Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1904-09-24

photograph frames. Will you-wont you
come with me and help me select?
Distinctly fattered the banker said he
would, and right in the middle of the next
block he took occasion to renew his pro-
posal of marriage.
You know. Miss Kirkland how much l
think of YOU" he said with SLOW deliberate,
impressive utterance. Il mentioned that In
our conversation of. 1 believe, Monday, the
18th. You said at that time that you were
still in doubt as to how much you were
prepared to think of me, but that you
would reflect and give me an answer soon.
Yes" interrupted the up-to-date Port1a,
briskly. but Overwhelmingly, land l am gong
to do it. I buying the picture frame
now-you know" she confided In explana-
ton, II am studying the role of Portia Tor
Club. Suppose you come up this evening
and help me rehearse" AS she spoke they
had reached Brownsons. DO come. she
added. but. after all I don't want you
to help me choose the picture frame. l
don't think it would be quite fair to the
Others" Then in response to the look OF
dazed inquiry, "Never mind what mean
now. Come at $50.
The selection of the picture frames was
no easy matter How could one choose on,
hand between the oval of gilt leaves ana
the square one made to initiate ribDon'
with the bow knots at top and bottom,
And the oXidiZed frames? And the wooden
ones? Portia had selected wood In lieu or
the classic lead casket, for she was not
blind classcist and she had made up her
mind to place the portrait in the silver, De-
cause she knew that all three suitors were
familiar with the play and would probably
choose the wooden one off hand But the
selection was finally made, and when she
reached home she called up John Blair and
Dick Thistlewaite by telephone and asked
them to call-Bair at and ThlstleWalte at
8. She felt that half an hour would be am
pie for each man to make his choice, pro-
vided, of course (oh new and unsupported
terror!D, they didn't all choose the same
one. What would Portia have done, she
wondered. in such dire catastrophe?
Eight o'clock found Miss Kirkland clad
in her prettiest evening frock. bright
light burning in the front parlor, where,
one by one she would explain the situation
to her three Suitors. A dim Japanese lamp
shed it's tinted rays through the gloom of
the back parlor, where, face downward, lay
the three picture frames, instruments of
Fate.
Eight o'clock meant John Blair! And
what would John Blair mean? Just the
strong brave, rather matter-of-fact friend
he had always meant, or something new,
strange and sweet that the queer, bird
like futtering of Cynthia's heart por-
tended?
The five minutes that elapsed between
the faint Ginning of the French clock on
the mantelpiece and the louder alarm of
the front door bell were the longest of all
her life Her face flushed and her small
automatic movements, as the stalwart fig
ure of John Blair made it's appearance in
the doorway. She wondered If Portia had
felt like this.
"Oh, JOHN she exclaimed impulsively
I'm so glad you've comet And uncon-
sciously the hand she extended to him flut-
tered in his with slight, caressing move
ment.
Blair's face lighted with the unexpected
warmth of her welcome. But 1t turned
serious again as she continued: II want
you to help me rehearse. You know I'm
going to appear Portia before the
Shakespeare Club. I've selected the casket
scene to appear in, the one in which she
has to choose from all her suitors, you
know
Her birdlilse treble was interrupted by the
sudden jingle of the telephone bell in the
back room.
With eyes full of admiral ton Blair
watched her part the heavy hangings that
separated the two rooms, and, crossing to
the telephone, stand on tiptoe, her little
head tilted carefully to one side and the re-
ceiver against her ear. And this was what
he heard:
Hello. Dick"