Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 172, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 July 1916 — Love’s Quarantine [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Love’s Quarantine

By Frances Elizabeth Lanyon

(Copyright, 1916. by W. G. Chapman.) Stop! Look! Listen! The words glared down into the consciousness of Hector Drew with a vividness that; sent a thrill through every fiber of his frame. He saw the warning sign amid a vortex of dust, hissing steam and the grind and roar of giant wheels. Then he was Sensible of having grazed death by a narTOVTTfiargin. Someone was pulling at his sleeve—the same one who had grasped his arm and drawn him back just in the nick of time. -Stop! Look! Listen!’’ he murmured mechanically In a dazed, lost way. Then his eyes fell upon the hand trembling on his sleeve. His eyes followed its outlines to the wrist, along the arm to the face of the person who had saved his life. This was what he saw—a nut-brown face, but exquisitely molded, eyes with a trace of the shock of terror, but infinitely kindly and sensible. All these belonged to a gjjf of about twenty. She was plainly dressed, but neat and clean. By her side were two immense baskets, empty. She had dropped them to seize this abstracted, heedless mortal, immersed in thought, his mind a thousand miles away from the remotest suspicion of peril at a moment when it hovered so dangerously near to him. •jjfou didn’t seem to notice that the train was coming, sir,” said the girl, now that the excitement was past becoming shy and confused. “You

couldn’t have heard the whistle, nor have seen the sign. You must have been thinking, sir.” “Yes, it is a bad habit of mine,” confessed the young professor. Then he seized both of the brown hands. He pressed them fervently. “You —you have done me a great service,” he went on and fluttered, for never before had he been so close to a nfember of the opposite sex. “My dear young lady, I—l declare, I thank you!” And then, thrilled at a magic contact enforcing a new and happy sensation and overcome, too, at his unwonted timidity, he blushed like an awkward schoolboy.

He was just that in his innocence and inexperience. A bookworm, within the week he had started in as a tutor at the academy back in the town, on trial. A great thinker, he had struck his pupils as dull, when he was only abstracted. His mind his palace was. He picked up the baskets from the ground. “I was bound for a walk, anywhere,” he said, “so I may go your way, if you will allow me,” and then in his odd manner he drifted off into all kinds of generalities as they walked along —comn|ienting on the herbs they passed, the crops, the latest sun-force theory, and the girl listened, pleased and interested, for she recognized the sterling intellectual worth of this old head on young shoulders. “I thank you very much,” she said, as they reached a farm surrounding an old, but well-patched-up cottage, nestling among all kinds of flowering vines. A radiant garden encircled it. Then behind was a full ten acres, planted in order with sweet peas and carnations. "Why, you’ve got a regular paradise here!’ spoke the professor in profound admiration and surprise. “Yes,” nodded his bright little companion smilingly. “You see, father died, mother is an invalid, there are four little ones, but they can help when they are well and every morning 1 carry the flowers to the trolley express and ship them in to a city florist" "How delightful!” enthused Drew, and the whiff of perfume and the inspiration of brilliant colors cleared the cobwebs of ponderous science from his brain magically. "You see, you mustn’t come any nearer the house,” advised Myra Lit tie. “That sign—the red one near the door.” "Why, yes,” said Drew, scanning a

piece of flaming red cardboard—“measles, isn't it?” "Four 'cases,’’ * replied Myra. “The children have come down with it one after the other for a week. It has been bad for our little flower business, for I have to ray a man to come after the cut flowers and take them to the station. Then I go after the baskets." "Measles, eh?” repeated Drew in his vague ruminative way. “How fortunate.”

Myra stared at him in wonder. “I mean for myself,” Drew hastened to explain. “As a general student I have become quite a physician. I shall be glad to go in and look over the little ones. I may be able to suggest or prescribe in a "way that will alleviate their discomfort. You know doctors* are practically immune,” he laughed rand, heedless of the faint protests of his companion, he pntered the house with her. The little ones regarded him with awe and their mother with gratitude, as Drew looked them over and advised some sensible and efficacious home treatment. He lingered for an hour. The presence of the sweet-faced girl, the break in the solitary monotony of his life charmed him. ■ "I say, it won’t do!” challenged a decided voice, as he came into the outer air again to confront the local health officer. "I’m afraid it’s a quarantine, professor,” added the man. “You see, it wouldn’t do for you to carry back germs among all those young students. You’ll have to isolate yourself.” There was no gainsaying the edict of the officer. Drew looked more quizzical than dismayed. Then he saw the logic of the argument. “We would try to make you comfortable here,” spoke Myra, and an arrangement was consummated. The professor was to become a boarder in the infected house for the critical ten-day period.

It was a glorious experience, a wonderful variation. He needed it and he improved and enjoyed it. All day long he helped Myra among the flower beds. When one day he received a letter from the college folk announcing that they'had decided to do without a new tutor, he simply shrugged his shoulders.

“I declare,” he observed to Mrs. Little, “I could spend my life among the flowers! If you had a little more Ground and owned the place there would be more than a living in the work. This is life. I’ve missed it delving into old dusty tcmes. I have some money put by. Suppose I invest it here and —and why not go into partnership witlP you good people?”

Myra took" all this for a passing fancy, but she found herself mistaken. They had become famous friends, he, the courteous, warm-hearted scholar; she, the ceaseless, intrepid little worker. One day the professor returned from towh, an unusual animation apparent in his face and manner. “I’ve bought the place,” he announced. “And I’ve been thinking,” he added, walking along with Myra. “You remember that sign at the railroad crossing where you saved and changed my life? ‘Stop!’’’ and Myra halted obediently. He drew from his pocket a shining circlet. “‘Look!’” he supplemented, and Myra did so, and fluttered strangely. take the ring and become my partner for life? I love you.” “And I love you, too,” sweetly and simply spoke Myra, placing both hands confidingly within his own.

"How Delightful!” Enthused Drew.