Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb 1914 - Sep 1916 (assorted issues))

58 THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE to Nelson's heated Love-making, admiring the many different ways he had of saying one thing. Sometimes, for an instant, as she Celt his hot breath on her cheek or the uneasy thrill of his kiss, the blank, chilly, frightened feeling would come back, but this was not often, and so the days slipped by, and it was spring. "A package, miss." "For me, James? O-o-o!" May Belle looked at the bulky, brown paper bundle eagerly. Then her eyes widened, and her breath came flutteringly from surprised, parted lips. With sudden desperate hurry, she jerked at the strings and pulled the wrappings aside. A white dimity dress stared up at her, creased from folding; a dress of unstylish fullness of skirt, clumsy and pathetic, spelling ' ' country ' ' in every awkward line ; a dress patiently sewed with fine, nearsighted, painful stitches. On the breast lay a note from ma. The girl read slowly : Dear May Belle — I made this for you to wear for Billy, but I'm sending it anyway. Every stitch in it means a prayer that my girl will always be happy in the love of an honest man. Ma. The sheet fluttered silently to the floor. Eyes wide and staring, the girl looked straight ahead, as a sleeper suddenly aroused. The love of an honest man! She snatched up the dress and held it before her, searching her image in the glass. Suddenly a burning red flamed across her face — a wedding-dress! Why, she had not realized that — a wedding ! It was not just clothes and parties, then, but more — ah ! much more. She would be a wife — and ma had made this dress t or her to wear for Billy. She touched it shyly, tremulous at the wave of new emotion that swept over her. Vaguely, something o£m&Zs happy dreaming crept from the folds. It was a wonderful thing — a wedding-dress; a sacred thing. Suddenly May Belle crushed the dimity to her and broke into weeping bitter tears of shame and pain, of understanding and a new, deep joy. The fire crackled comfortably in the coal stove, sending little, prying fingers of warm red into the dusk. In her chair before it, ma slept fitfully. Billy, coming in softly, sank into the old cane rocker and fell a-brooding in the shadows. His boy's face, stained by the friendly firelight, was worn and chiseled, by new lines, to a man 's. It was very quiet in the room, and all at once Billy began to dream. Of course it was a dream ; yet she looked very real, standing there before him, dark curls blowing about her face, arms stretched out across the leaping light. "Billy," the Dream said, falteringly. ' ' Billy — I Ve come — home ! ' ' He stumbled to his feet, somehow, and forward. And then — ah, dear God ! it was not a dream, after all, but May Belle, his May Belle in his arms, her face uptilted, and the wonderful new woman-light in her eyes. 'Do you, dear, do you?" whispered ? little voice faintly against his cheek. 'Say it, Billy " "I love you!" cried Billy, gladly. T'heir lips met, and he knew that at last she understood. i ' Oh, I love you so, May Belle!" Ambition By RUSSELL E. SMITH he laurels of Tennyson I could have easily won If I'd the mind tor to try. The yarns that are by Lamb Or dear old O. Khayyam Bring never a light to my eye. There's Emerson, Addison, And Edison, Madison. All famous from here to Rosario — lint I'd rather he noted And famous and quoted As the author of some scenario.