Jasper County Democrat, Volume 7, Number 7, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 May 1904 — A LOVE STORY [ARTICLE]

A LOVE STORY

Margaret Brockton never for an instant suspected herself of being a sentimentalist And yet there were throe years tohen Miss Brockton rivaled any okl time heroine of romance In her sentimental attitude. It happened In this wise. One day, when she was 28, there came to her a certain stalwart fellow she had known from Infancy and told her, what she already knew, that be loved her and wished to marry her. Miss Brockton, liking him exceedingly, well, realising how pleasant life might be made with his money, his name, his devotion to her and his companionship, and deciding that the ecstatic love of which poems and novels treated would never come to her anyway, accepted him. The engagement came out. duly; the cups and saucers came in. Margaret liked Jack Whittlestone a great deal and found the position of fiancee charming, and all was well. Then the villain appealed on the scene In the shape of Loais Radcliffe, Jack's cousin. Louis was a delightfully unmodern person who seemed to have taken for his model some of the early Victorian heroes. He was a combination of youthful romanticism, elderly Cynicism and other Interesting qualities. He bad a Buperb scorn of the conventions, a magnificent belief In himself and a corresponding amiable skepticism In regard to other people. He “Interested” Margaret greatly, she sold, at first. Then she ceased to say anything about him. Jack, not .being skilled In the ways of women, did not worry over.either hls betrothed’s speech or Its absence. H<j knew the new woman well enough not to assert hls rights and bid her have leas conversation with bis cousin, even hod he wished to do so. Liberty being the law of Margaret’s life and unsuspecting good nature of Jock's, the situation* had every chance to complicate itself. It did so promptly. Margaret, who had decided that fervid and ecstatic love was not at all likely to come her way, awoke one fine morning to the realization that the universe bad in it Just one man—Jack's Impossible, poverty stricken. Irresistible cousin. And Jack's cousin, who had laughed at Margaret*s feminine cynicism and pretense of coldness, felt that she and she alone could be the complement to hls life. They were both unhappy enough to give them credit for some good Intentions, but in the midst of their unhappiness they were supremely conscious of what a trifle misery was compared to the Joy of seeing each other. Margaret knew perfectly, in her few sane hours, that she dkl not wish to marry Louis Radcliffe. She realized that he would develop into a thoroughly undesirable sort of husband, even apart from hls poverty. “If only I could get over this,” she taoaned to herself, “at forty I should be wretched with him, at forty I should be comfortable if not madly happy with Jack. If only—if only I were forty nowP It was one day when she and Louis had sat for an hour staring ahead of them at the sea that the climax came. “Why don't you talk?" demanded Margaret, finding her heart beats oppressive. “Because I cannot say what I wish to," be answered. Then, of course, he proceeded to say the things which he Bhould not have said, and for a few minutes the sea and sky reeled before their eyes and they breathed as if in a trance, after which, according to the sacrificial modern manner, they decided to part, and the next day the community was startled to learn that the erratic Mr. Radcliffe was going to Europe. Then It was that Margaret showed how thoroughly lacking she was In the modern mercenary spirit she had always claimed. It gave her a mournful satisfaction to think that, though she could not marry Louis—who, to tel] the truth, bad not asked her to do so —she need not marry Jack. So she broke her engagement promptly and proceeded to Indulge herself in her great grief. She heard nothing of either of the cousins for a long time, for naturally her course of action with Jack had suspended communication between the families. For three years she was secretly as romantic as the most romantic schoolgirl. She thought of Louis constantly and pleased herself by imagining that he, In Egypt or Algiers or wherever he was, must know her thoughts. She was exceedingly happy with her grief. Outwardly she seemed much the same, but Inwardly she acknowledged the sway of love and Its power. One evening three years after Louis Radcliffe had gone away she went to a reception. A little, pudgy woman, overdressed and overgemmed, stood by her hostess' side. “My cousin, Mrs. Radcliffe, Miss Brockton,” said her hostess. And then, with sudden remembrance: “You must recall Mr. Radcliffe. He was Jack Whlttlestone’s cousin, you kn^v.” And then, as Margaret cordially Inquired after Mr. Radcliffe and said how she well remembered him, sentimentalism for the first time fell away from heV. From that moment she was the really skeptical and thoroughly “modern” woman she had always claimed to be.— New York World.