Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 191, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 August 1918 — THE LIVING MEMORY [ARTICLE]

THE LIVING MEMORY

By MILDRED WHITE.

John Ruggles swung about in the re- , volvlngchair before his- desk, to gaze qver the high roofs beneath the glaring July sun. There it was again, that evasive memory of something sweet and half forgotten! What had happened to him in his heretofore satisfied middle age, that vague longings should reach but from the past? Business and its success had for years absorbed him, blotting out all that had been before, making wealth alone his goal. Now, wealth waa achieved, whnt had it brought him? Lillias had dropped out of his life so long ago he had Tost regard for her when she had chosen in preference to himself a sort of wandering nomad for a husband. Will had been a dreamy Idealist, while he. John Ruggles, even in that long ago. Showed unmistakable business promise. It was in his youthful engineering capacity that he .had visited the little village almost buried beheuth Jts encircling hills. Lillias had met him in the quaint flower garden of her home, and it had been Will who took him there. Will, who, lazily curious about John’s work, had mode friends with the engineer upon the highway. Win had been kind to the strangef, had made it pleasant for him in the lonely village, offering the hospitality of his own small home. John Ruggles had been glad to accept. There were valuable books on the crude shelves of Will’s one roomed habitation —interesting curios from all parts of the world—and Will had taken him to see Lillias; when the engineer looked into the girl’s rare bluebell eyes, he decided to remain indefinitely in the village. Decided calmly, to win her from the man whom she loved and make her his own, and John Ruggles had failed; that was all. Then he went back to the great city where bluebell eyes and fair faces are ‘‘but a thing apart,” and not “man’a whole existence.” Many women had come and gone in John Ruggles* life since that youthful time, and he had been content to let them go; without companionship of women his life seemed complete. But now— Across the tall chimney tops romance called to him, flaunting a memory not unmixed with pain, of a grassgrown village stheet, a quaint old garden set back behind * cedar hedge; and about the garden in his memory

dream moved the girl Lillian. John Ruggles turned abruptly to press an electric button. He would humor his fancy, satisfy this clamoring Impulse, by a walk down that same village street, a peet> into the old garden which upon actual observation would undoubtedly lose its fanciful Charm. Lilllas had married Will; -poverty then mnst be her dower. Uncared for women do not as a rule grow in attractiveness. Reality should forever silence this tormenting memory, so inexplicably awakened. But first he must dismiss the new stenographer whose work his secretary had pronounced hopeless. Again John Ruggles pressed the electric button. II was the secretary who responded. "The new stenographer had not reported that day for business," he explained, "and her dismissal would be unnecessary. Realizing her own unfitness for the position, the girl had telephoned a resignation. Unbusinesslike to the last in method,” he added smilingly. The great man paused reaching for his hat. "I recall the young person." he said “She possessed at least the quality of respectful courtesy.” The secretary bowed. “With a personality quite too diffident for office work." he replied, “as one could tell from a glance of her eyes.” "Her eyes,” the casual remark came to John Ruggles like a flash of inspiration. Here was the solution of his awakened memory, the eyes of the little stenographer he suddenly recollected were strangely like the bluebell eyes of Lillies. “Life was unsatisfying,” he told himself as he crossed the marble floor of the railroad station, “wealth, power, what had they to do with happiness the elusive? Where might it be found?” The village street was unchanged, the familiar houses too, like those of yesterday Suddenly the man drew in his breath while his eyes widened as If seeing a vision. For about the garden moved gracefully a girl in white, and in her hair a rose. As he lingered unbelievingly, she came toward him, her bluebell eyes searching his across the hedge, then she smiled. “Oh I Mr. Ruggles,” his recent stenographer exclaimed, “you came away out to see me? I was obliged to resign my position,” she added flushing prettily, "because I had too long Imposed. My business education was too brief to he efficient. I have not been long alone in the world.” Across the face of John Ruggles flashed an understanding light All at once its lines of care seemed erased by some great inner Joy. “You,” he murmured, "are the daughter of Lillian ?” “You knew my mother?” the girt asked quickly. He smiled. “It is,” he answered, “as though Lillies herself were here beside me again.” The girl threw wide the gate. “T also am—LUllas.” she said, and John, Ruggles entered Into the garden. (Copyright, 1313. Western Newspaper Union*