The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1896-01-01

GO1NG III mARhlEO AGA1NE
ous," said she. "It seems to me it is
when you are young and have all your life
to make or mar before you that you have
the best right to be Serious
'tWhy, why, Linda, my girl! 1t isn't
you haven't come to tell me you are going
to get married again?''
Married again!" exclaimed the young
woman. "No one ought to get married
again; it doesn't sound pretty"
ST didn't mean to say that. I am an
unfortunate laundering old ancestor.
Don't be too hard on me. You know,
daughter, I'd love to see you happy, even
If you did leave me to the mercy of the
housenaids."
would you, father, would your" Linda
came and sat on the arm of his chair and
stroked his grizzled hair.
''Out with It'll Who is itP I'm braced, :"
said the father grimly
"Oh, I'm not going to marry. I'm
not" cried Mrs. Marmont, with even IN
necessary fervor. "You ought to know
that. You know, wasn't very happy,
and-and want to be a deaconnessI ''
"a what?''
"You know, the order of deaconnesses
they have in the church, papa They
give their lives to good works.
'Lord, Lord 1t sounds as if they wore
boomers. They don't, do they?'
''The costume is very becoming" said
the WIDOW, with severity.
''Well, that's something to be thankful
for"
''Papa, you must treat me like grown
person for three minutes. 1 want to tell
you that have made up my mind. I'm
going to enter the novitiate. I'm going
to be a deacOnness.
She stood in the middle of the room, her
hands clasped before her and looking ter
ribly formidable for such q slender young
beauty in good clothes. cts my one res
olution for the new year." she went on
very quietly, but her breath coming in ir-
regular pants. 81 thought ought to tell
you as soon as 1 had made up my mind,
and 1 made it up today, on this last day
of the old year, and it's the last, too, of
my old life. I'm tired of the frivolity and
emptiness of the old life.''
She moved toward the door; as she laid
her hand on the knob she turned and said
to the silent man:
"I'm not going to the ball tomorrow
night, but don't let my movements disturb
yours
81 trust you have not at this hour con-
cluded to throw over your Aunt Sarah's
dinner, too," he said, with sarcastic into
nations.
NO. was the answer. "I don't know
how Aunt Sarah's dinners could ever be
looked upon festivities. I'm only try
ing to sober my mind, and I expect that
" UO q very SODcEluR 1QACb1Ou-
Aunt Sarahs dinner was to be eaten
that very evening, and the guests were to
dance and play whist and watch the old
year out. 1t was to be family party with
a sprinkling of such other people as could
be brought to join family party-cer-
tainly not likely was it that they would
be very gay mernb ers of society.
81 don't care what you do with it, %
said Mrs Marmont, when her maid was
doing her hair. Its not important how I
1oot1."
''Why, madame, it ees not LADIES'
luncheon you dress forl There will be the
gentlemen. Is it not sof'
The mistress laughed and answered that
it didn't matter.
Mrs Marmont went to the despised din
ner looking uncommonly imposing and
handsome. When she entered her aunt's
drawing room, little adniring hush and
then a little admiring murmur greeted the
softly draped white figure, such as was
hardly to be expected from company so
familiar with the sight of her. But all
were not equally familiar with it; an ath-
letic, bronzed young man who was talking
to Mrs. founders (his hostess, Aunt
Sarah) contributed to the hush, SO to
speak, by stopping short in the middle Of
his sentence as his eyes rested on Mrs.
Marmont, and then circulating, Is lit
is'-
Linda" interrupted Mrs. founders,
t'Of course. Didn't you expect Co SEQ herS'
81 had heard she was abroad-she hasn't
changed so much ms A=st thought"
"Oh,' NO, q woman doesn't change much
between "a and &c, Mr.. Lester. The FASH
ions change but you mustn't talk to her
=1 Rou WaHe suEpSised-she isn't decrepit