The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1891-05-24
ELEANOR IN LOVE.


she send it? That moment was one of
those wistfully critical epochs of exis-
tence upon which may swing, as upon a
hinge, the door of destiny.
Eleanor Armstrong stood in doubt.
Why? It was a little thing, just friend
" letter to Jack Renshaw out in Texas.
What matter? Why should she hesitate?
Eleanor could not tell. Still she lin
gered, dimly PRESIDENT of that swinging
door of destiny.
She had written his name across the
envelope; should she complete the adj
dress and let it go? Hers was quick,
positive nature, given to the obedience
of impulse. 1t was veXing to be SO puz-
zled over so slight thing.
An accident, if such it was, decided
the question. A caller was announced.
She descended to the drawing room, and
the letter went to the box, gathered up
with the rest Of her mail by the hand of
the maid.
at was Destiny" said Eleanor to her
self in an afterthought.
After all nothing could come of It.
She was under no obligation to Jack
Renshaw, nor to any other man, in fact.
Then she wondered idly if she ever
should care for any of them-One more
than another-for Eleanor Armstrong,
while no beauty, had grace and sparkle,
and subtle personal magnetism which
drew about her plenty of admirers.
She favored them all by turns. Last
summer it was Lew Hunter. She went
boating with him up in lovely Chocorua,
where they summered, played tennis and
| climbed country roads and hills.
HE was SO strong and good natured,
and made such good alpen-stock," she
coolly explained to her aunt, Miss Jane
| Mears, who was her careful chaperon.
This year, last past, it was Jack Rem
shaw, at the same place, Chocorua-
''dear old dreamy town." Eleanor said,
81 could never tire of it" Jack did not
dance, cared nothing for tennis, and had
no experience with oars; but he read
poetry beautifully, and could tell her
charming old idyls as they walked by
| the river.
He interested her in way that others
did not; and yet he had such dreadfully
intense earnestness about him that he
positively frightened her sometimes, she
said.
Now the summer was gone, Jack was
in Texas, and Eleanor was in her city
home with only Aunt Jane and memory.
| Yes. there was always Fred kensel. He
lived in handsome house up in the
square, with stylish mother and sisters.
He was the oldest friend of all. and was
ALWAYS at hand, sometimes more than
! Eleanor wished. For in the last year
| their frank, unrestrained good fellow
| ship had in some way taken on color
too strong for ordinary friendship, and
| Eleanor often found herself unconforta-
BILE and i'll at ease when Fred was near,
! She would declare the air was close-she
must have the window open-and where
was Aunt Jane? Or if they were on the
street she complained of his pace; why
did he lag SO? Couldn't he walk up like
anv other man? Poor Fred unwittingly
felt the smart of many thorns that
winter.
But about Jack Renshaw: Eleanor
cared nothing for him-she knew she
didn't. He was a pleasant summer
friend. nothing more. He had light
hair; she wouldn't marry blonde, any
way. Then lie was too serious, toe
"preachy." She wasn't going to marry
a guideboard. Besides he was all of ter
wears older than she-might as well be
her grandfather. No, Jack Renshaw,
for anything but friend, was out of the
question. Lew Hunter was more TO hel
mind. and secretly 10 herself, she owned
that Mr.. Jerome Arthur, the tenor at St
Pauls. was nearer 10 her taste than
either. But Mr.. Jerome Arthur was as
yet only vague possibility. She had
met him casually dozen times or so
Thus she reasoned.
SO the days went by, and the Letter
and Jack went almost ont OF mind DC
casionally remark or tone of voice. ol
q marked passage in some favorite booi
thew had read. would recall him Their
memory would stir, and she would idll
/ wonder if he got her letter. and wher
and how he would write. But the spec
ulation was one OF indifference. /
troubled heYuoe. The issue was all toc
vague as Yet.
Lew Hunter was around occasionally
she began to meet and sing duets Will