The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1899-12-22
Brougham With White Horse.

This is a prologue. Jacob and Sarah
| Blunt were Wisconsin farmers who made
| their farm pay and who stood for fru-
gality and hard work early and late. AS
life unrelieyed by pleasure is apt to
wear upon the nerves, they were exceed
ingly ill-natured with each other and with
their son and daughter-both OF whom
they really loved, if only they had taken
the time to show it. It happened, IN
fortunately for their boy, that he attend
ed the Methodist meeting house during a
revival season and. needing some outlet
for his pent-up emotions, got in a state
of rather excitable religious eIation- This
was not the sort Of thing that commend
| ed itself to the Blunts. They We're judi
| cious, unima gfnative, and unsympathetic.
| They rallied greatly at poor Sam. and ne
| fancied he was acquiring the distinction
| of martyrdom But this did not entirely
console him for constant abuse. His spirit
| sank within him. He was made so mis-
| cradle that ne would gladly have parted
with life. Had his parents really under
| stood this they would have desisted, but
| it was only Polly, his little sister, who
! c0mprehended it. In silence she gave him
| her sympathy. She lay awake nights try
ing to think Of some way by which she
could work out his deliverance; but 1t
was he who did it.
! One night he went to the woodpile to
| bring in the wood for the night. Polly
| thought it strange that he should have
patted her head in passing, and she had
| good reason to remember 1t later. For
! he never came back His seat in school
/ remained untitled by him, he no longer
| kneeled at the sinners bench where he
| had poured out his emotional agony; the
| path to the pasture felt his feet no more,
and the stern father and mother yearned
in In frv h. nd Of n &c AS
Polly, all her dreams were of meeting
him. But the years went by and she grew
to womanhood and neither she nor any
one else heard word of him.
Now as to the story: Polly grew up TO
be an energetic and ambitious young wo-
man. She insisted on going to the State
University after she had finished her high
school course, and there she made num-
Der Of delightful friends. The most init
mate of these visited her during the
summer vacations at the old farm, and,
after this young woman was married and
had a home of her own in Chicago she
insisted upon visit from Polly.
Polly went eagerly. She longed for
glimpse of city life, which she seemed
to already know and understand, and in
which she wished to participate. Within
a week after her arrival she was enjoy
ing teas and luncheons, as If she had
been in the midst of them all her life.
She took to the city as to her natural
element, and every one who met her felt
the fascination of her frank, hearty ways
and her unconcealed happiness. The suf-
fering she had endured in her childhood
from sternness and dullness made her
disproportionately grateful for the kind
ness and gayety with which she was sur
rounded.
But even then, in the midst of her en-
joyment, she was not able TO forget the
great sorrow of her life-the loss of her
brother No matter how thronged the
street, she could not keep herself from
peering at each face to scrutiniZe it with
a hope which would not die. 1t was there
fore a qualification to her to accept her
friends invitation to use her brougham
one afternoon to take her down to the
shops. She gave instruction to the coach
man to drive slowly, and she INDUCED
herself in her desire to examine every
man who passed. But all the faces look
ed strange and alien-one appealed to
her.
Arrived at her destination, she said to
the coachman that she would return with
in half an hour, and, thinking to herself
that she would have no trouble in pick
ing out the white horse and the modest
She was, of course, gone much longer
than half an hour. but when she came
out in the early winter twilight she had !
the satisfaction of seeing the expected |
white horse and brougham near at hand
and close to the curb. The driver was
absorbed in watching the crowd, so she |
opened the door herself and speaking the |
bne word, Home made herself COM
Portable within.
mi IL. I1Fn -
houses-a confusing row. The one thing |
in her friends belongings of which Polly I
disapproved was her house in a monoto- !
nous row Of dwellings. 1t seemed to her /
as she ran UP the stairs that the place !
was not entirely familiar, but, laying 1T |
to her fatigue and the strange light of |
the smoky twilight, she dismissed her |
hesitancy. Some one stood jJst within /
the glass door. She tapped lightly and /
the door was opened A second later she |
saw with bewildermeut that she was In /
a house absolutely unknown to her.
In confusion she turned to the servant |
who had opened the door for her, but /.
he had vanished. The next second she
encountered, face to face, a man who
looked a her in as much wonderment as
she did at him. The brow, the eyes, the
carelessly cOmbed curls OF this man were
"a familiar as her dearest memory. But
she schooled herself to wait till she had
more TO convince her.
I've made some mistake. II was ex-
pecting to find myself In Mrs. Richard
Quincy's house I certainly came here
m her brOUgham, and 1 had told her
man to take me 10 her home. I really
don't know. sir
Excuse me- my. dear madam it was
my brougham which brought you to this
door"
But the white horse"
WAS my white horse"
and you were expecting
My wife. who, 1 suppose, is in state
OF mind by this time because she cannot
find her vehicle"
20, what a stupid dot I have been"
She was not caring at all about the
brougham. nor the woman. nor her stu
pidity. She was only thinking: Dare
| ask him? Is 1t possible that il can be
he? Is it possible that It can be anybody
else. with those eyes-that trick Of the
nair?"
She turned to look about her, and the
brought the two Of them side
oy side before a large mirror In the hall
The eyes Of both of them were riveted
lpon what they saw-a man and woman
IF almost equal height, with eyes Of
int iEenticaIiy the same. with broEs q
unusual height and waywari. pale hair
Turning from the counterfeit OF them
selves. they looked straight Into each
2ther's living eyes.
sam" said Polly. with q sharp coatch I
II the breath. haven't you brought the
wood IL yet?'
he tossed back his hair with ar imos-
lent haud-an Old familiar trick q his
md then he caught his sister in his arms. :
Dear little Polly. Dear little Polly !
& was all be could say. ard unconscious
Y he ratted her head as he had done OF /