The Van Buren press., 1897-09-04
Wbat happened a
q e Chat Cline.
BY MARY FENT0N BIGELow.

THE Chicago q st. Paul train was
moving out of a suburban station
ON rainy October morning.
a pretty, stylish young woman and
young man, carefully shielding her
with a dripping umbrella, were stand
ing on the platform; the lady was speak
ing to another, older and palmer, who
was entering the car.
You will have such long, wretched
day, Miss Angel. Too bad not to wait
for the sleeper tonight"
The plain face lighted up. well,
the parting traveller called back: Long,
but not stupid. You know something
interesting always happens when | 60
abroad. Yon shall hear about it to-
morrow. Good-by!"
she will have something to write, :
Kate Dutton said, as she and her COM
panion turned down the wet sidewalk
1T might be the most commonplace
affair for anyone else. but Janet Angel
will get thrill out of it,"
VERY fortunate temperament for a
woman not yorng or pretty" Alex.
j cry Was DtkfhulHS.
''she is so much more than pretty"
Kate interrupted with scornful empha
SIS. You do not know her.
"No-only through you. But even
my confidence in your judgment cannot
decrease Miss Angell's years or increase
her beauty. l was thinking that life
must grow very duh to such a woman
after 30.'
"And Miss Angel is 40. Dull, duller
dullest. But you never knew so CHEEKY
woman. just an Angel of a spinster
is our Janet; I'm taking lessons of her"
Kate laughed as she ran up the steps
of the boarding house which she and
Janet Angel called home. Alex Terry
laid to his soul the fattering JUNCTION
that Kate staid in London on his ac-
count largely, but the young woman
had sworn allegiance to the elder, and
while Loudon pleased Janet for an
abiding place Kate was content.
Meanwhile Miss Angel has begun to
arrange for a IL hours ride. She would
be far more comfortable in a parlor
car, and the condition of her finances
does not preclude the possibility of any
comfort that money can procure. But
she usually chooses the second-class
coach.
Nothing ever happens in parlor.
When people are altogether comfort
able. they are sure to be stupid"
Having tried both ways, she is en-
titled to use the results of her expert
cnce. The seat before her is reversed,
and the ear being scarcely half filled
she takes possession of all available
territory with clear conscience.
Parcels sent aloft and grip below;
blind and feet happily adjusted, maga-
zine and book beside her, Miss Angel
places pair of glasses astride her con
fessedly too large nose and over her
near-sighted eyes, and proceeds to in
yentory the material which is to pro
dace her promised adventure.
Nothing hopeful, she decides. as she
views the respectable backs of COM
fortsbly clad men and their obvious
womankind, the profiles of several un-
mistakable commercial men and the
Uniformed, somewhat vacant faces of
the young women opposite, who are re-
garding her movements with evident
curiosity. So she opens THE Seats of
the Mighty" at the point of absorbing
interest which put a period to Kates
reading last night She had grieved
then in her whimsical way at leaving
poor Murray al the gallows' foot during
the hours Of their quiet sleep; she
smiled now at the breath of relief
which escaped her at finding he had
been saved from that unsoldierly death.
Goose! OF course. Did he not write
the account years after?" And then she
lost herself in old Quebec.
1t might have been n half hour later.
or an hour, when she lifted her ewes at
the sound of some one near. A small
figure, unseen before, was rising from
the depths of the seat before her foot
rest; it got upon its knees on the
cushions and little pale face was
pressed against The glass. The rain.
beating unkindly, seemed to touch the
sharp features. 1t was such a forlorn
face, and the sense of pity for any form
of childish uuhappiness which some
chiidless women possess in supreme de-
gree stirred painfully in Janet's heart.
The boy pulled himself up farther:
the queerly-fashioned clothing. long
out Of date, brought a vague memory of
small brother, dead since her own
childhood.
AS if his grandmother had saved his
fathers fret suit for him" she thought.
Very tidy WAS the odd outfit; the pre-
else. rusty black bow at the meeting Of
the frayed-edgen linen collar and the
faded, groiesquely large gloves, scrupu-
lousy woven, told-their own sorry little
tale.
Il must get those gloves or'-and