The Somerset reporter., 1899-09-14


He managed before long to lead her
away from the crowd. Then he asked
when are you going to give me that
story you spoke off,
She looked at him as if she were
frightened and answered almost in
whisper:
Never.
"Why?"
81 must not. 1t would be wrong"
mo story that you have to tell me. 3"
be said, could be wrong"
She looked at water color upon the
wall and asked:
Have you ever noticed how that
artist failed in his foreshortening?"
Hang that artist' Whitford ex-
claimed "You know you are not inter
ested in his picture. Say that you will
tell me the story. Do it for my sake.
With it know | could make the world
listen.
She looked up at him, and after they
had gazed into each others eyes for
moment she replied;
"Well, some day perhaps.
"Oh, here you are. " exclaimed man
to whom Mrs Lobdell was engaged for
the next dance. Come on; they've be.
gun.
George Whitford sat alone for awhile
and then went into the ballroom to find
Mrs Wimherton waiting for him. He
had forgotten that his name was upon
her card for that number.
1t was long week for Whitford, that
next one, and there was u huge disap
pointment for him at the end of it.
When Mrs Lobdell arrived at the
Orpheus club, her husband was with
her.
But Luoius Lobdell was not one of
those selfish fellows that keep their
ing parties. He put his name upon the
cards of several married ladies as a mat
ter of duty and then rushed in among
the young folk, for he had fondness
for girls especially as dancing partners.
So it was not long before Whitford
had an opportunity to lead Beatrice
Lobdell into the refreshment room and
from there to little nook off one of the
parlors.
81 believe, he said, that there is
such thing as fate, and that am one
of it's victims. "
YES" she replied, 81 know there is
such thing as fate, and it has many
victims.
"Why did he come this evening"
Whitford asked after they had been ST.
lently looking at each other for awhile
II don't know" she answered He
proposed it himself. u
81 was afraid" he said, "that you
had asked him to come.
No; never ask him to go anywhere
with me, "
"Do you know that have been think
ing out story during the past few
days" Whitford said, (which, fancy,
must be very like the one you have
promised to tell me some timer
"Have your she replied, looking
away from him and toying with the
cord attached TO her card.
Yes. Shall give you the outline
of it,
Lob, let US wait until some other
timel"
mo; let me tell it now, " he urged.
She looked up at him in pleading
way and said:
"Please not now. must not hear it
now.
But you will some time"
Perhaps"
"When?"
"Oh, we must wait long, long
time
mo, shall not wait, I" he declared
at is the story of man and woman,
or a man who was always arriving too
late, of a woman who was sweet and
good and beautiful who
mo, nor she interrupted. Her
cheeks were ablaze, her voice was low
and tremulous, and she looked eagerly
for a chance to get past him.
mo, no; you must not tell me any
more p
Beatrice" said her husband behind
her, "come; have been hunting for
you. e"
She took bis arm and went.
"What on earth were you talking
about to that fool?' he asked as they
walked away.
She looked up at him. There was an
angry frown upon his face, such look
as she had not seen there since she had
been his wife
Her heart beat joyously She felt as
if she were heing carried along by him
She knew that he was jealous.
AS for George Whitford-oh, we'll,
he as only man anyway cleveland
Leader.