Newspapers / Zebulon record. / June 4, 1937, edition 1 / Page 12
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minute, carrying out Lees ridiculous request, or was it bequest? “I would be the last person,” Alan broke in. ”to want you to do anything against your wish or your better Judg ment." His tone was grave, very delib erate. Louise felt his eyes upon her. She met them squarely. Was there a double meaning to his words? She couldn’t tell. But another question irked as it flashed comet- like through her mind. Did Alan know or did he not know the full portent of Lees letter, and just what had Lee written to Alan? She simply had to know. ’Aunt Carrie." she said, "if you and Philip will excuse us, I want to show Alan what an old-fashioned Southern garden is actually like on a Spring night. He has often tried to imagine one. he , says. Would you like to check up now?” She addressed Alan abruptly. "1 certainly would— love It! It will be something to think about when I ride around acres and acres of wheat and alfalfa out Montana way —or among the sagebrush.” DUT Louise did not allow tire scent of lilac and hyacinth, heady and sweet In the cooling breeze, or even the witch ery of a Southern moon to divert her from the main purpose of this little pil grimage into the garden. Side by side and silently they passed under the arch in the boxwood. Louise heard Alan draw in his breath, then sigh deeply. She sensed that the garden had touched him profoundly. Even she. who was used to its enchantment, felt un usually sensitive to its charm tonight. It was unutterably still Louise could feel her own heart beating. She loved this man. She did, she did! Way down Inside she had suspected It for many weeks, but she had put the thought from her without giving it a label. Sh felt her face burn under the cool of the night air as she said in an unac customed, high-pitched voice: "Did Lee tell you what he had WTitten to me?” “No,” said Alan soberly. "Bur what ever it was, it has changed you.” He looked down at her and Louise knew that he wanted to see her face. Determinedly she evaded that scrutiny. “This after noon," he went on then, “I thought you were glad I had come. I even thought that you liked me a little. But appar ently I was mistaken. Tonight you seem annoyed at my very presence here. I— l just don’t understand what you . . Did Lee . .” He broke off abruptly and stared straight ahead. “Perhaps," said Louise, "If you were to tell me first what Lee wrote to you it would straighten matters out for both of us. This^sfternoon you said fn«re were tw o reasons why you *ame < the was to deliver the letter. Just what was the rttVloi* onol’ 1 A FITTING MEMORIAL - * t 1. V A Voice From the Trenches in France Sent Louise Into the Arms of Another Man rWAS the afternoon before Memorial Day. Louise Norris was In the sunny old box-hedged garden cutting long etemmed red and pink tulips, white and pink hyacinths, purple and white lilacs. She had promised the chairman of the Cemetery Committee that she would send a goodly supply of flowers to help deco rate the graves. It was very still, and Louise paused suddenly, to stand dreaming with a far away look In her big violet-blue eyes. It was here that she and Lee had grown up together. Where the magnolia tree now stood there had once been a sand pile. It was here that Lee had told her what she had always known, what everybody In the old North Carolina town knew —that Lee Robinson loved her. It was here that he had told her good-by that April day after hls enlist ment two years ago when he had left for an officers' training camp. And It was there on the white stone bench under the magnolia tree that Lee had said good-by again on a clear, cold, shining November day Just after he had been ordered to France to help make the world safe for democracy. Such a gallant and handsome young lieutenant of field artillery he had looked in hls smartly fitting new uniform. Louise was never to forget that last brave smile as he passed through the garden gate. “Mis' Louise, honey, you all must come quick," an excited voice called. OTARTLED, Louise turned to see the faithful Negro servant of more than twenty years come panting down the flagstone walk from the big Colonial red brick house. "What has happened Sally? You look as If you had seen a ghost" “Honey, hit's no ghost. t4>t the tallest., handsomest, Uveat mao you ever laid cheeks and splashed onto the letter. Then, In a sudden gesture of anger, she flung the letter to the floor, Jumped up and began pacing back and forth across the room. She would never consent to such sn arrangement. It was Sbo utterly fan tastic. n a *4ll using that Je» had. been rteht about Alan's caring, hf>w could she ever be sure, now that he had ”He was the only sweetheart I ever had.” I«uiv> said at la«ft as she looked at Alan B|\/^ pr '"p* Ik Ilf %... ,r ** n lpllM|pr i ; " U * * \ •» m 4
June 4, 1937, edition 1
12
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