Meade County news. [volume] (Meade, Kan.) 1900-1918, 1901-07-25

Edwin Brown" repeated Anne.
never will again; l could not stand
it."
When at last she fell asleep, the
letter was clasped in her hands, which
lay folded on the steamer rug, an ad-
dition to the scanty bedding on her
cot, and her breath came in quick
gasps, like the sobs of a little child.
The "atelier" was crowded when
she went to her work in the wet clay
the next morning, and she hoped to
gain her own corner without attract
ing attention. But her pale cheeks
did not escape the notice of the tall
American who was perpetrating a sad
ly misshapen figure near her own
we'll blocked out work.
Are you not well, Miss Weber," he
asked, with a note in his voice of
deeper feeling than the occasion
seemed to demand.
quite well, thank you," Anne re-
piled YEARLY, and the young man
looked at her reproachfully. He want
ed to tell her that she was doing al
together wrong, abusing her health,
wasting her strength, and, worst of
all, breaking his heart, but experience
had taught him that it was not safe
ground of conversation.
1t was the day on which the master,
the great Partisan sculptor, was ex-
pected to criticize, and Anne applied
herself assiduously to her clay, which,
under her deft fingers, rapidly grew
more and more like the model.
L. Ii
young man at length. 81 have tested
my artistic ability and found that l
can't even mold a snow man" He
scornfully chopped off the nose of his
clay figure, which only added another
deformity to the already maimed-look-
ing creature.
my old man always said that art
was not in our blood, but / wanted to
see for myself, and 1t didn't take me
long. Don't think l have not realized
how impossible my work is, but l
have stayed in the atelier-you know
why-and I'll stay yet if you will give
me any hope" he added eagerly.
mo, don't stay" Anne replied, soft
ly. He was such dear boy she could
not be anything but gentle to him.
well, then" he said, disconsolate-
ly, 'I'll throw art over and go into
the string business with Dad, as he
has always wanted me to do"
THAT will be better, l am sure"
said Anne, smiling at the mutilated
torso, for the young man had been
carelessly hacking it while he talked.
THE old man is certainly dead anx-
ious for the prodigals return, for l
got fifty-dollar cablegram from him
this morning, asking me to pull up
stakes and go at once. The dear old
chap wants junior partner, now bus
mess looks so bright. He has just
won a tremendous lawsuit against a
trust; some daring young lawyer car
ried the thing through, and Dad is
crazy over him. He wrote me some
time ago that if the suit was won he
intended to retain the chap as per-
manent counsel for the company. 1t
will be the making of Edwin Bowen,
whoever he isl"
Edwin Bowen?" repeated Anne,
questioningly.
Yes, Edwin Bowen. My old man
even put his name in the cable. say
Ing lHS sui was WOu.
Edwin Bowen." Anne said again.
why, do you know him."
Eyes, very well, indeed" she an
swered, and then she fell in a little
heap on the damp atelier floor, and
the students who rushed to aid the
young man in bringing her out of the
faint. spoke together of the serious
consequences of overwork, and they
all determined to be more moderate
than ever.
AS soon as she felt strong enough
to walk she started back to her room
in Rue Servandoni, and the concierge
met her at the door of the tall, top
ping house with look of alarm, for
she knew that cablegrams were seri-
GUS things, and she had one for the
pale little American madamoiselle.
Anne's fingers trembled as she tore it
open, and her heart bounded as she
read:
Darkest before dawn-success-I
am coming. my love."
Mine words beside the address. and
no code used" said Anne, vaguely.
st must have cost twice as much as
a whole weeks living" and she
laughed a little Historically, as she
quickly mounted the long, narrow
stairs, for her light heart had given
wings to her feet.