Evening star., 1901-11-23

Seclusion, l believe he's plumb homeSck for
New York. He's been counting big your
coming, and has been over every night
lately"
Almost on the heels of this remark there
came a knock on the door, and Mrs Matt
land admitted a tall, square-shouldered
young fellow, whose face. where it was not
hidden by well-trimmed beard, showed q
newly acquired tan.
Helen was at first inclined to resent the
presence of u stranger on this her first even
ing at home, but the feeling gradually wore
away. Glenn Warner was so thoroughly at
ease in the dim. simply furnished front
room, debonnair in his conversation that
Helen fell to comparing him. and to his
great advantage, with the young men whom
she had occasionally met in the dun-cOlored
parlor at her Harlem boarding house. Yes,
unquestionably this was a New York man.
the sort she had read about, and had seer
occasionally at theaters or driving in the
park, but never before a. such close range.
Young Warner-or was he young? His
beard and eyes wore the thumb marks of
time, but his voice was blithe, almost boy
ish. He steered the conversation modestly
and skillfully away from his book He had
been a mere diIettante in college, but this
was to be something serious. He would
certainly send them an autographed copy
when 1t came out, but in the meantime
there were pleasanter things to think
about. And here he looked straight at
Helen's beautiful gray eyes. The we'll
aimed arrow fell short. Helen was mental
ly arguing whether or not she was glad he
had chosen Benson Harbor as a literary
workshop and she did not catch the admir-
ing look.
BY the next night she had decided in the
affirmative. She found that the interests
of Benson Harbor were no longer her inter-
ests. At 0 am. there had come to her an
intense yearning for the dull office at the
end of the corridor. AT 10 she pictured
Graham slowly. perhaps irritably, inditing
his own correspondence for he had de-
cI bp ha SIIh
she saw the elevator shooting up to the
lunch room on the top floor. At the jani-
tors assistant would enter the office, and
she wondered anXiously If Graham would
lock up every scrap of paper. She had
looked after these details. Hers was tenn
permanent which found its greatest happi-
ness in the knowledge that she was essen
tial to some one. And Graham, in scores of
ways, had shown his dependence upon her,
his faith in her. By o'clock she had lost
her appetite. and the sullen roar of the surf
set her wild for the Shrek and rumble of
the elevated road When Warner arrived
there was genuine welcome in her eyes.
And Warner? Well, he blessed the pros
pect of the next two weeks, and returned
to his old game of love making with the
zest of one who had been deprived of the
life. Not that Benson Harbor could boast
of no pretty girls but they had proved shy.
or silly, or inappreciative, or-engaged. And
Helen was none of these. She carried her
gowns. too. almost as Well as did the wo-
men in his own set; yes. almost as well
as He frowned suddenly, then laughed
with Helen, and forgot.
The friendship progressed as 1t can only
between two young people shut in by bee
Ting crags and sullen waves. On sunny
mornings they rowed across the inlet to
the post office. In the afternoon they went
for long walks, Helen smart and trig in
her rainy-day suit and crimson Tam
OShanter, which matched the color of
Warmers gay sweater. And DINNER and
| weaker became Helen's anxiety about the
condition of affairs in Grahams Office.
She was healthy. spontaneous creature,
and the sudden liberation from office rou-
tine was followed by reaction. The joy
of her Puritan ancestors seemed to run riot
| in her veins. She was free-free to climb the
| rocks to send her boat flashing across the
inlet. to fill her lungs with great drafts of
| sea air-and she was glad just to be alive.
The old love for the sea and the rock-lock-
ed town filled her heart, and she no longer
pined for the brilliant iiuminations of
Broadway and the insistent clatter Of the
elevated trains.
1t was the day before THANKSGIVING and
she stood In the cozy kitchen, where the
| sun poured in through windows on three
| sides. An asthmatic bird. the old house
| hold pet chirped feebly amidst a nest of
| blooming geraniums in the south window.
| 1T don't seem like Thanksgiving day was
/ tomorrow" complained Mrs Maitland.
| crimping the edges of her third pumpkin
pie. There amt sign of storm nor snow
| it's most like Indian summer
| And 1t seems selfish to make up all
| these goodies just for you and Jimmy and
me-" laughed Helen. shifting the spicy air
with undisguised pleasure.
| We'll, you're the prodigals daughter and
twe've got to kill the fatted calf IL its