The age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1897-1902, 1899-10-01
The Story of
christopher
BY ELAINE CARTWRIGHT.

Duihes looklnS over the top OF the paper
from which he had read the advertisement.
something tells me that this is the chance
of your life. Take down that address: X.
F., this Office -
Il don't want any chance of my life,"
said Christopher Engle, putting doggedy
at his after-breakfast pipe and fixing his
eyes on the paper-covered novel he was
busy with.
Tut, TUT" said Burke That's too bad.
Christopher. When man of your age
not yet thirty, l Extraordinarily turns
his back on the opportunity of a happy
home. oh, dear! Do you want to go down
to the grave, a sour old bachelor with no
one to love your
Still Christopher kept his eyes on the
page before him, but if Burke had been
watching as closely as he might have been,
he would have noticed that the effort
Engle was making not to notice his badin-
age was becoming greater at every mo-
ment Burke had relapsed into silence
when his further search for the curious in
the pages of the Sunday morning paper
was interrupted by a sigh from his COM
panion.
Hello, Christopherr he said. as that
very melancholy book you re reading. or
are your thoughts wandering after that
last idea | suggested to your
"Oh, | don't know said Engle "let me
read, will you?'
Him. Well, 1 don't know, either. I think
YOU ought to be stirred up this morning.
l have good mind to go and look up this
heautious widow"
How do you know she's widow"
'"fhere again I'm going by instinct,
Christopher-same instinct that tells me
this is the chance of your life
And how about your life, Burke. If I
were to go and get married, you know, you
would be left terribly lonesome
I'D come and board with you or get your
mr. 10 fpxNn l,af-
friends and relations. Look here, man, do
you know what I'm going to do?'
How the devil should anyone know what
you are going to do, Burke?'
by my telling. I'm going to answer
this adj
"Well?"
Then IN hand her over to you"
Thanks. Always understood that / am
no ways bound to have anything to say to
her"
You always were obstinate. Never
mind
And Engle did not mind He let the whole
interruption pass as a mere outbreak of
Burke's irresponsible "frskiness.' as he
was accustomed to call it, His mind would
keep wandering back over the past. some
now; and he could not, that morning do
what he would keep down certain mem
ores, years old, of things that had passed
IN his own life and that of one other per-
sen.
But. really. there was no telling what
burke would do. Sometimes it was what
ne SAID he would do, sometimes quite the
opposite This time it was the former
FOR IN less than two weeks Burke might
nave been seen dressed in the height of pro-
piiety and distinction, ringing the door
bell OF pretty fiat in a fashionable part
of town.
81 was to present this card" he said TO
a decidedly pretty, though somewhat sad
eyed girl who opened the door for him
Have | the honor of addressing Mrs.
Conway?"
In spite of her sad eyes. the girl seemed
to have some difficulty in suppressing a
smile.
NO she said, 81 am Mrs Conway's
companion. Come in please. Mrs. Con-
way will be with you in few minutes"
Burke took chair in a very prettiy fur
nished sitting room, and after five min
utes' waiting, he understood the young
woman's inclination to laugh when he had
mistaken her for Mrs. Conway.
Mrs. Conway entered in what many of
her sex would describe as a state of fus-
iration." There was a wisp of hair on
her forehead which did not seem to ex-
actly match the rest of the scalp in color
and which. moreover. hung more Imply
than it should, when 1T had evidently been
put there to curl and look Juvenile. She
was a widow, as Burke said to himself
widow, and mistake about it, He
oohSu HHhocls IlOW ulltil Has SHE Deen u
widow?
81 am very pleased to see you at last,
Mr. Engle,'' said Mrs. Conway, lowering
the window blind and giggling nervously.
''Thank you, ma'am, said Burke, who
had had the audacity to use his friends
name in the correspondence which had pre-
ceded this meeting. 81 beg your pardon,
Mrs. Conway. but might l lower that other
blind? My-er-my eyes are not very
strong
1t was a reasonably bright and sunny
afternoon, but the glare was not really
overwhelming as to justify Burkes ex-
treme care for his eyes But, in truth,
new and sudden inspiration had come to
him, and he had taken a resolve to plunge
yet deeper into duplicity.
Are your eyes delicate?'' Mrs. Conway
asked him with a most winningly coaXing
intonation. $50 are mine.''
yes" said Burke; II don't know how
much longer 1 may enjoy the blessing of
sight. 1t is my constant endeavor to pro-
long the time as much as possible"
The widow started little at this.
Surely you are only a young man yet,
Mr.. Engle?" she asked, with something like
trepidation.
Madam" said Burke. pretending to be
very much embarrassed, II have a confess
sion to make
You are precipitate. Mr. Englev'
about what / have said to you in our
brief correspondence, l mean" Burke con-
tinued. II have to confess that, led on
er-let me say. tempted. by the promise Of
so much happiness, have prevaricated in
one respect-I am older than l, at first rep
resented myself
st. too. Mr.. Engle," the widow hastily
took him up. 81, too, am no longer-no
longer"
("Any chicken") Burke said under his
breath
81 am no longer in my first YOUTH
Here there was pause in the dialogue.
Burke wanted it so. He wanted the
widow, as he expressed 1t in his own
thoughts, ito get rattled,' and he knew
that his silence, where she expected an
answer, would add to her embarrassment.
Then he would escape.
The silence was broken by sob. 1t was
Mrs. Conway who did the sobbing.
Madam" said Burke, fevershly grab
bling his hat, 81 can see that you are agi-
tated. 1t is natural. Let us continue our
conversation another time-on Monday
next"
Before she had time to answer his appeal
for directions, Burke had plunged through