The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1897-11-25
THE WOMAN IN GRAY.

II gray. VINO lS she, from whence QlQ SnS
come, where did she go and why her mys-
tery?"
So much like an ancient mariner spoke
an old man as he drew a police reporter
aside from crowd to a bench in dingy
corridor of the Four Courts. His hair was
white and long, and his face was wrinkled
and very pale. A flowing white beard
overspread his hollow chest. His eyes were
bright, almost sparkling. His form was
bent, and he leaned upon a staff. He was
well clad and seemed drawn to the IN
canny surroundings by some spirit of old
association, which also made him remi-
niscent.
"From words that have just overheard
I know you, sir, and I want to tell you
this story. Don't ask me for names and
dates and places, for, after all, the lives
are the same no matter where, how or by
whom they are lived. Men and women
are not creatures of names, times or places
but they are only creatures of love, disap-
pointment, joy, grief and pain. Men are
not loved, hated or honored for the time
place OF name under which they live
Neither do men cease with their time or
place, but 'extinctus amabiter idem.
q have seen three generations of men
in manhood, the first in St. Louis years
ago, and the latter two in an eastern city
where my home is. In that eastern city 1
learned the story I am about to relate to
you.
1t was not many years ago that knew
them-the persons whom my story con-
Germs. They were three. The central fig
ure in that trio was a beautiful young
girl, about 30 years old when she came in
to the story I am about to tell. She was
richly endowed with womanIy grace and
worldly wealth. She was not from St.
Louis, but she traced her ancestry to the
founders of the city and was bound by ties
of blood to families still represented here
and honored for their lineage.
She lived in an eastern city. There
she knew and loved an artist. The tender
passion was returned and but for one
thing all was well and propitious with
their love. The artist was q genius his
devotion to his art being second only to
his devotion to the young woman whom
he loved. His work was much sought
after. There was a peculiar sameness
about all his pictures, however. He had a
hobby in art, always affecting the solnber
in tints The gray of November land
scapes was a passion with him. He carried
this taste into pet name for his fiancee,
for when he petted her he called her his
little gray mouse She liked the pet
name for she was but a timid, clinging
child of love.
"The one thing that disturbed the hap
piness of these two was the foolish jealousy
of the artist lover. The object of this jeal-
ousy was a young man of fortune and
leisure, who was a friend of the pair. He
knew of their love and sacredly regarded
it, but he did love the young woman. He
concealed his love, always conducting him
self as a friend of the two, and nothing
more. He did not know that he was the
innocent cause of frequent outbursts of
jealous accusations by the ardent artist
against his sweetheart. The girl always
passionately avowed her love for the artist
and declared the other man to be but a
friend.
''The artist and his f1ancee were accus-
toned to frequently visit art exhibits to-
gether. One gray afternoon they went to
a large art museum. She was clad in gray.
For hours they loitered before the pictures.
At last the young woman complained of
WEAKNESS and wanted to sit down to rest.
" Come into the next department, and
you can rest while look at the pictures
there, " he suggested.
No. 1 am going to rest right here
she said, just bit pettishly, as she found
an easy chair, and she would not go with
him. He left her, saying that he would
be back soon.
"He had scarcely gone before the mutual
friend of the pair happened along and
stopped for a moment to chat with the
woman whom he loved, but to whom, for
honor's sake he would not declare his
love- He soon passed on and left her to
wait for the artist whom he envied and
1.-THE artist never came. The young
woman waited until the dusk had fallen.
AS the moments wore on her heart began
to smite her, and then came a sense of
sickening fear and then flow of tears.
She searched the gallery. He was not
there Suddenly a look of horror came in
to her eyes and with it the inward ques-
tions: Did he come back? Did he see Yer
non speaking with me, and did he go away
forever? At last the gallery closed. The
woman in gray was driven to her home,
hoping yet that he would come to her.
1.-THE evening passed and the artist did
not come. The next morning the young
woman was in raging fever, delirious,
constantly calling for her absent lover. At
last she recovered, but was never the same
woman. The artist never returned. As
frequently happens in great cities, he had
disappeared as though the earth had swHl
lowed him up.
1.-THE woman, now grown almost to
middle age, still searches for him quietly
and mysteriously. The habit Of visiting
large gatherings especially art exhibits,
has grown upon her until it has become a
mania. She goes to these places always
clad in gray. She glides about as though
possessed of the spirit of mystery. In her
eyes there is always that look of an awak-
ening question powerful and awful, repel
ling all questions from those who would be
curious Did he see Vernon speaking
with me, and did he go away forever
This woman in gray has always been a
mystery wherever she has gone, but none
has ever learned her story from her lips.
Her lips are closed, but her heart speaks.
mo, don't ask me for names or date,
for her secret is sacred, and it would be
sacrilege to reveal it, " said the old man.
"When death shall come and eternity shall
bring light to her clouded brain, she may
learn the mystery of that somber after
noon, orperhaps in her wandering, faithful
search she may find the lost artist aud