The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1903-09-16
with a nervous headache.
SUSAN FARNDEIGH.
The Cottage on de Gins.

My Dear Val-Arent you rather tlreu
of your unVarying pleasures? TOujours
Perdrix gets to be rather sickening, and
little change and variety is wonder
full tonic to brace uD ones jaded appre-
citation of pleasures which become mo-
notonous by constant repetition.
hear you are growing pale, and your
roses are fading, so 1 thought of you
yesterday while watching a clear
skinned mountain girl trudging by with
pail of milk, and the idea occurred to
me that If you would run I'D here to
these solitudes for few weeks-or
months, my dear-the piquant con-
trast of this life with your ceaseless
turmoil and rush would amuse YOU.
An artist Of some value comes here
every summer to sketch and paint. and
You must give him a few sittings, so
that when you leave the hermit of these
Wilds and go back to your. youthful and
legitimate frivolities your image will
remain behind on the walls of his Ii
brary, to keep him company during the
long winter evenings.
What inducements can 1 offer you?
The open patches on the slopes of the
mountains are white with daisies, Glen
BRINE falls tumble and roar a half
comfortable. and Mrs. Harris, my
housekeeper. will look after you with
delight VIII you come. Val?
Yours faithfully,
ALLEN DUNCAN.
OF course I will, and with joy IN
speaka BILE, Cousin Allen, if only to es-
cape persecution, stale and Improbable
gossip, mammals reproachful glances
and a fat man and his glasses You
may expect your troublesome ward any
dav.
: 1 can't possibly say when. because
our engagement list is crowded. and
then mater will never, never let me off
from attending at least one-half of the
fearful functions. which have become
the scene Of an exciting game of hide
hxr
a pursued. The fat man, who possesses
a rev railroads. some towns and viii
ages. and half the Pacific coast
mamma says. and the writer of this
read it, oOie 70
If it were not for the kindly helm of
nice boy, Dick Fenton, who warns
me of my enemy's approach and helms
me elude him. and usually lands him at
table with mamma and a champagne
bottle, would have fallen into his
clutches, and the poor victim Valerie
Farnlelgh, would have died a hideous
death, in white satin and Venice point
TO the sound of Mendelssohn's march,
VINO Is your artist? know only one
He is-well. he is a very remarkable
man. and I will tell you about him
slipping coffee.
He, too, loves the mountains be-
lieve better than anything except his
art, He has just left town. He wants
TO finish some wonderful picture
he Will have a great reputation some
day. my artist. He has real genius.
OF course l will sit to have my por-
trait painted if you want me on your
library walls. although if you will only
invite me I will take up my permanent
abode in your castle and gladly forget
the world, its pomps and vanities. the
lat owner of railroads and an auto, and
my artist friend who is such a. dear.
jolly fellow. only much too talented
When did you say you would expect
me? Wednesday? Why not tomorrow
night?
With delightful anticipations of free
dom, cows and daisies and long. conf
dental chats. VALERIE.