Rensselaer Journal, Volume 11, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 June 1901 — Story of a Boy. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Story of a Boy.

BY JULIA TRUITT BISHOP. Author “Deborrah of Lost Creek,” etc. (Copyright, 1901, by Dally Story Pub. Co.) She was listening to the uniformed graybeard at the window, bending toward him a little with an air of charmed interest that warmed the heart under the gold braid. Fluttering down to them the length of the drawing room came the hostess, that foolish little Mrs. Lessing, and they heard her saying to the gentleman beside her, while she was yet far off: “Oh, I’ve just found you in time, and it’s awfully awkward, but you know how people are always disappointing you at the last moment You were to have gone down to dinner with Clare Rigdon, and Mrs. Harding with Rayatond Blaine, and neither of them came - so sorry ’’ The girl at the window had not •hanged her position in the least. She •till leaned over the arm of her chair toward the uniform, but the General was suddenly conscious that the lovely young face had lost something of its hoior. "Oh, Mrs. Harding,” cried Mrs. Lessing, as the girl stood up and smiled graciously at her hostess; "so awk- > Ward for a husband and wife to go out to dinner together—people disappointed me— but would you let Mr. Harding take you out, just to oblige me?” I The hostess did not wait for a re»iy. but took General Blake’s arm and led him away. The two were left •lone, both standing in the shadow of the window curtains. She was twisting the silken fringe of the drapery between her fingers. She did not look a him, but she saw that the hand resting on the back of the chair from which she had risen was shaken. ’’Since we are within full view of a number of our dearest enemies,” she •aid with a scornful smile, still not looking at him, “It might be as well to play the farce out and 100k —well— •ay. decently Interested in one another. People will discuss us soon enough.” The hand on the chair was suddenly ■toady. "With all my heart,” said the gentleman lightly, as he placed a chair

•ar her further back in the window embrasure, and took another, dose at hand. "We will disappoint them for once." She looked beyond him, at the throng that danced and promenaded and walked down the long succession of rooms. She looked anywhere but at him. . "While it is really awkward." she said with a bitter voice and a charming smile, “for a husband to be forced to take his wife out to dinner, still, one may live through it under certain circumstance One has but to remember that ft is the last time he will ever be afflicted with her presence, aad much mar bo boras, ftaalty 1 searoe-

ly expected to see you here tonight. Was I not led to suppose that you ware to start for Europe today?” “I start tomorrow instead,’’ ha replied, coldly. “'Fhe delay was fortunate. It gives me the opportunity to defer a nine days’ wonder for yet another day. Let us do it thoroughly, while we are doing it. .What shall we discuss that will bring a pleasant expression to our faces; that will -make us seem not merely tolerant of one another, but absolutely absorbed, devoted ” “Let us talk of Love,” she said, with a burst of scorn and despair that lent a crimson over her pale face. "Remembering our desolate home — my

desolate life—wa can surely talk of that” "You are right," he said, leaning a little nearer. “We will talk of love.” She shrank away from him a little, but at the same moment she smiled and nodded at Mrs.' 1 Leasing, who passed near. "Love," he repeated. “What a difference It makes in people’s lives! You and I have agreed to say good-bye—-have already said it, in fact, and ,we can afford to discuss love impersonally. —I am afraid you are not bmllng enough. I notice two or three) people looking this way.” She smiled Immediately; suc|i a smile as comes to the lips after, the heart is broken. 1 [. “Don’t be afraid,” she said, "I Will play my part. lam deeply interaited. You may go on with the one subject in which you may be considered horoughly versed." “Thanks," he said, easily. '’SMfUI I tell you a story, In order to make It strictly Impersonal? I will taU you the story of a Boy." She moved a little, enough to* drop her cheek to her hand. “Of course there was a GirL" he went on; “but I will leave her Jut of the story as far as I can. I yr|ll tell you the story of a Boy, because I know his story—because I have seei into his wild, undisciplined, unformed boy heart, and have watched it make great mistakes, and repent of them without words, and slowly break.—Are you ■till smiling? I can’t see your face, but those people out yonder can, and we are playing the farce for them.” “I am smiling,” she said, without moving. “The Boy fell in love,” he said. “He was very young, and bad been raised without a mother. I am afraid he was a mere selfish brute, aad when he wanted anything he had to have it He saw the Girl, and loved bar, and would have waded through blood to win her—and won her. I think he was selfish, even in winning her, but he wa* beginning to be unselfish—he was beginning to be a nobler Boy—and there wa* great need of it You a*S bo loved her—he loved her too much. Ho wa* unreasonable. I have looked into hi* heart aad I know that bow.

He was half Boy and half savage, and thought hlrdself a man, whose judgment was always good, and who was always right He thought that he was always good, and who was always right. He thought that he was to be regarded always—he didn’t think of regarding her. “ And yet, he loved her —in some blind, unreasoning way, such as beys have. And because he loved her he kept hastening on to his doom, and dragging her with him. He couldn’t wake up to the fact that he was slowly killing love in her. It is one of the Saddest things, that people who love one another truly and tenderly can live to be alienated, isn’t it? But that is what happened to the Boy. He was young—they were both young—and he was undisciplined—and love was hurt with jar and fret! Over and over again they passed through storms which left them cast ashore in a desert land. They said bitter, heartbreakinc things to one another, and it was because the Boy lowed her that the bitter things hurt and rankled. And so at last he rose up and said, ‘This is enough—l will end it I will go away today and will never trouble you again.” He paused, and she stirred a little, but he could not see her face. “And so, he went down to the boat’’ he said, steadily; “but even when hie foot was upon the gangplank he turned back and stood leaning against something in his utter misery, because he had all at once grown to be a mtn, and was suffering all a man’s agofly. That is the end of the story of the Boy—except that the man looked up and saw that foolish little Mrs. Lessing .waving her hand at him from a carriage, and remembered that both of them—he and the Girl —were to have been her guests tonight And such a hungering came upon him to look upon her face again—that he cam —knowing that by tomorrow he mignt summon strength to go ’’ fNed?” , Bhe raised her face and looked at him. Her lips trembled like a hurt child’s, even while she was smiling at him. I’Ned,” she murmured, brokenly; “the Girl was very young and inexperienced. Don’t you think she ought to have a chance to try over again?— Aid you didn’t know that she was in the boat, —hidden away—and that she came very near being taken to Europe very near indeed when you turned back so suddenly ” • • • "Isn’t it beautiful to watch Mr. and Mrs. Harding?” asked the lady at Mrs. Lessing's right. "They are llke*cwo young lovers. Do they know they are at the table? Do they know there is such a thing as food in the world? They have done us all the honor to forget we are living!” But Mrs. Lessing did not reply aloud. She merely looked, and her eyes were sparkling and brimming. “I may be foolish, but I can manage some things,” she whispered into her fan.

She took General Blake's arm.

“Ned"