Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 10, 1922)
. < ontii'iKst I rtmi l’a*P N'lrn.i Wan he on guard? Had she called up before him the image of at leas' one woman he had known? ltoen* le n would have given her hope In L« aven In that mom* nt to know what was passing behind thus young rajah eyes . . she shiv vied unn* *• •untahly when he spoke. That’s one kind of woman,” h said simply, **I partieularlv don t rare for. And that wa* all. All at once Kosuleeu found she couldn't ask him about Mrs. Hewitt any more definitely than that She had meant to She hail led Up to and around ftie subject with all the subtlety of which she was capa ble She had wrung from him the , story of his life. Sh** had pLaced him with regard to Los Angeles .... he had been there, not more tti in a year or two before. . . . he might, he must have known Irene Hew*tt at that time. One kind of woman lie purlieu larly didn’t cart for. . . . his only I comment on Uosaleei,dry etched portrait of the lady. Rosaleen had only to say now, quite easily. "O, by the way -did you ever meet in Ia>h Angeles a pci _ r m>n named Hewitt—Irene Hewitt? ’ And everything would in* made clear In his answer. Only Honnleen couldn't do it. Cowardice*—or what? She sprang up and gave him her strong little hand to follow. "(retting late." site said—"and to morrow is another day. Take me buck to the hotel. . . " He protested,"A re you really tired?” "Not in the least.” .-aid I'.osaJeen “Only sleepy.” They went hark, through n de li htfully drowsy world, intimatu stranger-, slipping faster every sec nnd into an intimacy in which •grangeness had no more jsirt. N* t dry* was Saturday and tin 1 sinning of the house party ai Ji m.ima hay. Creighton had offered tin house party, which included ii"*r» ly flic Heaths. K«»salcen and ]■ • u> If I think you’ll like it out then . h had said—"Swimming and *11 t if. There's ail old voting* --a man T '■ now said we might use it if w» vl for the Weekend. It's prett\ I* imltU» Tl,e lhnths were enthusiastic'; so is Resale, n. though she had an » is.stent premonition that if sin v 'rf n't to see Creightgp always— i might be well to begin and see ) s- of him at once Things, sin r alized. were marching—might get *’ * j 'say from her control sooner or 1 Uer , . However, tin four of them drove* v or m Creighton’s car late Sat ur eal .ft* moon, nnd got to tin place isi before sunset. Hunatna bay lies swe et 1>\ cursed ? slew in the Oahu coast line Tow « i ,nt; cli:s shut It away from the on vide world but past the mouth ef it many ships go by, wind jam nti r- and lint rs. sampans nnd chunk little inter-island steamer.-, about tln'ir business—which is i*i«* lit full \ n in (fold. The only path load* down the face i the cliff neat< si Koko crater. Al th>' bottom of the path, which is zigzag ami none too tame, one comes suddenly upon a padlocked gate and a elutterish shuck, tie abode of a wizened Japan" » tislu-i man who is at > the caretaker of tit ' eottakc farther along Tip' plm • has an air of weird enchantment, untrodden white sands, wind blown kiuwe trees leaning all one way and .- all awry—well hack from the high v. iter mark the cottage, gray ami eldritch anil gaunt, si a bitten, wind racked ... a proper abode for "t in. piratical ghosts with daggers in their teeth rnd blood red ker chiefs tied about thor heads. There was a kitchen anti an old wood stove—amazingly Incongruous . . a room with a watery mir rr and a lumpy bed, wliero the two girls changed to their swimming suits, gloating meanwhile over the incredible romance of the place. "My dear." whispered little Mrs. Heath with a sigh of happy laugh ter. “you may go all around the world, but you'll never tlnd a more thrilling spot nor a more interest tng man—if you ask me! I should call this . . ." "A memory in the making, said Itoaaleen—more blithely titan she felt. They swam in a sort of natural pool to which one threaded one's way between black coral arabes ques set In shallow green water - a clear pool, a cold pool, tinged with the dying rose of sunset. Afterward a wild breathless race along the beach with the wind chill on smooth w'et legs and aims. . . . Itoaaleen let herself go. She floated in happiness like a (kick of foam cresting a wave. She tingled to her fingertips to see the look that a wont of hers, the glancing contact of her hand could call Into Creighton's eyes. Site deliberately tiling into the « tit of the place. When he built a 11re In the funny little old wood t-•-•••"■ to heat coffee for Iheit sup p::\ she -sa.'d llugcrlt >j jt Ills el bow—"It's like being shipwrecked or somethin;.: -on a desert island — the n Mt beautiful sen.se of—isnla lion!" "You lik<‘ it?" ho asked her straight^ -"Is