Fredericksburg College - Quips and Quibbles Yearbook (Fredericksburg, VA)

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QUIPS AND QUIBBLES Past Understanding window and seated herself on the arm of an old-fashioned chair that was near the window. He stood looking at her a few minutes, then came and sat on the other arm; and, after a moment of silence, took the little white hand that rested on the back of the chair in both of his, saying tenderly, “such a soft little hand,” and raised it to his lips. She trembled with joy, yet she was silent. Page 93 ’till he slipped down into the chair and put his arm around her slender waist, and whispered, “sweetheart.’’ Then both her arms went around his neck, and he drew her down into his arms, where she nestled up close to his heart, while he told her the old new story, and their joy was past understanding. S. T. L., ’02.

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Page 92 QUIPS AND QUIBBLES Past Understanding E was nervous and excited, as she sat in a ig arm chair before the open fire listening agerly for a certain step that she hoped and et dreaded to hear. The room was elegantly furnished, and lighted only by the firelight, which cast flickering shadows here and there, but fell in full splendor on the girlish form seated just before it. She was beautiful, and the firelight brought out the gold in the light brown hair, and set forth the delicate face in its exquisite charm of intelligence and purity. She was dressed simply, in a dress of soft white cassimere, having as her only ornament at her throat a heavy gold pin which reflected the light. And as she sat thus before the fire, leaning back in the chair with her white hands clasped tightly together, there came a step on the porch, then a ring at the bell, and she dared not move for fear it was not he. The door was opened and the maid came forward bearing a card on her silver waiter. The girl seized it with trembling fingers, glanced at the name, and said: “Show him in, Suzanne; but if there are any other callers, understand that I wish to see no one this evening.” He came in, a tall, dark, handsome man, with a figure that showed he had gone in for athletics at college. She arose as he entered, and extended her hand, which he took, and did she imagine it, or was it true, that he held it a moment longer than was necessary? They sat down and tried to talk; but never, not even the first time when they met, two years ago, had they found it so hard. She had fully awakened to the fact several days before that she was in love, and with him. Her heart told her that he too loved, though she feared to trust herself to believe it until she heard him say the words that she knew would be the sweetest ever spoken. They struggled on with the conversation awhile, then lapsed into silence, and he leaned back in his chair, and gazed at the girl sitting so near him. It seemed to her that his eyes burned into her very heart, and she feared that she would not be able to resist their charms, but would cast herself into his arms. Just then there came to them the sounds of music, and she arose and opened the window to listen. But the air was cold, and the music died away in the distance. She lowered the

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Page 94 After Fi ERE they come at last! ' ’ These words were spoken by a little slip of a girl in a pale blue lawn dress, and a big white garden hat trimmed with blue of the same shade. She had been walking impatiently up and down the long garden walk for the last half hour. Now as she heard the sound of wheels on the carriage drive leading up to the house, she turned quickly and ran from the garden, and down the terraces to the gate. Just then the carriage drew up, and out jumped two young men, one of whom stopped to assist a young lady to alight, while the other turned with indisguisable joy to meet the girl in blue. “Oh! I thought you would never get here, and by this time she was kissing the girl who almost lifted her in her arms. Then the four together started up the steps to the old-fashioned country house, which was the home of Sue Lightfoot, who was to entertain there for a couple of weeks the class of 1902. “Clyde Bruce will be here on the evening train. I can ' t think of her as anybody but Clyde Bruce, though she ' s been married for more than a year now,” volun¬ Q UI P S AND QUIBBLES e Y ears teered the hostess, as they went on. “And when is old Mose coming?” questioned Gaston Boyle. “He’ll get here on a night train. ” ’Tis next morning, and the six class mates of five years before are seated in the large, old wainscoted parlor, talking of past, present and future, but mostly of past. Alfred Miller is now a newspaper reporter, and tells many amusing experiences. Five years have changed him but little, only made him more “Sui Generis” than ever. Carrington Mosely has probably changed more than any of the set; he wears a mustache and glasses, and looks very dignified, though he unbends enough to yell, “cut that out now,” to one of Miller’s stories. He has been a college professor for three years now. Clyde Bruce has married a wealthy man, and is quite a society woman, being more dignified than when she giggled at “Shorty’s” breaks in geology. Gaston Boyle has spent the past two years at Union