The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1903-11-19
IN SITE OF PREJUDICE.


unshakable conviction as she lay amid
the subdued richness of the Oriental
pillows. No. L might love a convict
or 1 might love a Hottentot; but
.widower. navsrH'
Her cousin, Mary Singleton. prac-
tical young woman, more given 10
5ests than sentiment. eyed her Curl
ously, but did not speak.
"Just fancy" Constance continued
with scornfui derision, being a man
second choice, listening to a rehash of
his first lovemakingl Gracious!'
her tone implied that the thing was
well nigh unimaginable. but her cousin
only laughed a bit skeptically and
took the other side of the question.
10 you mean to say that peca4 Use
erson has loved once-he or she. Tor
that matter-cannot love again with
out feeling that it is a rehash of the
old lover" she asked with yawn.
My dear girl. you're all wrong! The
second love is simply a different mat
ter
THE average human being" she
continued shrewdly. lis capable or
leve in these one-love individuals-the
sort who mourn forever. you know:
That sort of thing is simply emotional
poverty"
Having delivered herself of this
worldly observation, she glanced at the
clock and began to coil up her loosened
ha1- in a way that signified that it
was time that she went to her room
to dress for dinner.
@'Soulless creature tainted Con-
stance with an indulgent but gently
superior air. Defend widowers if you
choose-but none of them for me!'
You girls with the sentiments" Mary
retorted teasingly, her hand on the
door-knob, ARE just the ones to look out
for, ana she passed out smiling into
the hall. A moment later she opened
the door again and thrusting her head
into the room said in an enigmatical
manner;
by the way. Con. be sure to tell
Douglas Stane that when he asks you'll"
Then, before her cousin could reply she
vanished, slamming the door behind her
Constance stood in the middle of the
room for moment perfectly motion
less, wondering if she could have heard
Alright. Douglas Stane a widoweri For
of course, that was what Mary meant
Douglas Stane a widowerl-and in the
four months in which they had been
growing daily fonder of each other she
had never before heard the fact mem
toned
With a quick movement she glided
toward the door and locked it. Then,
with her hands slasped with painful
tightness. she stood in the middle of the
room and repeated with growing in
credulity, "A widower! Douglas Stane
a widower!'
1T can't be true-it can't bet can't
be-" she protested with a moan. His
likeness rose before her-tall, broad and
a bit stern of face. Then, growing hot
and cold by turns, she sank down upon
the divan once more and buried her
head in the pillows.
Her lover!' that was what her heart
cried out, and though she would not per-
nit herself to say it, there was wild,
sweet bliss in the thought. Subtly she
had known it almost from the first. But
q WidoWer!
She shivered now at the very remem-
brance of things that had once thrilled
her-the unconscious softening of his
keen eyes when they met hers, the elu-
siVe but unmistakable tenderness of his
touch when he helped her over a rough
place or held her wrap. Time was when
the caress of his glance made her blood
tingle. Now she remembered it with
sort of loathing. Had his eyes not soft
ened for some other woman?
Thus she wrestled with love and pain
until the striking of the clock reminded
her that the dinner hour was at nand.
Jumping up, she began to dash cold wa
ter over her flushed face and wet eyes,
while she tried to steady her surging
emotions.
Everything went wrong" she apollo
gized when she appeared at the dinner
table, rather Hurried and breathless.
Couldn't get my hair up right-hooks
wouldn't hook and buttons wouldn' t
button"
Her cousin smiled.
''Methinks the lady doth protest too
much" She thought to herself.
Dick just telephoned,' she announc-
ed, feeling rather small and guilty, as
she noted Constance's flushed face and
feverish eyes. He and Douglas Stane
are coming up after dinner to take us
down to the Spouting Rock"
Constance opened her lips with the
evident intention of declining. But be-
fore she could speak her cousin contin-
ued glibly:
L Just accepted for both of us, be-
cause 1 knew you would like to CO."
Then she continued under her breath.
Poor old Douglas. Wouldn't 1 like to
hear what she says to him. How shall
1 ever make my peace with them, /
wonder?'
When, the dinner over, they sat on
the broad piazza in the twilight, she
half regretted her prank, and decided
to speak. But before her good intention
crystalized into words, Constance spoke
to. her, and at the studied indifference
of the latters voice, and the marked
ennui of her manner. all her love of
mischief returned.
IT never before heard you mention
that Mr.. Stane is widower," she said,
patting her lips with one of her fingers
to discourage yawn.
Didn't you?" queried Mary in
nocently Perhaps l never did men
ton it." Then, at the sound of foot
steps on the gravel, she added rather
hurrtedly: Don't lay it up against the
poor fellow. though
Two dark figures were approaching
from the foot of the lawn. If Con-
stance jumped at the conclusion that
Douglas Stsne was a widower just be-
cause she had said. Tell that to Doug
las Stane when he asks YOU it was her
own fault,
Meantime that young lady's greeting
70 Mr.. Stane was a trihe stiff but no
one but her torrneuting cousin noticed
It. The gentleman himself seemed ut
terly unconscious. He had determined
to learn his fate, and in the grip of thai
mighty resolve all minor things escaped
his notice.
Miss Singleton seemed bent upon aid
ing him, for she and her fiance were
lost to sight around bend of the road
Stane ''hoo-hoo-ed'' after the manner OF
the cottagers in the neighborhood, buf
no answer came back.
Deserted us already" he laughed, hi:
voice a little shaken by the great ques
hat trar,nh Ied On his Inns.