ing—almo- t clone - together . . . like this?" I love it," said Itosaben. "What a wonderful p« rsnn you’d b* —on a desert island' she milled hurriedly "You 1 no a al! about fire;; and eof fee and bacon and tilings. . ." "I’ve had to do for rnys If a lot. lie explained with a touch of hi* clmracteristic reserve. She set tin* table with wooden pi ites and tin forks and paper cups while he rattled stove Uds and swore gently at pans that didn’t get hot as fast as he’d have liked. "Where are the Heaths?" he called into the windy dusk, lit by one flickering yellow lamp, that wa^ their dining room. “flown on the bench watching th< stars come out,” said Fiona icon with a chuckle. "Honeyniooners are never guilty of crowding—don’t y«»u know that?” “That’s why I asked «m,” In* pointed out in an access of bold ness. “Why -Frank!” said Konaleen In to icently. Aftef supper they all sat on tie beach about a fire of driftwood and talked. Rack of them the lava cliffs mse grim and black and scornful, nit ting long jagged lines against t dark, char sky. The torch of the Japanese fish* naan who lived near the gate cast scarlet and amber gleams across the crooning shal lows of the reef. From time to time a dog harked—doubtless th“ same fisherman’s dog—falsetto clamor thin and far n|t*ay—freight ed with inhuman loneliness. The tir** sank and was built up again. Once a cloud came out of the smith, heavy and dadrk. flung a swift, hard spatter of rain acres** beach and bay and drifted on. Vftir a while Mrs. Heath an miiinced that she was sleepy and she and hr tall young husband strolled liai'k to the nhoatly i-nttnpr ' Rosalcfii and Francis Creighton a* fai beside the tire uud Rosa it |0S In-art at least beat heavily •This place this place is—out • the world—” sin- said at last. “it's mi kind of a place,” In told her I wanted to s* e Vi-ii b it.” His sllV lloHH had til*' llll''Xprt Ini .i« eompaj'in.ent of dirt cl m ss, strik ing home without preliminary. “it. isn't because you haven't known cities is it?” fenced Rosa ieen. “it’s because I don’t like ’em,” lie answered—"for more than a month or so at a time.” ‘ Could you live—in a jdaca lik** this - Francis?” He leaned nearer—sin1 had just as well have put out a hand to draw him, and she knew it. . . . “Not in it—but near it—where l could get to it when I liked. Could you—live in a place lik• • 'his IP saleen?” She wanted on .1 wild surge of emotion t-1 er> out ‘ I could with you.’" Tin words leaped in her heart Rut she had set her 'oth and held herself sternly. ‘ Wh.\ do you ask m ? ' sh» said “You think I’ve gone crazy, don't you?” he laughed shortly. “No wonder! Well maybe l lmv« —bin there it is’ Tt’s as much a fact as if I had known you all my life. You might need time t<» believe m All tile time there is toiildn't mak what I’m telling you any more permanent couldn't change it on iota. . . ' What arc you tolling me. ask*«t Kosaleon shakily and In Id her breath to h» ar. ‘Tin telling you l lov« you," aid I'Yaneis Creightpu simply, and in the firelight Rosaleen saw the Mo«mI sweep up over his face to the edge of his smooth dark hair. That flush of his moved her to the point of a horrible lump in In i* throat and a sudden sting under the eyelids. She got up and walked away from the fire, down the beach to the edu** of the water, fighting back a weak desire tc* cry. It would all have been so perfect . . . ho exquisitely the ultimate moment of which ev» r\ girl dreams . . . except for Mrs. Hewitt and her black-lwt wireles. How could she give love- -without trust? And how could you trust where your confidence had been, t«> begin with, ho hideously under mined? Adventure was all very well —but how could it he mon • until one knew—everything? When Creighton stood beside her Rosaleen lifted an unsteady little STllllv*. "No fair!’* she said, loathing her self bitterly for the filmy evasion. "No fair saying things like that to me—in a place like this. You know my grandmother came from Ire* Lirnl . . . I've got a hunger and thirst for romance that’s almost a curse to me . . . anything I’d sny to you tonight in this witches* haunt you could take with a fistful of salt tomorrow morning. . . .'* ' Then say it tonight—anyhow!" .