, 1899-02-09
AN UNTOLD STORY.

Lucius Lobdell had married one of
the sweetest girls in the world, but he
seemed to lose sight of that fact as soon
as he found himself bound to her for
life.
A good many things were necessary
two years after their marriage to keep
Mr.. Lobdell from finding life burden
some. Among these were four clubs,
several fine horses, which he handled
himself at the ''gentlemen's matinees,
and the privilege of going and coming
when he pleased.
II Beatrice Lobdell grieved because
of his neglect, she did so in the strictest
secrecy, and succeeded in retaining her
beauty through it all.
1t was whispered, however, that she
didn't care, but there is great deal of
whispering in society that is unwar-
ranted. Certainly Mrs. Lobdell might
have had admirers if she had wanted
them. Indeed she did have them, but
they had to admire from a distance un.
til George Whitford arrived upon the
scene.
The Lob1ells had joined a fashiona-
BILE family club, not that Mr.. Lobdell
cared for it, but he wanted his wife to
have some place where she could enjoy
herself while he was not with her.
You see, he was a kind hearted, chival-
rous fellow in spite of the fact that it
bored him to be much in the presence
of the beautiful young woman he had
once loved SO madly.
The whole trouble, if you must know
it, was that they were unsuited to each
other. Mrs. Lobdell had a taste for the
artistic. Her husband was not inclined
that way. He was one of the best anna
teur drivers in town-no one knew the
fine points about n horse better than he.
He belonged to the athletic club, had
been known to walk seven miles through
the country mud in order to see a for
hidden prizefght. and he had won a
medal on the golf links.
Beatrice Lobdell's enthusiasm over
rare old prints, Fitzgerald's rendering
of the Rubyiat, and all that sort OF
thing seemed silly to him.
But one evening when she had ac-
companied the Wimbertons to the
Thursday evening c%otillon party at the
Orpheus club, she met George Whit
ford. He danced with her and talked
about things in which she was interest.
ed. He could quote 40 of Fitzgerald's
best quatraiDs, and Mrs. Lobdell said
when the Wimbertons were ready to 90
home that she was very glad to have
met him.
After that it became customary for
Beatrice Lobdell to attend the Thurs.
day evening parties with the Wimber-
tons, II George Whitford's name
doomed up conspicuously upon her pro.
gramme.
ITS u pity" he said to her one
evening when they were sitting on. a
dance in the parlor, that you were
born in luxury"
"Why?" she asked.
"If it had been otherwise you would
have added something 20 the worlds
literature that would have lived. The
absence of necessity is unfortunate in
your case"
"Do you really think l have talent?''
II am sure of it,"
Whitford was beginning to be known
in the world of letters as a novelist and
essayist. He wss young, handsome and
not much of a favorito with men. But
most women regarded him as interest
ing.
Mrs. Lobdell looked ut him earnestly
and sighed.
perhaps l would have been happier,
too, " she said, eff 1 had been compelled
to do something more than sit around
and feel that my life was going to
waste"
why not do it anyway" he asked
after awhile. Suppose we collaborate
ON q story"
~ think" she answered, that l
could give you the outline of a story
that would interest the world"
There was something in her tone-a
tinge of wistful sadness.-that brought
the color to his checks. He bent for
ward eagerly to make a reply. but she
hurriedly rose, saying:
"Come, we must not sit here any
longer"
He followed her back to the ballroom,
and when they parted that evening he
pressed her hand very gently, while his
heart went at a violent pitch.
She avoided his look and said Good
by" instead of Good night"
George Whitford waited for their
next meeting with boyisb impotence,
and when the evening arrived it sud-
denly occurred to him that she might
not come. In that case he didn't know
what he would do. But when the VIM
bertons put in an appearance she was
with Them, and he saw that her cheeks
Redeemed when he went forward to
greet her.
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 a
whisper:
"Nover."
"WhyT"
II must not. It would be wrong"