Jasper County Democrat, Volume 7, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 November 1904 — A CORNER IN PARADISE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A CORNER IN PARADISE

By KEITH GORDON

“What do you suppose Adam and Eve talked about?” inquired the girl In the Hongkong chair, with a yawn, as she settled her Burne-Jones proportions a trifle more luxuriously in the barbaric splendor of the pillows and clasped her large, shapely hands above tbe shadowy darkness of her head. “Love,” replied the man, with laconic promptness. “There wasn’t anything else for them to talk about, so far as I can see.” Miss Chesterton’s glance slowly detached Itself from the enchanting picture of turquoise water and topaz islands afforded by the oval opening In the curtain of vines that screened the veranda and rested coolly upon him. “There was the weather,” she argued sweetly, “and the birds and flowers.” “You forget that Adam was a man,” observed her companion, with just a perceptible stress upon the last word. A silence followed, In which the appalling beauty of a California August held them spellbound. Miss Chesterton drew a sharp breath; then she resumed the conversation once more. “All men don't,” was her somewhat incoherent remark. Dinsmore had the air of a man suddenly recalled to consciousness from a state of suspended animation. “Don’t what?” She flushed and looked Injured. Already the unpardonable sin loomed large in the perfect beauty of their small, quiet world. “Don’t forget what one’s talking about,” she retorted crisply. He gave an amused laugh. “You mustn’t lay it up against me,” was his contrite plea. “You see, I feel like a fly caught in the amber; like—like—by Jove, it’s too beautiful!" She nodded and again a silence fell, unbroken save by a wistful bird note. Meantime, slowly and painfully, measuring every Inequality with its yellow, jelly-like length, a slug crawled steadily along the garden path and up and over step after step until it gained the veranda where the two were sitting. Neither of them perceived the newcomer, though it was a fine, large specimen, fully eight Inches long and as large around as one’s thumb, of the sort sometimes sought for by easterners who like to carry the proof of their stories back, with them. It made

its way along the floor of the veranda and up one of the wicker legs of Miss Chesterton’s chair as if it recognized the woman as unerringly as did the serpent of old. A little scream broke the stillness. Coming back from a dreamy, sensuous contemplation of the passion flowers that hung like jewels among the dusky rafters of the porch, Miss Chesterton’s startled glance* fell upon the long, fat, glutinous snail stretched out upon the arm of her chair, as if enjoying a well earned rest after the prolonged trip from Its home at the root of the clump of calla Miles. “Gracious!” she exclaimed as Dinsmore leaned toward her questioningly. “How on earth did It get here?” “History repeats itself,” was his meaning reply as he watched the intruder, whose horns pointed upward in an aggressive fashion. “I hope you are Impressed by the fact that its errand is evidently with you. You will notice that it is perfectly contented there, and by the way it epens that little circular window in the side of its head I sbonld think it was listening for what yon might have to say.” For a moment they watched tbe slug curiously. Then a droll thought lightened her face like a flash of sunshine, and Dinsmore waited for an explanation. “I was thinking of Eve.” she said softly. “The sight of the serpent most have been as bracing as a tonic after the enervating beauty of Eden. No wonder that she listened. It's a positive Joy to rest one’s eyes upon such ugliness after, all this blinding beauty. Absolutely I’ve been fighting

tbe heartache—wrestling with a desire to moan and weep.” “And yet yon screamed at tbe sight of It” The -Words in themselves were Innocent enough, but tbe tone was thoughtful, and Dlnsmore's long, searching look gave them a significance that caused her to feel conscious and then redden with annoyance because she had done so. To divine that underneath his words might He an implication that her efforts to discourage bis suit meant no more than her startled cry at the appearance of the slug was womanly intuition. But to show that she had divined it was a very different matter, a break more worthy of some rustic schoolgirl than of Elolse Chesterton. He continued to gaze at her until she felt like an insect impaled upon a pin point for the benefit of an Interested student. At last she could endure It no longer. “Probably Eve screamed, too, just at first sight of the serpent!” she remarked desperately. Then, with an Inward groan, she wished she had not spoken. Dinsmore laughed out, a little note of triumph In his voice. “If you think so, I’m sure that she did,” was his reply. “Thank you for settling a point that was puzzling me.” Defiance sparkled in Miss Chesterton’s eyes. “Reading between the lines.” she observed, with much deliberation and apparent irrelevance, “is a misleading habit. For instance, take my own case. I mean what I say and nothing more. You can’t read between the lines, because there Is never anything to read.” At the words the slug crawled a little farther along the arm of the chair, as if something had made it uneasy. “Incredulity!” ejaculated Dinsmore In a suppressed voice, his head thrown back upon his chair and his eyes lifted to the passion flowers. His companion sat upright, looking at him with fiery scorn. He met her eyes brazenly. Never had he seen her appear so superbly beautiful. But he only said: “Don’t sit up like that in a Hongkong chair; it’s inartistic. Moreover, it’s ungracious, and a woman should never be ungraclofis!” “You're horrid, Ralph Dinsmore,” was the only reply she vouchsafed him, but he noticed that she sank slowly back upon the cushions. One couldn’t afford to look awkward In the eyes of any man, even n man that one fully Intends to refuse. The warm gold of the afternoon sunlight was gradually paling, and a chill was creeping stealthily Into the suave air. Dinsmore, recognizing the signs of late afternoon, looked at his watch. Just a half hour until the 5 o’clock boat would bear him away from this cornet in paradise back to San Fran cisco. He drew a small case from his pocket and calmly handed it to Miss Ches terton. “Y'ou like old jewels. See what you think of it,” his matter of fact comment. She obeyed him, drawing from the case a ring of quaint workmanship in which two beautiful pearls were imbedded. “Beautiful!” she exclaimed enthusiastically. “Exquisite!” But she did not look toward him. “What it is for and where did you get it?” she added, struggling to appear natural. For an answer he leaned toward her and took it gently from her clasp. Then he lifted her left hand and calmly placed it on the third finger, holding the hand firmly in his while he said authoritatively: “That Is what It Is for. As for the rest, it has been in the Dinsmore family for 200 years, worn always by the sweetheart and wife of the eldest son.” “But you haven’t asked me,” object ed a faint voice. “One doesn't bother about those details in paradise, beloved,” he murmured happily. “Adam knew that Eve was his, and by the same token I know that you were made for me.” The slug was squirming slowly t& ward the garden again.

SHE SANK SLOWLY BACK UPON THE CUSHIONS.