-mid Oreight* n huskily and caught bet du e : nd almost kioetl her. Almost—because she flung herself swiftly sidewise in his hold and hid her face against his shoulder, laugh ing in a hr >ken whisper. “The eye —have—it!” she gasped. “Haven't they?s**0. dear! please— please” He half released her In sins r p« r ploxity —“I don’t Know what you mean.” She could feci his heart, hard driven— it tried her own control. “Your eyes—" she said, “I know you were like this—from your eyes —it's your mouth that’s shy . . .” * Then she realized the ter rifying possibilities of the thing she had just said and broke away from him altogether and fled back up the beach to the cottage, breath less between laughter ami tears. He caught ner long before sh* came to tlje sb pa ami held her with a hard grip on her arm. His face was a pale blur In the darkness. “You're not afraid of me?” he de manded low voiced and shaken “Not that!” “My dear,” said Ttofutlcs n, “I’m afraid of myself! I don’t want to talk aln»ut—you and me- tonight nor yet tomorrow will you—wait. MHnw long?" She made a swift, stumbling men f.il calculation "Until—until Thursday.’' "That’s only two days liefore you leave—Rosaleen *’’ ‘T can’t help it—I’ve—I’ve got to have time.” ‘I know—it’s the most awful cheek in the world lor me to suppose you’d—care—knowing me just a week and all that!" "It isn't cheek—at all! I'm frightfully afraid I—" "Say it!" he 1 egged —that, tender drawl was hard on Rosa icon's d termination. "Can't you say it just once!" “I don’t know it’ I could hut 1 won't!" said Kosaleen. "Kino thane I’d have if I said it—once! No—if you lik. to wait—until Thursday He said grimly "l don’t like to rail— you can't possibly suppose tha< f do. P.ut if that’s my only hop* Mind you it isn't a promise! said Kesri!* on. "It’s enough t«» make it a long! four days." said Creighton doe godly. ‘Never mind!'' said Kosaleen ‘perhaps you’re not-” She stopped there and he could not induce her to finish it. Sir had been going to say pm haps h< was not the only one to whom that four days would bo* long -hut on second thought she reft lined. A touch of wistful caution! They went back to Honolulu late* the next afternoon after a lovel\ lazy clay on that lonely 1* acli. after hours in a ci-yst.illinc sea. and the gipsyish delightful discomfort of meals scrambled together on the small wpod stove. Creighton was as good as his word. He waited, without refer enee to the scone of the night in fo re. He was comradely con sic l e l ite*. altogether delightful-- hut in sa.'d no more of loin . OnI> going back ••gain up tie* tortuous footpath that sealed the side of the cliff, with tin I baths .1 enthoental distance ahead, assist mg ea h other assiduously c’reigb ton asked one question ‘‘This doesn't mean I’m not t< s.'o you between now and Thursday four whole days . . . ?" "No sa d Ilosaleon With ai unconsciously caressing chuckle tout* whole flays sliould • bl .«• k«k* 1 out—is there?" "liven •** he pointed nut. on gagingly embarrassed — " sen — if it’s to i*f* like the old saying >•" know?—'The condemned man ate • hearty breakfast. "Kven— if it's to b* like that! said Rosa I tn. One* again, c*ddly, sh» felt the st!ng of unwilling tears, edging her laughter. That night sh* slept scarcely a' all and ne xt morning early she sent a cable to Mrs. Hewitt m care of the Studio. The message read; "e' ibln ex. planatiou Creighton whiles-; as soon is possible most imiH*rtant:" It was signed wdh her full name. Rosiilecn Clancy. After which she sat down to wait until—perhaps. Thursday — bavin allowed herself a larg margin • » tune for delays. Ir was not easy waiting. Tie night on the beach, the moments beside the driftwood tire had about finished Kosaleen’a transition from romance to reality. She • ast hack persistently and in vain for any thing in h*»r brlc-f. colorful life that should equal the overwhelming surge of the present moment. Other men faded into unimportanc* beside Creighton. I Tow had she ever supposed they mattered?. . . and . . . if the cable she was wait in for should hold, when it came, thing unforgivable—and unforgetubl* - ho\v waf anyone or anything 01 my place in the wide, gre n world ever to matte* agaifi? (t was—-for poor Ko. Hp-m, bad a** that. She saw i v.'ighton every night. Tile;.* went on 'our, nheies • drives a' i i o’:r-’ ’ ti. .*• rtftl hoc with but the shadow of a sickening constraint between them. Rosa lorn felt like a jiulas in petticoats when he said, leaving her. at mid night «»n Tuesday. . . . “There's nobody here whose advice you can pvt, even—-to there! I know that, it’s asking you to take an awful chance . . ” It' ho knew -of the cable sent— and the cable fui which she was waiting! Then was pride in those beautiful eyes of his as well as passion. Wednesday Rosnleeii found her hands shaking and her eyes sha dowed. tfhe had tried iiot to look for an answer from Mrs. Hewitt on Tuesday—any woman would need time to answer a thing of that sort. Time to word her disclousures carefully. . . time to damn a man definitely jet with rtih regard to ln r own safety. . . But Wednesday—surely it might have coins Wednesday morning! It didn’t—nor yet, Wednesday afternoon nor Wednesday night. “Tomorrow I get my