Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1901-08-30

-dear!"
It was a very poor pun, but you
laughed and dimpled, glancing up at
him through your long, dark lashes.
for you knew only too well you had
added another heart to your already
outrageously long number of devoted
slaves, and you even smiled when you
heard Miss Primly say, quite audibiy
(as you passed out of the room):
Outrageous firtl Mr.. North, how
can you admire her?"
You will meet Jim tonight, and he
will mutter: Delighted to see you.
Mrs. Gouvenier," and will cross to the
opposite side of the room, where he
will look at you longingly and bite
his mustache savagely, thinking how
selfish your husband is to forbid you
to dance, because he Is too old to find
any pleasure in it himself.
They will all be there, the old
friends ct seems much longer than
two months since you went abroad;
have you missed them?)
Did 1 say "all?" No, not all, for I
remember a pale face, with such ear
nest gray eyes.
He found more important things in
lie Iudn treasures duu VALVES. hCA
were so many poor to help, so many Ill,
SO much suffering and unhappiness. He
took life "too seriously" Jim had said.
I do not see why your mouth should
droop so at the corners. Don't do it,
Phyllis, 1t spoils .Cupid's bow. Is
there still pain in your heart when
you think of that poor boy? Well.
don't do it. then; forget him; there are
SO many you should be sorry for. and
it is rather late to begin now.
There is a step on the stairs; how
quickly your face changes as you rec
ognize your husbands step. All the
life has died out of it and it has grown
cold and expressionless. You rise to
meet him as he comes toward you.
Ny dear Phyllis, do be careful
It would never do for him to see your
face as it is now, such a look of long
ing has come into it as the thought. sit
might have been so different if" goes
beating through your brain. But with
master stroke of self-restraint, yea
force smile and lower the eyes that
are filling with tears so fast you dare
not trust them, and say with half
laugh and voice that is perhaps
trife unsteady: Don't look lovely?
Is it time to go, dear?"
Just then you are interrupted by the
sharp noise of door being shut yio-
lently. Everything grows dim and con-
fused. Your husband seems to grow
DINNER and DINNER until he fades
away into the darkness; you rub your
eyes and look with astonisment at me.
I also have changed, from stately
pier glass to little oval mirror hang
ing over your desk. You look into ME
with eyes that can hardly believe the
vision of yourself that 1 reflect, for in
stead of your Paris wedding gown you
have on a dainty matinee jacket anG
your hair falls in pretty confusion over
your shoulders. You stretch out your
hand to letter that lies before you on
ySnr desk and with glance of won
der you read in your own penmanship
these words:
Washington, D. c., Jan. Is. 1900
Dear Maj. Gouvenier: I have seri-
ously considered the question you
asked me last evening. and feel much
honored that you should wish me to
become your wife. If can add to your
happiness by giving you the answer
you so much desired"
What is the matter?
Why should you crush the letter in
your hand and then tear it up and
throw it into the waste paper basket?
The confused look has left your face;
you are beginning to realize that after
writing that letter this morning you
leaned back in that comforta BILE chair
and thought of the great happiness
that was in the future for you.
You imagined yourself as a wealthy
woman, thinking of the many delight
full things the majors" money could
do for you.
Gradually you grew drowsy, you
leaned your head against the back of
your chair, your eyes closed-the
dream that followed did not picture the
future at all as you had imagined it
would be: you realized too late tit
seemed too late in your dreamy that
money alone could not bring you hap
piness, and that it was not so easy as
you had hoped it would be to forget
certain pair of gray eyes. 7 confess
that all through that dream did all
could to make you see the mistake you
would make if you did so in reality.
What are you doing, Phyllis?
Surely, you are not so childish as to
write to that poor, discouraged mis-
sionary on the western prairies? And
you really intend to give him the an
swer he has longed for for the past
three mont tbs?
Well. you are queer girl to let a
mere dream influence you so. What
will society say?
The beautiful, proud Miss Phyllis
Varian to be married to missionary,
to give up the gay life she has found so
pleasant, to live in wretched little log