Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1901-10-31

UST four o'clock and First avenue
u was out in it's best blacks and
shining silks thanked by a dizzy move
ment of prancing steeds and automo-
biles. Elmhurst, the handsome resi-
dence of the McDermots, was con-
scious of the dignity derived from it's
massive carvings, its frowning tur-
rets, its granite pillars. Even the
flowers on the terrace seemed to IN
derstand they were First avenue flow
ers, and the ivy chung to the walls
as fashionable ivy should. A gentle
man was ringing the door bell, a ear
rage waiting by the boulevard.
"Do you know that man?" asked
a passerby of his companion.
mo, I don't think ] do"
Its Rathbury, the artist, the
painter of that picture that's making
such a sensation down at Claire's now
let me see, what do they call it-oh
The Morning-Time.'"
"Oh, yes, / was in to see that yes
terday. Isn't it simply sublime? Such
a commonplace scene. too, but the
1ifei-the life in It'll"
eyes, it's wonderful. They say it's
a settled thing between him and Nc
Dermot's daughter"
Meanwhile the great door of Elm
hurst closed upon its guest, and he
was seated in the cooling shadows of
the moss-green drawing room to
await it's mistress. The mirrors re-
fected a man considerably past 40,
sallow and quite gray. a face stamped
- -oE-A--4- ozl 1r4--n II IaI
been a struggle to his present fame
and success, one which in his youth
he had never thought of asking wOm-
an to share. In fact, oddly enough,
in his early years he had never loved,
and like many another man of genius
he had mistakenly concluded he was
welded to his art. His old house
keeper gave hi1l periodic loses of adj
vice such as you'll nae be a-marryin'
now. Folks hat want to marry
should marry young. When they get
past middle life, if they take a young
un she's too skittish fur them, and if
they take an old I'm like themselves
they're both too fixed and crabbit in
their ways to give in the one to the
t'other."
But in spite of Mrs. Muffet's Opin-
ion he had wearied 1T last of a life
that seemed to him incomplete and
had decided-we1l, in short, he had
decided to marry for friendship.
Now Mrs. Matchmaker, OF First ave-
nue., was quick to read his thoughts
when he came to the city last fall,
and pointed out to him the talented
magazine writer, Miss McDermot. So
it came hat he spent many an even
ing in the moss-green drawing room
discussing Carlyle, and Turner, and
Rembrandt, and Ruskin. She found
him decidedly more interesting than
the portly banker whose suit her
father favored. For who but Irving
Rathbury had such a subtle under
standing of Browning and Shelley and
all those other beings that peopled
her thoughts? Besides Mrs. Grundy
told her it was quite a prOpos, and
Mrs. Grundy understands those
things. Love? All well-not quite,
hut there was at least talent and
friendship.
As for Mr.. Rathbury, he told him
self again and again that he was tax
ing a wise step, and yet at times he
had to brush another face hastily
from his memory. Once-but it had
all happened seven years ago-he had
gone to the country residence of an
old artist to study, and a voice had
thrilled him there. A light form
fitted about the house, painted a lit
tie, sang a little, read thick volumes
and sat on her g~randfather's knee.
There she was carolling across the
great drawing room with an apron
full of May flowers, only the car
pet was the orchard grass with
green boughs and robin songs
above. She came right up to the
canvas where he worked, this
sprite with her fresh cheeks and her
hat tossed back on her sunny hair.
She grew still and watched him with
those wonderful eyes of hers, and
when he opened 50 her his hearts
ideals she understood; and he felt
ah. wen, never mind. For he was al
most 20 and she was but Is.
A word just now might win her.
For what? Regret? She was a child
as vet and he was twice her years.
Bind her to fame and gray hairs:
Nayi She shone fairest there. She