Seeing the Story Girl slipping away with a disapproving face I
joined her.
"What is the matter, Sara?" I asked.
"I hate to hear them talking like that about Miss Reade and Mr.
Dale," she answered vehemently. "It's really all so beautiful--
but they make it seem silly and absurd, somehow."
"You might tell me all about it, Sara," I insinuated. "I wouldn't
tell--and I'd understand."
"Yes, I think you would," she said thoughtfully. "But I can't
tell it even to you because I can't tell it well enough yet. I've
a feeling that there's only one way to tell it--and I don't know
the way yet. Some day I'll know it--and then I'll tell you, Bev."
Long, long after she kept her word. Forty years later I wrote to
her, across the leagues of land and sea that divided us, and told
her that Jasper Dale was dead; and I reminded her of her old
promise and asked its fulfilment. In reply she sent me the
written love story of Jasper Dale and Alice Reade. Now, when
Alice sleeps under the whispering elms of the old Carlisle
churchyard, beside the husband of her youth, that story may be
given, in all its old-time sweetness, to the world.
CHAPTER XXV
THE LOVE STORY OF THE AWKWARD MAN
(Written by the Story Girl)
Jasper Dale lived alone in the old homestead which he had named
Golden Milestone.
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