The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1901-10-12

She doesn't know me from Adam"
Hedrick returned and announced that
they had just gone 10 the dining car and
were awaiting him there. lie hurried TO the
diner and made his way to their table.
Uncle Caspar and his niece were facing
him as ne came up between the tables, and
he saw. with no little regret. that he was TO
sit beside the aunt-dircctly opposite the
girl. however. She smiled up at him as he
stood before them. lowing. lie saw the ex-
preston of inquiry in those deep. liquid
eyes OF violet as their gaze wandered over
his hair.
Your head? 1 sec no bandage.' she said.
reproachfully.
There is a small plaster and that is ali.
only heroes may have dangerous wounds"
he said, laushingly.
rs herOism i'm America measured by the
number Of stitches or the size of the plas-
teri" she asked. pOintedly. "In my country
it is a JOY, and not a calamity. Wounds are
the misfortune of valor. Pray, be seated.
Mr.. Lorry-is it not?'. she said, pronounce
ing it quantity.
He sat down rather suddenly on hearing
! her utter his name. How had she learned
II? Not a soul on the train knew it, he was
sure.
Il am Caspar Guggenslocker. Permit me,
Mr.. Lorry, to present my wife and my
niece, Miss Guggenslocker,'' said the uncle.
more gracefully than he had ever heard
such a thing uttered before.
In a daze, stunned by the name-Guggen-
slocker-mystifed over their acquaintance
with his own when he had been foiled at
every fair attempt to learn theirs, Lorry
could only humble his acknowledgements.
In all his life he had never lost
of himself as at this moment Guggen-
slocker! He could feel the dank sweat Of
disappointment starting on his brow. \
butcher-a beer maker-a cObbler-a gar
dener-all synonyms Of Guggenslocker. A
sausage manufacturers niece-Miss Gug-
genslocker! He tried to glance unconcern-
edly at her as he took up his napkin, but his
eyes wavered helplessly. She was looking
serenely at him, yet he fancied he saw a
shadow of mockery in her blue eyes.
If you were a novel writer, Mr.. Lorry,
what manner of heroine would you
choose?' she asked, with a smile so tanta-
hzing that he understood instinctively
why she was reviving a topic once aban-
doned. His confusion was increased. Her
uncle and aunt were regarding him calmly
expectantly, he imagined.
II have no ambition to be a novel writ
err he said, so L have not made a study
of heroines."
But you would have an IDEAL she per-
sisted.
I'm sure I-Idon't-that is. she would not
necessarily be a heroine. Unless, of course,
it would require heroism to pose as an ideal
for such a pyosaic fellow as l.
ITO begin with, you would call her Clara
IL
possible. You know the name of a heroine
in a novel must be euphonious. That is an
e~xacting rule 1t was an open taunt, and
he could see tina she was enjoying his dis
comfture. 1t aroused his indignation and
his wits.
II would first give my hero a distin-
Suished name. No matter what the hero
ines name might be-pretty or otherwise
could easily change it to his in the last
chapter She flushed beneath his now
bright. keen eyes and the ready, though
unexpected retort. Uncle Caspar placed his
napkin to his lips and coughed. Aunt
Yvonne studiously inspected her bill of fare.
NO matter what you call a rose, it is al
ways sweet" he added, meaningIy.
At this she laughed gOod-naturedly. He
marveled at her white teeth and red lips.
A rose, after all. Guggenslocker, rose; rose,
not Guggenslocker No. no. A rose only!
He fancied he caught a sly look of triumph
In her uncle's swift glance toward her. But
Uncle Caspar was not a rose-he was Gug-
genslocker. Observation-Disclosures, Still.
he did not look the part-no, indeed. That
extraordinary man a butcher, a gardener,
a-and Aunt Yvonne? Yet they were Gug-
genslockers.
Here is the waiter the girl observed.
10 his relief. Il am famished after my
pleasant drive. 1t was so bracing, was it
not, Mr.. Grenfall Lorry?"
Give me a mountain ride always as an
appetizer, he said. obligingly. and so ended
the jest about a name.
The orders for the dinner were given and
the quartet sat back in their chairs to await
the coming of the soup. GrenfaIl was still
wondering how she had learned his name.
and was on the point of asking several
times during the conventional discussion of
the weather. the train and the mountains.
lie considerably refrained, however. un-
willing to embarrass her.
Aunt YvOnne tells me she never exnected
to see me alive after the station agent tele-
graphed that we were coming overland in
that awful old carriage. The agent at
- - - q Ibdu. a { N
very edge of the mountain. He also in
creased the composure of my uncle and
aunt by telling them that a wagon rolled
off yesterday, killing a man. two women
and two horses. Dear Aunt Yvonne. how
troubled you must have been"
I'll confess there were times when 7
thought we were rolling down the noun
tain said Lorry. with a relieved shake Of
the head.
Sometimes 1 thought we were soaring
through space, whether upward or down.
ward, 1 could not tell. We never failed 10
come To earth. though, did we?' she
laughingly asked.
'Emphatically Earth and a little grief
he said. putting his hand to his head.
Does it pain your she asked. quickly.
Not in the least. | was merely feeling TO
see If the cut were still there. MIr-Mr.
Guggenslocker, did the conductor object TO
holding the train?' he asked. remembering
what the conductor had told him Of the old
g~entleman's actions.
AT first. but / soon convinced him that
it should be held said the other. quietly.
My husband spoke very harshIy TO tho
poor man." added Aunt Yvonne. But.
am afraid, Caspar. he did not understand =
word you said. You were very much y
cited" The sweet old lady's attempts n
English were much more laborious than her
husbands.