollow—l believed you were hard and unforgiving when I did not receive any answer a Pd I grew more angrv with you, instead of seeking an explanation. Your little note, as well as mine, was probably taken by some marauding catbird to build his nest in the hedge. I think I shall go away now—l have been such a fool I want to seek the uttermost ends of the earth to try and forget my folly!” His voice regained its bitterness. There was a long silence after that. “I am here, Melvin,” said, Adelia. “May I corfie over?” he asked in a strange voice. “Yes,” she said softly, but not so softly that his eager ears did not catch the longed-for words. Presently he was beside her, the old boyish smile on his lips, the old lovelight in his eyes, the old happiness in his face. Adelia flushing rosily, leaned for support against the apple tree and her downcast eyes dared not meet his questioning ones. “Will you forgive me, Adelia?” he asked holding out his arms. “If you will forgive me, too,” she said sweetly, turning a radiant face up to him. And then she came to him, all her sorrows stilled, all her happiness restored ten-fold because of the pain she had endured. Overhead the April sky was cloudless, underfoot the green grass was starred with dandelions; there in the shade of the beloved old apple tree, Adelia’s youth came back to her, with happiness and love and all the old Ideals.

Swaying Idly to and Fro.