The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1896-02-26

'ySMSA IL Being intent or
MN2Fw his morning du
ties, he put it in his waistcoat pocket
without further thought, for he was g
busy man, the editor of great daily
paper. The small portion of his time
which was not spent in the sanctum Of
bis Office was devoted to his snug
rooms in large apartment house; il
was there that he gained what little
rest and pleasure his busy life afford.
ed him. John Ainsworth was in every
sense of the word a man of culture
and refinement, with very little fond
ness for society. In fact, he had stu
diously avoided the other residents of
the house, and, perhaps, it was for
that reason that he scorned the ele-
vator, preferring to bound up the
marble stairs to his cosy 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 pro-
vided. Elliott was happy-go-lucky
artist, whose profession had not as
yet brought him an income.
When John entered the pretty sit
ting room that evening, he found his
brother putting the finishing touches
TO what he was pleased to call an
"ideal head"
"Hello! Jack. I've been waiting
ages for you. Shall we dine at the
Albemarle to-n1ght?"
"Why, no. I am going to the
Writers 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
sxpression?'
John walked to the easel and
glanced carelessly at the sketch, rath.
er bored 10 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 ap-
pealed to him, and as he studied the
face it seemed more and more to be,
seech his friendliness, at least. The
waving, chestnut hair, the delicately
moulded brow, the sweet, thin lips,
and the daintiness of contour all
united in completing beautiful face.
"Elliott, you rascal, you have
stolen this BY Jove, it's the best you
have doneW
Elliott could not conceal his salts
faction 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
trom memory"
'Where did you see her? If you
nave really portrayed some living
girl she must indeed be beauty!"
Elliott seemed we'll pleased that an
answer was not expected. He put up
his paints and brushes and the editor
and his friend prepared for the even.
ing, one going to his club and the
other sauntering off to favorite cafe
to cot, smoke and dream about the
subject of his sketch.
The next morning when John put
his hand in his pocket for his Car fare,
heran against something unusual, and
pulling it out recognized the little gold.
en- 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 Elliott's sketch watching him de.
murely, even appealingly, it seemed
to him-yes, it 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 dis
concerted and hastily replaced the
cross in his pocket, sinking behind his
newspaper, though furtively glancine
across the aisle only to find the hazel
eyes still fastened upon him.
Now, John Ainsworth had reached
the sober age of thirty-five and if any
one had told him that pair of haze
eyes would set his heart to beating
like steam pump or cause crimson
hue to suffuse his manly face he would
have secuted at the idea. But that
was just what was going on this very
morning, and as the sensation was sc
new and so 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 Cal
and dropped of. only to regret it, a:
In a moment lie was overcome to dis
cover that he had voluntarily given W
the only chance Of finding out who sht
was or where she was going, for h'
was suddenly aware of an intense in
terest in her whereabouts. Following
his first impulse, he started at lively
pace to pursue the car, but stopped
shortly when he heard familiar voic'
calling:
"Hold on there, Jack, old man
What's the rush? Is there a fire o
are you after a SCOOP"
swell, you here? I managed to ge
off at the wrong corner and though
to regain the car" John smile