Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1893-11-18

| GS,WI1 whole young figure
| SN$XyK0 dropped. she wa.
| &AkS like a slight pithless
| SSSSO flower stalk weighted
with the forlorn bur den of a single white
| blossom.
| Mrs. Slatterly sur veyed the girl with a
very distinct sense Of annoyance, and as
| she took In those lax lines, that spiritless
air, 1t dimly occurred to her that per-
| haps beauty entails on it's possessor a GER
tain weakness of character just as a too
lavish output of blossom enfeebles a plant.
Mrs. Slatterly's own determined wrinkles
and incorporating solidity of frame were
; sort Of negative justification of this idea.
She herself had never been pithless and
| dropping. She had never been handsome.
either. Yet she had married to some ad-
| vantage.
Here was Sophia, her own daughter. a
| girl who in this Indiana town was called
| beautiful. who had been away to a finish
| ing school, who had studied music and art
here was she blanching and trembling,
| all because the most influential man in
| the place had asked her hand in marriage.
1T Is too absurd" declared Mrs. Slatterly,
| in the piping small voice which seems a
special endowment of large women. You
can have no possible objection to Mr.. Clay
| pool. He is only middle-aged, he is not
| bad looking. he is a man OF notable piety
and he owns more property than any other
man in the county. He will make a kind
| and considerable husband. 1 never heard
that his deceased wife was other than
happy"
Il know" breathed Sophia, family. A
vivid picture of Mr.. Claypool rose before
| her miserable eyes. She saw a tall man,
with a frame inclining to joints, which
made themselves obvious in the limp broad
cloths affected by Mr.. Claypool. She saw
lean, smiling face, thin black beard
Mr.. Claypoors nasal tones, his habit OF
| haranguing at prayer meeting, his manner
| Of clearing his throat. these details seemed
| to give Sophia spasm of desperate cour-
age. Il never expected to marry a man
didn't care for she faltered. The plea
| had an illogical sound. Sophia felt this
To avoid her mothers eyes she looked be-
yond her at the growing dusk which the
open door revealed. 1t was not quite dark,
but gas was flaming prodigally at the street
| corners. Long unglobed tufts of flame
wrapped the heads of the iron standards
as with ringlets Of fiery snakes.
Further OF other standards lifted these
smoky crests of orange and crimson. The
gas burned unrestrictedly as yet. 1t was
easier to use 1t than to manage 1t in the
pipes. The town thoroughfares. which only
a year before had worn the faint and
frugal illumination of occasional dim lamps,
now blazed in a perpetual gala attire of
light. Even by day it was not uncommon
TO see weird mists Of violet lowering spec
trally above the iron posts Of street cor
ners.
The mere sight Of the outer brilliancy
gave Sophia new pang. The very gas
oa1f CtoI
many of the wells And as Sophia's mind
took In the full import of his financial
merits, and complete sense of her lack
OF tangible reasons for refusing him, she
teit as II chains were riveting themselves
upon her wrists.
Sophia said her mother, severely
your remark surprises me- I-well, 1t
gives me suspicion. You had better be
frank with me. Sophia. II you've foolishly
allowed your affections to rest on some one
else" She paused with an excited air.
l-really must beg you to be frank with
me, Sophia!' Her tone was very insistent
Sophia's face, however. wore the same
expression OF tranquil despair. Even de-
spair with Sophia had certain inertness.
I don't see what difference 1t would
make" she murmured. perhaps it would
only make things a little worse. No.
mother, l have no confession to make l
guess it's just as well that 1 haven't"
See here, Sophia!' demanded Mrs. Stat
terly. Am 1 an ogress? Am l a-a-ghoul,
creatures? Do you suppose 1 should ask
you to consider Mr.. Claypool If you love
some one else? You horrify me- 1 am your
mother, Sophia. / ask you again to be
frank with me. and tell me just" She
came to discreet pause, being suddenly
aware that her tone was exponential Of ex-
cited feelings. and that there was a step
on the porch outside.
She gave a sigh of relief as a mans fig
ure, appearing in the doorway, disclosed
the proportions of Mr.. Slatterly himself.
Good evening. my dears.' he said, not
seeming to notice the overcharged state of
the moral atmosphere. Indeed, he was used
TO atmOSpheres of this nature, being a law
yer whose practice had not been attended
with success of notable sort. His whole
manner was apologize. His mild face re-
duplicated as with a leathern mask the soft
passivity of Sophia's features
II suppose you've heard about young
Clinton" he asked, putting his hat on the
rack. There is considerable excitement
about it downtown. I'm not sure that they
did well to keep 1t quiet these three days But
his aunt, Mrs. West, is most conservative
conservative"
what are you talking about?" asked his
wife. with connubial directness. What has
he done? You mean Miles Clinton. 1 sup
pose?'
Certainly" agreed Mr.. slatterly. in the
concfliatory tone of one addressing the
bench. He has disappeared"
"Dlsappeared?"
Most mysteriously. He's been missing
IOT tnree DAYS HAD they at once sought !
legal advice some clue might by this time |
have been forthcoming. But they did not |
Instead of searching for him they examin- |
ed his accounts. He kept books for the |
pulp MILL you remember-a position of |
some trust. But Clinton's books were |
found by his employers to be straight |
quite straight So they now judge that he |
has been foully dealt with. His sole living |
relative, Mrs. West. the aged aunt with |
whom he boarded. is certain that he has |
been foully dealt with. They are going to !
drag the river tomorrow. He's probably |
been sandbagged and robbed. There is a |
very tough element down around the new
bagging factory. If the municipal author |
ity of this town would seek legal advice a |
to the proper means Of dealing with this |
low and"
He was a person of a great deal Cf |
method. meditated Mrs. Slatterly The |
last person on earth to disappear
IF he was sandbagged-you see my dear,
q perfectly irreproachable man may be
But he never seemed to me the sort of
person to be sandbagged," protested Mrs
as she remembered Mr.. Clinton |
looks.
He had been a tall young man, with a
long upper lip, a stiff manner and a sleek
head He had been inclined to take him
self very seriously, and since anything of
A gracefully frivolous character was utter
obliged also to take him seriously. But
though nature had evidently not modelled
him with a view to the adornment of light
social scenes Mr.. Clinton had been a fig
IRE of some moment in the town. He be-
onQed the |