Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1899-05-20
&C ~ Id man, | want your ad-
Dahanham broke n niece of

| silence tnaI nau laSleu SOlne ten Hill
utes or so
Its rather a curious affair."" he be-
| gan. diffidently. 1T happened last
night. | wanted to go to Bayswater to
see my old nurse, who lives there. |
took the bus at oxford Circus. AS
dare say, you remember it was nasty
night, wet and foggy, and the vehicle
was soon full; in fact, by the time we
reached WeStbourne Grove there was
only room for another. Here we picked
up our last passenger. She was a
young lady"
And of course you contrived that
she should sit by YOU" | said.
you would have done the same
Yourself" Debenham retorted. ANY
man would. for she had the sweetest
face. It's haunted me all night-it has,
really. | dare say she was about Is, or
perhaps 20-not more. She had brown
eyes very brown eyes-yOu know, the
kind that seem to speak almost-and
they were shaded by long lashes. She
had brown hair, too-the kind of hair
that twists itself into a lot of little
curls-natural curls, you know. |
wonder why all girls don't wear their
hair that way. Then her mouth-her
mouth"
Never mind the mouth" l inter
posed, hastily, seeing that he was about
to indulge in an extravagant flood of
rhapsody. at was an ideal mouth, l
haven't doubt"
"She sat down next to me-" he went
on. "There wasn't much room, and
she thanked me when l moved. She
had the sweetest voice"
We'll, there's nothing curious about
that. believe you said"
I'm coming to it if you'll only give
me time" he returned. in an aggrieved
tone. you've no patience. 1t was
when the conductor came round for
fares Then she felt for her purse; she
found it was missing. At first she
thought she must have dropped it, and
searched the floor and under the seat.
However, it wasn't there. Poor girl!
| never saw any one so distressed in
my life. 1t seemed she had IS in it,
d
her. Well, | paid her fare for her, and
we got out together
Il don't think you need tell me any
more" | said dryly.
Debenham stared.
"Why not?"
because | know the rest"
GLOW the
do
course. My dear fellow, you've been
had"
Il didn't do anything of the kindw
Debenham retorted hotly. "She would
MT let me. That's what | came to ask
your advice about. | thought that as
you were lawyer you might be able
to suggest something, but l wish I'd
never mentioned it to YOU"
OF course | FASTENED to soothe his
rutf1ed plumes, and in little while he
went on with his tale. 1t appeared
that he had seen her home, and that he
| had learned her name. 1t was Charm
ley-Kate Charnley. She was a dress
maker, and lived with her sister.
"And you want to help them, eh?" l
said, after a time.
Yes. but it'll be q difficult matter.
They're clergyman's daughters, and
very proud. | don't see what | can do.
It's awfully rilng, you know, Ken
MON, to have pile of money and not
be able to do little good with it once
| in n Itc 81 cho that This UirI
should have to slave at a sewing ma
chine all day while a great strong beg
gar like me lounges around killing
| time"
Il suppose you want to refund this
E5."
Eyes; [ can't do more, but l don't
even see how can do that"
well, you might order a gown of
some sort from them"
Don't be an ass; men don't buy
gowns"
You could say it was for your sis
ter"
But haven't got a sister, and If
had she'd never let me choose her
gowns for her; besides, she'd have to
be fitted on and all that, you know"
| was obliged to admit the force of
these arguments, and fresh period of
silence interviewed. Debenham had
risen, and was pacing the floor in a
state of perplexity.
How would it be If l inclosed the
money in an envelope and sent it anon
ymously?' he said at length.
piled, after little consideration.
But she'd be sure to know who sent
IT."
well, that doesn't matter, as you are
not likely to see her again."