Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 136, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 June 1916 — HOW HE PROPOSED [ARTICLE]

HOW HE PROPOSED

By SUSAN CLAGETT.

(Copyright, 1316, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) In the half light of an October evening the room was charming. To the njan coming from the frosty outside air it was full of luxurious comfort. The man paused an instant, his eyes taking in every familiar detail; then they rested upon the woman standing -before the open fire, "The fates are indeed kind,” she said as he advanced toward her. “I was beginning to think myself forgotten.” ‘•Never that,” he answered, a smile lighting his face. "Think it the exigencies of business, anything, but not that.” As he spoke he pushed an easy chair nearer the fire and sank into it with a sigh of content. “1 have lost much, I know. You, who have it always, cannot, appreciate the charm, the delight of such a room as this to a weary man. It is always before me as a haven of rest and has so tantalized me this day that I was forced to yield to my mood although my desk is piled high with unfinished work.” "I am glad it was so,” she answered cordially. "Of my many friends, your presence is the most acceptable.” . “Are you not mistaken?” he questioned gravely. ' “It has seemed to me that I have lately been on the outside. It is as if you had shut a door in my face and said, ‘Thus far, but no farther.’ ” She dnmped her fan and looked at him in sildhce. Then she said gently: “Your voice sounds angry. Are you trying to provoke a quarrel? Do not. I will not quarrel with you,” “Then why do you always fence with me?” he asked impatiently. “It has been this way for months past, but it is unlike you. I value our friendship. The privilege of coming and going as I willed has for years been my chief pleasure. But this ‘rift within the lute’ that you will not explain away leaves me stranded. Our old-time friendship Is gone.” ' “Believe me, I have been most unfoN tunate if my manner has conveyed such an impression,” she said slowly. “Jack,” with a swift glance into his gloomy face, “for how long have we been friends?" “For more years than I care to remember,’* he responded promptly. Quietly she watched him, but there was & nervous tremble to her lips nearer to tears than laughter. “I have been a fool,” he* exclaimed abruptly. She let the accusation pass in silence. “And a coward.” “You are beginning to see how unreasonable you are?” she asked as she raised her fan to hide a smile. “No. On that point my opinion is unchanged. I was thinking of the loneliness of my life. The friendship on my side has always been make believe, for I love you, Margaret. I think I have always loved you. It is a commonplace way of putting it, but then I. am a commonplace man. I would have told you long ago, but I was afraid that my doing so would end everything.” “I think you should also add‘cruel’ and ‘selfish.’ The words would be applicable,” she replied with hardly concealed bitterness. The years had risen In a flash before her; years in which she had trained herself in the difficult art of friendship when her heart was crying against such dissimulation. Something in her voice again attracted his attention, but her face was still in the shadow. “I am in an unlucky humor this afternoon else I would not have jeopardized my greatest pleasure. Will you forget it and let me come as heretofore?” "Forget It? No!” She replied with deliberation. “I see no reason for changing the habit of years because a mood forced a confession from you. I well understand it was not voluntary.” “You anger me. It is you who wilj not understand. There is no little misapprehension in my mind that I ask you to give me an explicit answer at once.” “To what?” “To what? Was there ever such a woman! Surely my meaning is plain enough. It does not speak well for your intuition to ask under the circumstances.” “And yet I do ask it. Jack. You have talked and talked. At first accusing me. Then you dropped into a sort of monologue about friendshipand love, and —that is all.” “Do you mean me to understand that; I have not asked you to marry me?” “You did not even suggest it” “Well. I am waiting for my anwer.” “But you haven’t asked me anything —yet.” ■ ' . 1 ■ “Good heavens! How many times do you want to hear it?” he exclaimed in exasperation. “Once will be often enough,” she answered in a voice quivering with restrained tenderness. He leaned toward her, looking stead-. Ily into the amused eyes. “Will you be my wife, Margaret? Ia that what you want me to say? Do the words make my meaning any plainer?” She drew his hand against her cheek with a little laugh. "Why didn’t you say that before, dear? Surely after all these years you owed it to ma.’’ • • • HsHs