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Women and girls, having no interest outside their hearts, such as baseball and hockey and earning saleries, are more likely to hug Romanse to their breasts, until it is finaly drowned in their tears.
APRIL 27TH. After eight days I am at last alowed this Log or Journal, being supported with pillows while writing as Doctor Connor says it will not hurt me. He has just gone, and I am sure kissed Leila in the hall while Hannah and the nurse were getting pen, ink, etcetera. Perhaps after all Romanse has at last come to my beloved sister, who will now get married.
If I were to write down all the surging thoughts that filled my brain this would have to be a Novel instead of a Short Story. And I am not one who beleives in beginning the life of Letters with a long work. I think one should start with breif Romanse. For is not Romanse itself but breif, the thing of an hour, at least to the Other Sex?
"Three!" she said. "Why THREE?" "I had no more wool, and there are plenty of one-leged men anyhow." I would fane have returned to my book, dreaming between lines, as it were, of the Romanse which had come into my life the day before. It is, I have learned, much more interesting to read a book when one has, or is, experiencing the Tender Passion at the time.
It has some buttons off sombody's batheing suit tied to it." Here it was necessary to hide again, as father came stocking out, calling me in an angry tone. But shortly afterwards I was on my way to the Patten's house, on shaking Knees. It was by now twilight, that beautiful period of Romanse, although the dinner hour also. Through the dusk I sped, toward what? I knew not.
Is it but a matter of minutes since Leila found us there, and in a manner which revealed the true feeling she has for me, ordered me to go upstairs and take off Maidie Mackenzie's gown? I had forgotten that Maidie had taken her room. I shall now go to bed and dream. Of which one I know not. My heart is full. Romanse has come at last into my dull and dreary life. Below, the revelers have gone.
Is it not strange that Romanse comes thus into our lives, through the medium of a tea-cup, or an eclair, unheralded and unsung, yet leaving us never the same again? Even when Tommy bought us candy and carried mine under his arm while leaving Jane to get her own from the counter, I suspected nothing.
I could not account for this, and it troubled me. Because I felt this way. Romanse had come into my life, but suppose I was incapable of loving, although loved? Why should I wish to be embrased, but become cold and fridgid when about to be? "It's come to a Show-down, Bab," he said, ernestly. "Either you love me or you don't. I'm darned if I know which."
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