Jasper County Democrat, Volume 15, Number 76, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 December 1912 — IF LOVE GROWS COLD [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

IF LOVE GROWS COLD

How Henry Found the Way to Woman's Heart.

By VIOLA BRIDGEMAN.

“Then you are bound to leave us all tomorrow, Rose, and go to the city?” “Yes, of course, Henry,” a trifle impatiently. “What makes you want to go, Rose?” with deep tones in the voice. “Why? Henry! W'hat a question. Because I am just sick and tired of the same old thing day after day. I have spent all my life in this township, and I want to see something of the gay, happy world of the city,” and a stray moonbeam lighting up the girl’s face emphasized the youth and inexperience her words indicated. "Now, see here, Rose,” the man. broke in, speaking earnestly, and yet as one who was holding back a just resentment, “you just can’t know anything about the way folks feel in the city. I’ve been there, and, honestly, I can’t say I saw many happy ones. “Nonsense,” the girl said impatiently. “Of course there Is trouble there, but think of the things to see, the people to meet! Yes, I’m off,” and she smiled .absently as though in imagination she saw the thronged streets, all filled to her with throbbing interest and what she believed was real life.

All unseeing, she sat there in the soft August moonlight with Henry Joyce, whose love for her was such an every-day thing she had ceased to think about it, this pretty little Rose Hallem, daughter of one of the modern farmers of 1912. He did not forget it, nor could he release her, although he knew as yet her heart was unawakened. He, too, was one of the progressive farmers who believed in the dignity of agricultural labor, and had no longings for the congested life of a great community. Strong, earnest, true-hearted, he knew that this girl, reared in a simple country home, had no place among the dangers and temptations of a large city,

but he did not seem to be able to make her comprehend him. For a few moments they sat thus, as far apart in spirit as though the separation she contemplated had already taken place. Then he broke the silence by asking hesitatingly: “Will you give me something before you go, Rose? I’ve never asked you before, but if you are going to leave me I want something to remember you by.”

“Well, what is it?” she asked a little absently, for her thoughts were far away. “You know I love you?” Henry queried. “Oh, of course,” she returned carelessly, not noting the flush which stained the face of the young man, telling that the thrust had gone deep. “Well, I do, though you don’t seem to care much, and I want a kiss,” and while the words were abrupt, the tone was not. Rose turned a little startled, but smiled. After all, Henry was like a relative; she had known him so long, ever since she could remember. Together they had attended school, although he was much in advance of her, and had gone together to all the merrymakings of the neighborhood. “Why, I suppose you can kiss me, just once, for goodly,” she said slowly, raising her face to his. Henry bent towards her. Quietly he laid his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. There was strength, devotion and sacrifice in his, if she had known how to read their message, but she was blinded by the mists ,of her fancies, anc It passed unheeded. Gently, reverently, the man bent and kissed her full on the lips. There was nothing to startle her in the kiss, but it was a man’s kiss, such as she had never received before, and to her surprise it thrilled her. Abruptly she drew back, her mouth trembling, her eyes dewy. “I hate to think of another man touching your lips, Rose,” Henry said gently. “I know I am the first since you were a little girl, and then I guess it was me who did the most of it then in the games, wasn’t it?” Rose nodded, she could not speak, and Henry looked at her keenly before continuing: “There’s another thing I hate to

think of, and that la my Miming any other girl.” „ “Why, Henry! ” Rose gasped. Somehow she did not like that idea herself. "And yet of course I will, just as some other man will kiss you,” he continued, keeping close watch of her expressive face, now fully revealed by the moonlight “You seem pretty certain of that,” Rose said sharply. “Well, why not? You are not the kind of a girl to go through life unmarried; you are too - pretty. Men will love and court you, and all will not fail like me.” “I don’t think it’s very nice for you to talk that way,” Rose said with the echo of a sob in her throat; but Henry went on. “There is nothing wrong in it, or I’d not connect it with you. I know i that people-can love and turn to other--1 ers, and certainly while you do not yet love, you will become fond of some | one some day.” Disregarding the latter part of the j sentence, Rose asked a little bitterly: “What makes you so sure about people who love turning to others?” If the girl had been looking at Henry she might have seen a slight change in his expression, but her eyes were bent on her twisting fingers, so she missed it. "Why, I’ve seen it often, and I know I’m not going to sit down and fret out my heart when you’ve gone.” Startled now, Rose looked him fairly in the face, saying abruptly: “I don’t understand you.” “Don’t you? Well, don’t say anything about it, but if you won’t have me, I’m going to start visiting the Corners.” Rose’s eyes opened wide with indignation. Of all the girls of the township, Lizzie Deigler was the only one who could be considered in any way her rival. Rose knew that Lizzie had tried more than once to attract Henry when he went to trade at her father’s store at the crossroads. “I didn’t know you liked her,” Rose faltered.

“Neither did I until I knew you were going away. My farm needs a mistress, I want a wife. When I built that little cottage up there on the knoll, Rose, I thought of you all the while. You know I planned every inch of it for you. Because of you I put in the improvements, and installed an electric motor so you could have water in the house. Oh, yes. Rose, that cottage was built for you, but if you won’t have it, and the man who goes with it, perhaps I can find some one else to accept,” and to Rose his words seemed utterly heartless.

She turned that she might see the cottage, which commanded a splendid View of the entire neighborhood, and was located on the farm adjoining her father’s. She had followed its building, knowing very well that Henry intended it for her. While it was being built she had fully intended to become its occupant, and then a chance visitor at a neighbor’s house had filled her girlish thoughts with city ideas. Her parents’ consent had been hard to get, but now all her plans were laid. Still, the thought of Lizzie in that little home was very distasteful. “I guess I’d better be going,” Henry said pleasantly, rising and offering his hand. “You’ll want to get to sleep early, and, anyway, I’ve got to drive over by the Corners for some grub. I do run out of things so.” Rose jumped to her feet. Already he was giving her rival a place in his thoughts. A wave of jealousy swept over her, and with it the realization that nothing really counted hut the love of this one man. With a little cry she held out her hands, asking piteously: “Don’t you love me the least bit any more, Henry?” Instantly his arms were about her, his cheek pressed to hers, and his voice hoarse with emotion was whis-' pering: “A bit, dearie! Why, with my whole; life.” Then, a moment later, he commanded, “Kiss me,” and she complied, resigning with that kiss all her plans for a life in the city, for Henry had found the way to her woman’s’ heart.

(Copyright, 1912, by W. G. Chapman.)

The Thought of Lizzie in That Little Home Was Very Distasteful.