Warren sheaf., 1902-02-20
ON THE
REBOUND
By GARFIELD MACNEAL
Copyright, 1901, by
Garfield MacNeal.

the Slckenlng consciousness that she
was an old maid. She parted the
~cretonne curtains of her bed, curtains
covered with red roses, suggestive Of
summer sunshine, and turned her eyes
toward the window. Rain beating
against the panes and dull gray sky
proclaimed a cheerless November day.
She sighed. Then, stretching out a
shapely arm, she took silver hand
mirror from the nearby dressing table
and carefully studied her features.
In the language of Shakespeare she
saw mo deeper wrinkles yet face
long and oval, patrician in outline and
expression, skin rather olive, eyes
brown deep and luminous, mouth gen.
hair, On the whole it was a notable
face and one Of character.
Dropping the mirror on the bed, she
called, ''Lois'' A French maid, neat.
trim and smiling, appeared with the
breakfast tray.
'Ah, nam selle! A thousand con-
gratulations on your birthday"
"My thirtieth, Lois! But thank you
Just the same.
MAIN 'selle is still young, and al
ready fame has come to you. And
when your novel is published the world
will be at your feet said Lois with a
comprehensive sweep Indicating the
world.
''Oh, yes, the novel," murmured her
iS+r c+i+ ND 70 in
her coffee and rolls, while the maid
laid a bundle Of letters and manu-
scripts on the bed.
Miss Treadwell opened the one bulky
package and looked at the accompany
ing letter. 1t was from a great pub
fishing house, formally expressing re-
gret that they were unable to accept
her novel.
She guiped down something in her
throat. Her novel declined! Her first
really original work. to which she had
given the leisure hours of six years!
Truly, this was most delightful birth
day gift.
"Lois,' she said-and her voice trem-
bled-"Lois, my novel has been de-
clined."
"Ah, ma'm'selle, 1 am too sorry
with quick sympathy-''but some other
publisher will accept it, !
Her mistress shook her head II
shall not send it out again. I shall
stick to hack work l can at least
make living at that" Then she add
ed refiectively, ''my life has been a
failure
Lois protested. She worshiped he,
mistress. Ma'm'selle has been sue
'cessful. You have pretty apartment
and everything you want"
"Other women, too, have pretty
apartments and everything they
want
"Ah, yes, but they did not work for
them," said Lois with a worldly shrug
as she went in response to the electric
bell, which at this moment buzZed
loudly in the hall.
She reappeared with a huge white
box. ''Flowers, ma'm'selle, and a
note,' she said gayly.
Miss Treadwell cut the ribbon that
held the box and disclosed a mass of
violets. They seemed to look up at
her tenderly yet shrinkingly as she
bent over them. With a sigh Of pleas
ure she took the note and studied the
bold handwriting Of the superscriD-
ton. Her heart jumped. Surely it
was Jacks! Dear old Jack had re-
membered her.
She slit across the end of the en-
velope while her fingers trembled and
eagerly unfolded the paper.
Dear Lillian" she read, Nmay I
hope that this remembrance Of your
birthday will prove that 1 have not
forgotten you? 1 have been in town
two days. l secured your address
from C.'s Magazine and send these
flowers to warn you that l am coming
to invade your sanctum sanctorum and
talk over old times. Always your
friend, Jack Ainsworth."
She started up, scattering letters and
manuscripts on the floor. Lois she
said decidedly, II want you to lay out
my new morning gown, the sea green
one with the train.''
Sitting down at her dressing table,
she began careful toilet. Her
thoughts were busy with the past.
Jack had been her girlhood friend in
the little inland town where they were
both born and bred. Again she was
twenty-four and be was twenty-six.
Why had he never spoken?.. She knew
he loved her, and, perhaps, she had
loved him, too, then. But when her
mothers death left her alone in the
world, she was seized with the desire
to come to New York to try her for
tune Jack had advised against it,
but strange perversity made her deaf
to his warnings.
At first they had kept up CORE
spondence Soon even that link was bro
ken as she was drawn more and more
into the absorbing whirl of newspaper
and magazine work. For five years no
letters had passed between them. To
be sure she had heard Of him Indirect
~, how he gradually forged ahead
from oIarl in tho rai1road nffioa to