The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1895-07-17
IN THE CAFE.

She was quiet little woman, with a
very pale face. Her serge gown was worn
and shabby. The blue had faded to sort
of heliotrope. She wore pink shirt waist
which had also faded and was streaked,
but was scrupulously clean. The shabby
shoes and the frayed gloves carried out the
general impression of poverty.
She walked to small table in the cor
ner and sat down with certain grim de-
termination in her manner. The very way
in which she pulled hel chair up to the
table was full of decision. The way she
dragged off her shabby gloves and laid
them to one side suggested desperation.
She read the menu card over and gave her
order to Pierre quite distinctly, though in
a low tone. Then she leaned back, her
lips, which lacked the rrsddiness of health,
drawn closely together.
"Queer looking girl that, 3" remarked the
artist to his wife as he tossed up salad
Eyes; isn't she?'' remarked the artists
wife, nibbling an olive.
"She doesn't look like the bohemian
sort, - pursued he.
s'She looks 1ilxe-a-well, a teacher as
far as her face goes, and a starving mil
liners assistant as regards clothes and
air., - commenced Mrs. Artist critically.
''She does seem hard up, that's a fact
Meantime Pierre placed the tureen be-
fore the hungry looking girl The aroma
of soup foated on the air. The girls
transparently white face was suffused with
color for an instant as she carried the
ladle toward her soup plate. Then there
was little crash, little cry, and soup
was trickling down the shabby gown. The
pale faced girl had tainted.
They bore her to the little parlor, and
Mrs. Artist, who was a recognized au-
thority at the Mazarin, because she always
foc 9nd 6o c+if 7u
starched shirt collar and ordered some
sherry. The white faced girl revived be-
meath the stiInulant and drew long
drawn and shuddering sigh.
Then she INCREASINGLY took more OF
Che wine the golden haired woman was
forcing upon her. When she had recovered
somewhat, the wise little wife of the art
ist forbade her to speak.
''When you have drunk this broth, J" she
said in the voice Of a commander in chief,
t'you may tell me all about it.
The girl drank the broth obediently.
s'Now," said the artists wife, "what
does it all mean?'' s-.-
The pink flush suffused the white face
again.
81 hadn't had anything to eat for sc
long that I was faint, - whispered the girl.
And I didn't have money to pay for my
dinner, and-hunger and-fear-made
mel
eyes, I see," nodded Mrs. Artist as
though to be starving and a swindler were
natural occurrences. 81 see. But how
did it happen? Tell me in just few
words.''
''I'm music teacher, - faltered the girl,
"and music student. Alone in New York.
Home in Ohio. Boarded on Tenth street.
Lost my pupils; lost my money. Couldn't
write home. They're poor. Stopped tax
ing my meals in the house. Did chamber
work to pay for my room. Finally didn' t
have cent. 1 couldn't borrow or beg for
money, and I couldn't earn any. lit
I hadn't anything to eat for three days,
and I made up my mind to have one din
ner if I was put in Jail for it. -
81 understand perfectly" said the art
lists wife in the tone of one who had fire.
quently experienced starvation. "NOw
come out and dine with us, Miss
Miss Wylie,' said the girl, blushing.
envy DEAR said the artists wife that
night, ''you are going to paint a picture of
thin, pale, spirituelle faced, shabby young
woman teaching round, rosy little cherub
the violin. You are going to call it The
Music Teacher, and sell it to old Mr.. Van
Fletcher, who likes you, for 5000 or So.
And you are going to give Miss Wylie a
hundred of those dollars for being such a
perfect model for the subject. Then sh, s
going to spend the summer on an Ohio
farm. Do you underestimate