The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1895-06-28

<M<ZzW put it in his waist
q" coat pocket without
further thought, for
he was busy man, the editor Of a great
daily paper. The small portion of his
time which was not spent in the sane
tum Of his office was devoted to his
snug rooms In a large apartment house;
it was there that he gained what little
rest and pleasure his busy life afforded
him. John Ainsworth was in every
sense of the word man of culture and
refinement, with very little fondness
for society. In fact, he had studiously
avoided the other residents of the house
and perhaps 1t was for that reason that
he scorned the elevator, preferring to
bound up the marble stairs to his coy
rooms on the third floor. This habit
greatly amused his young brother.
Elliott, who shared his home and any
other comforts that the gods or John
provided. Elliott was a lazy, happy
go-lucky artist, whose profession had
not e. yet brought him an income.
When John entered the pretty sitting
room that evening, he found his brother
putting the finishing touches to what
he was pleased to call an ideal head"
"Heilo! Jack. I've been waiting ages
for you. Shall we dine at the Albemarle
to-night?"
"Why, no. am going to the Writer'S
club, SO you must look out for yourself
this evening"
"Well, all right, only look at this a
moment before you dress. Don't you
think there is something sweet IN the
EXPRESSION"
John walked to the easel and glanced
oara1aCGlU at tha Slxatob rotbar bOre6
to be forced to spend time on one of
Elliott's many daubs. But for once his
attention was arrested. Something in
the light-brown eyes appealed to him,
and as he studied the face it seemed
more and more to beseech his friendli-
ness at least The waving, chestnut
hair, the delicately nodded brow, the
sweet, thin lips and the daintiness of
contour all united in completing beau.
tiful face.
"Elliott, you rascal, you have stolen
this! By Jove, it's the best you have
done!"
Elliott could not conceal his satisfac.
ton at his brothers honest praise, for
who was so dear to him as sober old
John?
"Thank you, Jack, and to tell you the
truth, it's face I've seen and dreamed
about but painted entirely from
memory"
'where did you see her? If you have
really portrayed some living girl she
must be indeed beauty
Elliott seemed well pleased that an
answer was not expected. He put up
his paints and brushes and the editor
and his brother prepared for the even.
ing, one going to his club, and the other
shuntering off to favorite cafe to eat,
smoke and dream about the subject OF
his sketch.
The next morning when John put his
hand in his pocket for his car-fare, he
ran against something unusual and
pulling it out recognized the little
golden cross. He looked at it carefully
and saw the inscription "Muriel" upon
it. When he raised his head, he
blushed to see the light-brown eyes OF
Elliotts sketch watching him demure-
ly, even appealingly, it seemed to him
yes, 1t must be she, the same brow, the
waving hair, the dainty lips and, best
Of all, the wonderful eyes!
For some reason he felt much discon-
certed and hastily replaced the cross In
his pocket, sinking behind his news
paper, though furtively glancing across
the aisle only to ma the hazel eyes
still fastened upon him.
Now, John Ainsworth had reached the
sober age Of 35 and If any one had told
him that pair OF hazel eyes would
set his heart to beating like steam
pump or cause crimson hue to suifuse
his manly face he would have secuted
at the idea. But that was just what
was going on this very mocning and as
cn
alarming the only idea that came to him
Was flight. So, taking one more look
at the girlish figure, he made his way
to the door Of the car and dropped off
only to regret it. as in moment he