The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1897-07-29
A COMMON MAN.

He was an ordinary looking man, Dos
1essing what Is generally known as an
honest face''-that is to say, he was ex-
seedingly plain as well as painfully or
binary Yet though he sat among all the
dainty knickknacks Of the boudoh. belong
ing to the woman for whom b impatient
iy waited, no feeling of nervousness touch
ed him.
The June sunshine struggled fercely in
through the drawn curtains, a drowsy
languor was in the air, and John Henry
Williamson sat idly counting the number
of roses that were clustered in the bowl
nearest him.
The door opened gently and the woman
he loved came slowly forward, and he
knew from the little pale face she raised
and the nervous fingers playing restlessly
with the lace that covered her white dress
that she knew his errand-understood at
last what society had been laughing at for
some weeks-the very evident passion of
John Henry Williamson, the millionaire,
for her lovely self.
Neither spoke for few minutes, then
the common man. broke the silence.
81 know who and what I am.'' He
had a nice, kind voice, and Lady Muriel
Varneigh poticed it vaguely as she seated
herself "There is nothing about me to
justify it-but I love you. love you ut
terly.''
nize truth when we hear it, perhaps from
it's rarity, the pale face resting YEARLY
against the blue cushions of her chair
flushed family, and he continued:
81 could not insult you by alluding to
my wealth as an induoement in N.Y.
The proud little golden head raised it.
self
you know-every one knows-how poor
we are. It's the Others Her soft voice
trem bled slightly, but she pulled herself
up sharply and rose and faced her would
be lover bravely.
"I'm the eldest of many. must marry
well. It's my duty" she said bitterly.
"Mr. Williamson, I accept your offer, and
thank God you were not made a woman.
But there is something you must know
first
She spoke with an effort, but catching
a glimpse of the kind face bent SO respect
fully toward her she gained courage to
continue.
"Kind, good, generous az you are''-the
kind face fushed-''it is impossible for me
to love you. Respect, liking, friendship
are all yours, butt
''There is some one else?' he asked
hoarsely.
'sThere was," she answered with an
effort. "We were both poor, and it was
all stopped. He went away and II stop
a little while ago, and'--sh gave hard
little laugh-"and married some one else
There was another little silence, then
Muriel began again.
''That is all but his name, and you have
a right to-
But the common man, fwith look Of
love in his eyes that removed him widely
from the commonplace, stopped her.
"You have made me happy by your
trust. AS my wife you shall never regret
the confidence
He raised the little cold hand he held to
his lips and abruptly left her.
And as she sat alone rejecting that he
might have kissed her lips, Muriel Var
neigh felt that the man who had gone
away her accepted husband was worth
more than she could give him.
He was Watching the brilliant scene,
half amused, half cynical, when her voice
reused him.
aren't you going to ask me TO dancer"
she said lightly, and John Williamson
started and glanced down at his wife.
Flushed and laughing, she was standing
buttoning long glove by his side in the
empty anteroom adjoining the ballroom.
How sweet she looked, he thought, with
his diamonds on her neck and in her bril-
liant hair, and it was with feeling of in
tense delight that he watched her write
''my husband near the dance he claimed.
He still watched her as she swung to and
fro among the dancing crowd, and once as
she caught his wistful eye she smiled and
nodded over her partners shoulder.
With the memory Of her smile with him
he sauntered away, and HIDING a seat
screened from view by a group of waving
palms he threw himself down with a half
laugh at the folly that made him long SO
passionately for the one dance he was 60
ing to dance tonight.
After awhile the sweet, soft music steal
ing drowsily to him made him think, half
dreaming, of delicious future possibilities
when his little Muriel would forget all else
and perhaps love him.
A voice reused him. Beyond his clev-
erly hidden seat a man was speaking
fercely and desperately.
You thought I could marry another2
don't believe it. You women are all
alike. It was my cousin. You might
have guessed had you really loved me.
And now-Muriel, you love me stilL''
With fierce, awful despair the listener
covered his ears so that his wife's answer
was never heard by him, for when he lift
ed his head they had passed on, and the
music was telling him that the longed for
dance had come at last.
John Williamson removed his wife's
cloak and then did, for him, an unusual
thing-he bent and kissed her tenderly.
She did not shrink from his touch, and he
watched her walk slowly up the broad
stairs to her rooms.
Something in his gaze compelling her,
she turned and saw him. She gave him
soft, kind smile, he smiled back, and they
parted. John Williamson went into his
study and locked the door.
Up stairs, with her head buried in the
lace counterpart, Muriel was needlessly
praying, Deliver me from temptation" |
for at that very moment she was FREQ to
love again the common man" had taken
bis life that at last she might be happy
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