answer," said Creighton, going up the deserted hotel steps with Rosaloen about l o'clock Wednesday night. Ho showed the strain ns well as she. His smile had a forced quality, his voice a slight husk. Kosaleen asked at the desk for mail—“Has—anything come at all?" “Not a thing. Miss Clancy," the clerk assured her, disinterestedly. "Tomorrow," said Rosaleen to Creighton nervously, and would not meet his good night look. She breakfasted late Thursdnj morning in her room and spent tin dn> there in on agony of waiting Bj luncheon she was sick with ap prehension. It seemed impossible to endure another afternoon of stis peiise—but endure it she did \.t i Creighton telephoned. Tie ring set her heart going unbeara bly. He asked without preliminary. "What time may r come for you tonight?” "At—S. 1 thmk. Haul Kosaleen. “Thanks! Shall we—just-drlv "I think so.” said Kosaleen. “You sound tired.” "I'm not— “she bit back a sol*, horrified at her own lack of con ml. He persisted anxiously "An- you sure ynu're all tight'.’ Quite sun ?' “Quit*- sure.” said !h-sal'* n m*»i* « I• arly. Hood In Fra ill: - “ and hung up flu* receive r . . . just l*» for** she dropped down jn a la willow chair to < ry her heart out. She was exquisite, to tli* last shilling hair, and had made a in tense of dining when he »ann f«.i her at exactly s that night. She fancied he looked pah—oer lainly his hand was a tnfh cold, hut, then, so was her own. II** said diffidently: "Ready? Don i you want a wrap—or something”' “I shan’t mod anything.” said Rusal* > n. ‘It’s a lovely night fm a drive—isn’t It?" She couldn’t have told, however, it there were stai* or storms in the sky. A hoy. slant eyed uni impnssiv* ran after them and stopped them c flu head of tin steps. ll« Inn a slim yellow - nvelofM in one hand "Cable— for Vliss Clancx !“ lie u• i«•« cheerfully. “Thank you. said Rosaleen. put ring out her hand automatlcall.x. and took it. So well do the fates sometimes stage their little com tteiies. "If you’ll excuse me—just a moment—I’ll have to sec .about this.", she said, went hack to the elevator, and left Creighton stand* ing. an erect, quiet figure, waiting for her in the lobby. In her own room Kosaleen tore the end from the envelope with lingers that trembled so she could scarcely command them. She was breathing like a runner who feels the c«»r«l almost under his hand. She whispered, "O. God—please! . .*' and shut her eyes for the space of a second. Then she 'pi ned them and all at once the sweetest look in the world came over her face. Her mouth quivered info \ funny little smile. "Here goes!" she said, and walked to the open window. There was i strong trade blow ing. Kosalei n. looking out across the dim Pacific into darkness, light i^l tally with stars, tore Mis. Hew itt’s cable gently into a great many tiny pieces that fluttered away and were gone—unread. After which she went down to the lobby once more and met Cr» igli* ton's unspoken question with an airy little gesture. "All sqt!" she said. "Sorry I had to keep you waiting!" •Where would you like to go?” asked Creighton, once more on the way to the door, but his eyes asked something else of her with u pas sion and i hunger that it would have broken any woman's heart to pass by. "Take me to the loveliest spot you know." said the descendant of Irish kiues * with a mountain—and a q«.i and lots of flowers around . . too bad there’s no moon to night, isn't it'."' "Why?" asked the must interest ing man in Honolulu pausing at the foot of the steps and tightening desperate fingers about the slim, white arm he held. "Because—not to be too hold about it- I'm going to'say ves." said Miss Clancy. "I’m a short sport not to have said it before! Where’s the roadster, dmiin"’ ♦ Of course. Honolulu was as far as she got on her way around the world . . . alone. 11 ’opy 1 ight. 192- 1 The Guide Post to Good Hooks for Children. Fhoose on* of tP* ■ • 'cl-rs to read each week. Perhaps- you had better cut the lint out oac h time and take it with you to your city library. Tt is prepared for the (lappylund boys and girl by Miss Mice M. Jordan, supervisor of • hildron's work, Boston Public Library. This week she suggests: Hutton M. n ' Littie Stories of !•*» anre." Frenc h All* u. of Rolf i nd th« Viking's Bow." 1 :ih-oil. ' • i: __ ‘ La- ' Fairy Talcs**' r.iu«lsa\ \! id A SI oi \ (jaldi-n . »r Little c ’hiidivn." Loud* a .lack, "Fall of the Wild. Htuart. It. M . "Stni y of Babette.'* in Interval**, N. TI., where Eunice Flmsney lives, there is a little bear and he will eat an ice cream cone right out of your hand. Dot Puzzle Can you Untah this yicuu*e/ 1. t<4* i-;< iifr- Ly HtttWiiiv a 'Tit'' I’iron !i the c ' i^iivrng w'lh Oi._ n.id iakii>sr thciu uuraerlcr-. '