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Show j SHORT STORY OF THE DAY i j LOVE'S AWAKENING. (Continued from yesterday.) "Why does he not go upon his way?" thought the maiden as she stooped over the lush-leaved primroses growing -by the little rill, snapping their crisp stems without a single scientific qualm for the lives thus laid low. "But 'tis his duty after all, to lock me out again, as 'twas ' his courtesy which let me In. By rights, I should not hinder him." But the young man was not unpleasant unpleas-ant company and withal somewhat useful, use-ful, for a willow stem fights for its ' blossomy head, enduring the stripping of its young skin and the sacrifice of Its soft, almond-scented blossoms one by one rather than yield, and a pocket-nlfe pocket-nlfe Is seldom among the gewgaws of a maiden, i The picking of violets is a slow, perfumed per-fumed pleasure, and even the aid of a young man may sometimes fall to hasten has-ten It. I The bluebells were out when May was yet young, and the floor of the wood was gorgeous with the blues and greens 1 of nature's enameling. The young man fcad prophesied it with a note of interrogation, inter-rogation, and the maiden, had recog- .nlzed the note and promised to verify the prophecy. I The Sun God was more ardent than in the time of the primrose, though in I leafy shades were stronger In their-protective power; the whole air was warm- er and more heavily scented, and filled i with a faint hum of Insects which had been lacking before. "If all were as it should be" began be-gan the maid, smiling. TfiJJ. young man looked down at her as slfe sat upon a tree trunk with a sheaf of languid! bluebells lying across her lap. "If all were as it should be?" he queried, que-ried, and waited. "Then you should prove to be the lM""""MM"""" 1 squire of high degree." And the maid laughed out, amusedly. "And you," he . added, "the wilful heiress or the beggar maid." "And we should both" "Love one another." "Instead of which" she continued. "I am but the rich man's steward." "And I a mediocre teacher of music and painting; and we both of us probably" prob-ably" "Love someone else." . They both laughed whole-heartedly, and looked away at the growing bluebells, blue-bells, and the thoughts of each wandered, wan-dered, all tenderly, to the "someone else." "She is so" he began, In gentle musing. . "Ah, yes. tell me of her." "She lives far from here; but some day when I tell her" "You have not yet told her7" "No; I think she does not even guess. But when the time comes, when I am able" I "Ah, yes; ah, yes, I can understand it j all so well." He turned and looked at her with the gladness in his eyes which comes from a pent-up happiness and need of sym-I sym-I pathy. "And you?" he asked. I "It is the same with me or much the same. He Is far away and working; but I think that when the time comes If I choose" "He has not yet spoken?" She laughed, softly. "The days were so pleasant," she protested. pro-tested. "I did not wish to alter things. I was capricious, and I follow him. You can understand; I am fond of him, and was miserly over the telling." And the birds overhead twitted anxiously anx-iously of family cares; but the man and the maid had leaped toward friendship. friend-ship. e e e a When the nature of a man or a maid is such that he or she can speak with ease of their respective lovers, the opportunity op-portunity for such glad confidence Is rarely shunned. Flowers were so useful use-ful for the practice of the maiden's brush, so cheering as a decoration for her tiny home. And many times the kind young steward and the winsome teacher met beneath the notice board and passed through the gateway to the place beyond, speaking with placid smiles of many things, without avoiding avoid-ing the topic of their far-off, uncon-fessed uncon-fessed lovers. And day by day the seasons slid nearer near-er to one another, till spring and summer sum-mer met. . "There is time enough for the telling." said the teacher, half impatiently, pouting pout-ing at the realization of a past and a future. "There is time enough for, the telling," tell-ing," said the steward half Impatiently; the world outside the wood seemed so unnecessary now. The song of the blackbird was madly joyous; the wood was tuneful with the chorus of a hundred timorous fledglings, fledg-lings, and the round, rippling warbling of the thrush. "When the time comes" began the steward, as prosaicly as possible. But somehow he never finished his sentence. For he happened to glance at the teacher, and the teacher to glance at him. and then their eyes played them tricks, for something leaped Into them suddenly, and then they slowly filled with a great and honest surprise. "Oh!" gasped the teacher, faintly. "Oh!" echoed the steward, slowly. And then the blood rose to their brows, and their tongues faltered. But overhead, beyond the trees, the skies were smillng.and the eyes of the Sun of God twinkled with his mirth. Then the sounds and the scents of the land around about them quickened the words In their hearts. The order of the telling was unexpected, but the time for it bad come. Black and White. |