The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1901-07-13
A SECRET AFFINITY.

isnlnS touches to her toilet After re-
peated failures, tickle fortune had at last
smiled upon her. and under the warmth
OF that smile something Of her lost vOutb
returned The little wrinkles. which are
IlIne tribute to thirty summers and
winters, we're, of course. irremediabIe;
put happiness is a great restorer. as mis-
| cry is a destroyer Of good looks 50 the
sparkle returned to Miss Cynthia's once
beautiful eyes. and her mouth which had
grown hard owing 10 the cruelty of unap-
| preciative editors. assumed its old trick
Of smiling, SC that Miss Cynthia, as the
/ successful authOress. stood rejuvenated.
/ almost as fresh and girlish as in the DAYS
Years previous when she was known as q
| belle and the prospective heiress OF old
! Squire Wakeman. her uncle.
In those days she had many suitors. ov-
| IN, perhsps to her financial prospects.
and perhaps to her sweet personality but
! one after another departed, all frnbued
| with the idea that she was possessed Of
the marble heart. But unknown 10 her
| friends and suitors, Miss Cynthia had one
/ love and one ambition, and that was 10
make name for herself in the world Of
| letters To perform the trivial task. the
common round did not conform with her
! ideas Of an ideal life, so with eyes always
| nxed on Parrassus she wrote sheet upon
! sheet Of fOoIscap and submitted them TO
/ the magazines, but the judgment Of the
/ y
hers and from her heart-who invariably
| returned with the usual polite formula Of
! non-acceptance. And so it came TO pass
! that Miss Cynthia sa/ Parnassus slowly
/ fading from view and feeling that he
/ must have been indeed unkind. sadly laid
aside her pen.
! But fate, which surely had a hand in
/ her affairs, ordained that she should take
/ 1t up again, for one day the old squire
/ was brought some in a dying condition,
/ the result of a fall from his horse and
/ when the viii was read on the day Of tho
/ burial she found herself instead Of an
| heiress, cut off with a yearly pittance.
while the vast estate, which, unknown 70
| her, had been entailed, went to a nephew
Of whose existence she was for the first
time made aware.
But she braveIy concealed her disap-
pointment and once more took Up her pen,
this time with a fierce determination TO
succeed. But alas! fate and the editors
were again unkind.
The postnan became daily visitor TO
her door, but It was always to return her
latest manuscript, the one of which she
had felt the most sure. Thus the years
passed, leaving lines of care on her face,
and then occurred an incident in Miss
Cynthia's life in which she was called
upon to suffer heart experience Of her
own, and when she had arisen from its
ashes she wrote The Tyranny Of Love-"
with what success I have already told;
and with success came forgetfUlness and
she was at least content, until that event
ful day, when CHANGING in one of her few
idle moments to pick up one of the maya
zines which Uttered her table, she came
across a story whose title Love the Ty-
rant" so closely resembled the title OF
her own now famous book that she read
on and on, her face alternately red and 1
white and her eyes flashing with indigna-
ton, for the story was her own in plot
and detail. with scenes relaid and charac- /
ter renamed.
Miss Cynthia's face was a picture of |
righteous Indignation as she finished the |
story and turned to the title page to as
certain the name of this bold plagiarist, 4
and there she found it-Niss Cynthia sat 4
and pondered and then finally arose with /
a look of determination and seated herself l
at her desk. This John Gallahead might /
think himself very clever man, but he I
was plagiarist nevertheless, and as such 4
she determined to expose him to the pub /
fishers.
This was Miss Cynthia's motive as she I
seated herself at her desk, but Just at this /
moment a letter was handed to her by 1
her trim maid: the writing was unfamiliar /
and masculine, and she Immediately tore /
it open. and this is what she read:
Mr.. John Broadands:
Dear sir:-I have just finished reading
your book, ''The Tyranny Of Love and /
feel that I should like to know the author.
This may seem strange to you, but when /
I tell you that I am also an author and
have written 4 story which, in plot and
detail, So much resembles yours, that
feel there must be a secret affinity be-
tween two souls in whose minds could
develop the same thoughts; when I say
that your book was published before my
story was written and that until after the
publication of mine, did not read yours
you viii no doubt agree with me that the
coincidence is remarkable. 1t seems in
deed, two souis with but a single
thought" May I hope to hear from you
in reply? I am, with irnpatience. sincere
~ yours, JOHN GALLAHEAD."
She is well pleased with her reflection
as she turns away from the mirror. and
she may well be. for her white dress and
golden hair. with the light of expectancy
and something more in her eyes. makes
of her a picture good to look upon. as
with light step and a strangely beat
ing heart, she softly descended the stairs,
50 softly, indeed, that she had the first
glimpse OF her affinity before that per
son was aware Of her proximity.
Comfortably seated IN a chair. which,
though large, seemed all too small for
her ample person, sat a woman. whose
tried to perpetuate by means Of art her
face was fat, her chin double, and her
whole appearance betokeued the utmost
satisfaction with herself and the world at
large. So thought Miss Cynthia as she
stood spellbound for moment watching
her visitor What could her presence /
mesn2 But then Miss Cynthia drew a
sigh Of relief. It was. no doubt, an ennis
sary Of John Galahead's, his mother. PER
haps, and despite herself she shuddered.
and at this moment the woman turned
and confronted the attractive vision IN
the doorway.
For a moment the two stood thus, and
then Miss Cynthia. mindful OF her man
ners and her duties. came forward and
Clssped the hand OF the elder woman
sweetly but inquiringiy. II
expected 10 see Mr.. John Galahead. You
are his emissary2'
Madam" said the woman. while the
hand which held Miss Cynthis's dropped
Imply to her SIDE, I an John Galahead !
and you2'
Il am John Broadland."
Il thought you were man." murmured
Miss Cynthia.
And T." said the elder woman. defiant ]
$, thought you we're man"
The ahsuriity Of the situation did not !
strike either az the women: both stood too
deeply engrossed IN their own bilghted
hopes. The elder woman was the first. {
however % break the painful silence. :
This John BrcaGiand was a famous auth {
or she must concuiste her. 50 claspfng
Miss Cyuthia's hand. she began eausiveIy. Z
But you must admit there was a secret :
affinity
This was too much FOR even gentle Afiss
Cynthia. Is was bad enough &c be tricsed 3
Into believing this creature was a man {
Tith noble thoughts and ideas but 20 have I
her claim affinity with her was the last I
straw