The Topeka state journal., 1901-11-30
NOT In THE INTERVIEW.
[From Mainly About People.l


wind swept in. Miss Broughton read
| all the brief notices pinned on the call
board and with the impatient wearI-
| ness of one who is accustomed to wait
| the convenience of other people, she
leaned against the wall, in apparent IN
difference to the passing of time.
In spite of all her self-assurance-
Alice BroughtOn had earned her own
living for ten years, and five of those
as a London journalist-she trembled
at the thought Of a short interview with
Lawrence Bright. What would he say?
Would the time and the place drift
away from him, as it did even now from
her?
She heard the orchestra burst into
triumpha1 march; the play was over;
and in a fewNseconds the inner door was
opened and young cavalier, with his
great plumed hat dangling from MS
hand, looked out. There was no flash
of recognition as Miss Broughton step
ped toward him. He was frankly apollo
getic and unconscious
80 sorry to keep you waiting till the
end of the ma tinee,'' Lawrence began,
aand even now I hardly know where to
come, Miss Broughton-you II find me a
very poor subject. Where could We
talk?"
Lawrence turned his eyes searchingly
for the first time on the face of the lady
journalist.
mean? Why didn't you send in your
name? Come you're not a real live
interviewer, are you?"
LAS for my name. Lal," she answered,
don't you remember that I told you,
when we first met, that 'Silverthorpe'
was only assumed
'-Then you've quite given up the
stage?"
mo. it gave me up several years
agoi'
-sNba+ about s7roay,c of fap,e co1r-
age, endurance? Have you forgotten
how you used to lecture me in New
York? I'm disappointed Alice will you
wait ten minutes while I change? l
won't be second 1onger!"
With boyish laugh and a backward
look of mingled tenderness and mock
cry, he sped away, and Alice Broughton
pushed the stage door open and looked
out into the dreary street. The sound
of his voice, the expression of his face
so gloomy and hopeless when she saw it
last--flled her with joy. All the events
of seven years swiftly fitted through
her mind Alice had been a girl of %
at the time when she met Lawrence
Bright in New York. She was playing
a small part in an English company,
and he was stranded" Lonely and
alone in a great city, Lawrence was
drifting rapidly down the stream, when
the determined girl had saved him with
a friendship most >unusual, and mag
unanimous. Without beauty or any
charm, she had won the entire conf
dence of a young, moody, impression
able man.
Returning, Lawrence asked her to
dine with him, and called a cab.
7 can't take you to my place. he
said. I've only just moved into a new
fiat, and this afternoon is such a chap
ter out of my past life that l can't bear
to share it-or you-with anybody
elsel"
Dear Lal. You must tell me every
thing for the interview in our last five
minutes When did the great oppor-
tunity come? L knew you would be
ready at the right minute! Do you
remember when I first told you SOP"
Yes. I was in despair, and you
you We're in blue muslin. Have you
given up blue muslin? I've given up
despairl"
The foolish words Jared on Alice, but
she instinctively adapted herself to his
present mood. They talked about New
York-the theaters-the actors-the
streets-till the lights Of the Strand
seemed as bright as the glitter of
Broadway, and the Thames was SPAN
ned, in their imagination, by the chain
of stars that outline Brooklyn bridge
great success. AS they looked at each
other, in the glitter of bright lights,
Lawrence noticed for the first time
since their meeting how worn and hag-
gard his friend had grown.
IT seem to owe all my success to
you," he exclaimed.
And I owe all my happiness to you"
Alice answered.
Bending toward him, with her thin
hands clasped tightly beneath her chin,
she commenced to talk about the strug-
gle and stress of her own life.
AS Lawrence listened, he felt more
and more that her confidence was self
forgetful and unrestrained. Their old
positions were reversed; Alice was alb
sorbed in the unconscious revelation of
her longing for his sympathy. Law
renee grew serious; he found himself
surprised into conversation that was
both intimate and emotional
Leaning forward and listening intent
ly, his hand rested for a minute near
to Alice's arm on the table With a
rapid movement, unlike herself. she
clasped both her hands round his.
''Lal, dear" she murmured, "every-
thing has changed-my 1ife-the world
but you are the same!''
s'JuSt the Samei' he repeated push
ing his hair back from his forehead
But d'you know, Alice, I haven't told
you anything for the interview, have
II"
I'm afraid you have heard it all be-
fore" he went on, after pause.
Struggles, tours, the deadly common
placeI But when my chance came at
last, three years ago. It was all owing
to-a womanS goodness A woman of
great charm, great talent I don't know
how to express it, but she seems to
draw one into an atmosphere of color
and fragrance; not strictly beautiful
but in her buoyant youth like a flower
in bloom There's a fine sentence for
you, Alicei She was very kind to me
from the beginning. I found myself
getting into one good thing after an
other. She has always been popular,
and people are good enough to rather
like US both. You must come and see
my wife, said Lawrence, It have so
often told her about New York. 7 want
you to like her. I am sure she will like
you"
The sentence ended feebly AIice's
face was cast down in shadow: he
could see nothing but the dark outline
of the dropping head. There was a long
silence. When Alice moved at last, she
looked inquiringly at Lawrence.
.'Dnn't You think it is time to go y