Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 February 1912 — Because of Bennett [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Because of Bennett

By M. C. England

The June evening was balmy end fragrant. The last long rays of the setting sun slanted over the grass and up on the wide, vine-hung porch, where two wicker ehairs were drawn cosily together. /< In one sat a girl, fluffy as to gown and hair, dimpled of cheek. In the other satla youth, impressive of manner, dark of eyes, - -of a type of physical attractiveness' that corresponded with ju satisfying completeness to_ the'girl, the night, and the general atmosphere of June and roses. .’'J’ -. ? ’• 4 “I brought you those flowers,” he was saying, an accusing finger -directed toward the table where they lay,, "not to be put over there and forgotten about, but to wear, or hold Six * She looked" around with a little* air of penitence. "1 “Why, I did forget them, didn’t I? Poor things!” . Rising, she went over to the table and picked them up tenderly, smoothing out the crumpled petals where • they had. lain. “I bet if Bennett had brought them ever you wouldn’t have forgotten,” he-said.. • « She paused in her advance toward him and ah odd, arrested look stole over her face. Presently she moved somewhat stiffly over, dropped precipltately into the chair again, while a burning blush spread slowly up tb her very hair and as slowly died away. J..-' : - The youth stared at her suspiciously. “What are you blushing about?” he demanded, a dawning resentment in his voice. L r 1 She retorted indignantly. “I’ll blush tlf -I want to. And, besides, I’m not, anyway,” she hdded incoherently. "You’re always imagining something.” “Imagining!” he scoffed, growing more resentful as his suspicions took firmer root. “Why, it was a regular sunset! I make a silly remark just to hear you laugh at it, and instead of that you give a color exhibition that would fade a bunch of firecrackers to a sickly pink, rd like to know What you mean by it,” . < ; “Would you really?” Inquired the

maiden with auspicious sweetness. “By what right, may I ask, do you—” i* "Right!” he Interrupted hotly. "What right? Haven’t I asked you _ to marry me every other night for the last three months? You know very well you’re going to say *yes’ some* time. I was going to do It again tonight if you’d given me, half a chance. I was only waiting till the moon came up.” ' • "Then I certainly wouldn’t have said •yes’ tonight,’’ returned Miss Dimples indignantly. “You look sillier in the than at any other time.” The youth rose majestically from his chair. “Very well,” he announced calmly, “that ends it! You’ve given me every reason to believe you’re in love with that Bennett I mention his name and you blush. Not only, that, but you refuse to explain. And not only that, but—"Go away!” a stifled voice commanded. “Ob, I’m going! You needn’t be in . .Meh a hurry. It’s the last you’ll see of me,” the youth threatened in sepulchral tones. ~ He turned on the third irtep. "You might walk down to the gate with me,” he conceded gloomily. “It’s the last' time”. - ."I will not!” explained a furious little voice. “I won’t stir from this chair—not If you stand there till the crack of doom!” She watched him as he strode to the gate, listened intently to the vindictive scrunch of his boots on the gravel outside till the sounds grew faint In the distance. Then she rose, walked forward three steps, gave an angry little shake to her ruffled skirts and carefully stepped out of a filmy mesh of lace and linen that was caught about her feet. < ... e , She picked it up, crunched ft into M It ta famt ot her lice. _ ■ #**•*•.; _ ** r ’ - _ _ I blushed .. aW-T'w mrcilaVVl gIUKIUg UUWJj IUIU lUv v*l<*A* I

- agaln. “At least I couldnT possibly never ask me again till after I’ve exThe fluffy head sank down to the Weeks passed and the youth and the girl passed each other with averted looks or frankly belligerent stares. Once, notably on an evening of the fragrant, glamour-filled variety, IfiOeart of the youth softened and he started out through the moonlit ■Oantment toward the porch and the wicker chairs. But as he neared the familiar environment there came searing through him the memory of his innocent remark and the strange look And vivid blush that had greeted it. His resolution turned to gall within him. He drifted aimlessly down a side avenue, whence be wandered to the outskirts to sit on a lone rock and curse fate. Gradually he began to meet the jnaiden' and Bennett going about together. Presently he met her at a dance. Though she kept far from his vicinity, and*her silvery mirth seemed oftenest mingled with Bennett’s braying laughter, he imagined with a thrill of rising hope that her vivacity was not quite so genuine, her eyes not quite so sparkling bright nor her bdhuty so radiantly undimmed as in the days of his uninterrupted devotion- ' Nevertheless rumors began to reach him that the girl and Bennett were engaged. , There came an October evening, chill and gray. -The blood-red rays of the setting sun struggled through, banks of stormy cloud, across windswept reaches of dead leaves and up on a wide, vine-hung poFch, where two wicker chairs were drawn stiffly apart In one sat a girl, slimly plain as to long ulster and jaunty cap, disconcertingly distant of mien. In the other sat a youth, mournful, shadowed Of eye, 1 of an ensemble which accorded cheerlessly with the girl, the night and the general atmosphere of ruin and decay. brought you that autumn foliage,” he was saying bleakly, “not bercause I thought you would care for it, or value it as from a one-time friend, but merely as a symbol of the death of our—er—” “Thank you,” she murmured absently. He leaned back heavily, and the wind moaned in dirge-like’ cadence through the deepening gloom. “It was good of you to let me see you, for the last goodby.* “I had nothing else to do,” she admitted with, faint regret “Mr. Bennett is out of town.” ‘ The youth’s eyes - burned with a dull fury. The fiery rim of the crimson sun shot an angry gleam at thdir feet. Suddenly he leaned forward, cheerless decision in his air. 4 “You needn’t pay any attention to it, of course,” he chanted wearily. “I don’t expect yon to. But I’m going to do it again—just to round the thing out and —er —because I’m accustomed to doing It, and I miss it. Here it is. I love you. I have always loved you. I am going to love yqu to the bitter end.~ Will you marry me?” “Yes,” said the maid. The sun shot down precipitately, wrathfully. The youth sat petrified, Immobile,'his mouth still partly open, The girl looked back at him with level eyes. . ■ “I said you looked silliest doing It in the moonlight,” she taunted. “You -don’t.” - ' “Why did you bldsh?’’ he’sffiter tenderly. Annoyance spread over the face of the maiden. * f . “I refuse to discuss it,” she said. Again the mystery, unsolved! For one fateful moment the heart of the youth gfew cold .with doubt and things threatened to go wrong again for evermore. Then an illumining thought leaped in. She was going to marry him. What mattered it? “I have itT” he announced exultantly. “You were blushing over the thought of being silly enough to blush over Bennett.” “Exactly!" she murmured with joyful pride. "How clever, dear!" Then peace and darkness fell.