A Heart's Awakening
There were the afternoon letters to dictate, which took her nearly an hour; and there were callers who kept her in the office until nearly five o'clock. When they had all left she sat for a moment, resting and reviewing the events of the day.
"I wonder if I've done right," she queried. "He will succeed me and do great things for Roma, but O, I wish I could help him. I wish I dared let myself love him as he deserves. I wish I were one of the softer, clinging women, made to love a man and to depend on him for happiness. After all, they are the fortunate ones. But,—what am I saying? Brace up, Gertrude Van Deusen; don't be a sentimental girl! You've prided yourself on your independence of mind and heart. At your age, to be thinking of a man,—and one whose ideal is so far from what you know yourself to be! I'll go to Europe this winter and stay a year. I'll soon get back to my old spirit, and cease to think—"
The telephone rang.
"Well?" she asked.
"There's been an explosion down back of your house among the street-department's tools," some one was saying. "Two men were hit by flying rocks and hurt, we fear badly. One of them was a laborer,—"
"And the other?" asked Gertrude quickly, her heart divining the truth.
"Was Commissioner Allingham. He had just come to inspect the work. May we take them to your house until we can get the ambulance and the doctors?"
"Take them there at once," she responded. "Get the doctors, but don't call the ambulances yet—until we know what to do with the men. I'll be right down."
She flew to her closet and hurried into her coat. At the door, her carriage waited and she gave orders to drive as fast as possible. Then she sat back against the luxurious cushions, trying to control the terror that had come suddenly upon her spirit. She no longer doubted and hesitated. The shock had revealed the depths of her own heart which she had not sounded. She came in a moment to know that love is not a feeling to be analyzed or nurtured or trained into growth; the thing she had been repressing and torturing into subjection suddenly became a divine, reverential passion.
As they drove through the tree-shaded streets she trembled lest John Allingham might already have crossed the mysterious boundary which separates the living from the dead, and she would meet only a life-long sorrow at her door,—a sorrow which would crown her life with sanctifying, uplifting influences, even though it crushed her heart and benumbed her soul. But even that, she realized, was infinitely better than the starving of love with which she had been cheating herself. She bent her head and prayed while the carriage rolled rapidly on under the overarching elms and up the graveled driveway to her house.
Once within she passed rapidly upstairs, unfastening her wraps as she did so, and going towards the rooms where she knew the injured men would be carried. They had been taken, she was told, to her father's old room, where the doctor was already with them. Dared she go in?
Throwing her wraps in at the door to her own apartment, she turned again towards the sick-chamber. And then she stood face to face with John Allingham.
"John," she sobbed. "O, John."
Taken by itself, it was a meaningless sentence; but it satisfied him. He held out his arms and she nestled into them.
"You are really not fit to walk alone," she smiled up at him after an eloquent moment. "Ask me again to walk with you."
So it fell out that on the eve of the next mayor's inaugural, there was a wedding; and all of Roma rejoiced with the couple who pronounced the holy vows. For the loving heart of the woman was to stand alongside the strong desire of the man; and all Roma would be guided and helped by the two.
Azalea
By ELIA W. PEATTIE
The first book of the "Blue Ridge" Series
Azalea is the heroine of a good, wholesome story that will appeal to every mother as the sort of book she would like her daughter to read. In the homy McBirneys of Mt. Tennyson, down in the Blue Ridge country, and their hearty mountain neighbors, girl readers will find new friends they will be glad to make old friends.
This book marks a distinct advance in the quality of books offered for girls. No lack of action—no sacrifice of charm.
Four half-tone illustrations from drawings by Hazel Roberts. Attractive cover design, $1.00.
The second title in THE BLUE RIDGE SERIES
will be published in 1913
| Publishers | The Reilly & Britton Co. | Chicago |
Books for Older Children by L. Frank Baum
The Daring Twins Series
By L. FRANK BAUM
In writing "The Daring Twins Series" Mr. Baum yielded to the hundreds of requests that have been made of him by youngsters, both boys and girls, who in their early childhood read and loved his famous "Oz" books, to write a story for young folk of the ages between twelve and eighteen.
A story of the real life of real boys and girls in a real family under real conditions
Two Titles:
The Daring Twins
Phoebe Daring
While preparing these books Mr. Baum lived with his characters. They have every element of the drama of life as it begins within the lives of children. The two stories are a mixture of the sublime and the ridiculous; the foibles and fancies of childhood, interspersed with humor and pathos.
Price, $1.00 each
| Publishers | The Reilly & Britton Co. | Chicago |
Bunty Prescott at Englishman's Camp
By MAJOR M. J. PHILLIPS
Take a boy away from the stuffy schoolroom and turn him loose away up in the jack pine country—the land of deer and bear and trout, and he will grow "fat and saucy"—as did Bunty. And if he is a wide-awake youngster he will find excitement aplenty—as did Bunty. Give him a rifle, a rod and reel, and a desire to know things, and, well—you have a story every boy will enjoy reading.
"Bunty Prescott at Englishman's Camp" is a story full of boy interest, written by a man who knows boys as he knows the woods and streams—a story no youngster can read without learning something new of the lore of out-of-doors—hunting, fishing, camping out.
Snappy cover stamped in three colors, and three-color
jacket. Illustrated by Emile Nelson. Price $1.00
| Publishers | The Reilly & Britton Co. | Chicago |