Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-04-01
s " Us IS

Copyright, 1905, by Rita Kelley.)

"a package, Miss Dent. Looks Ike
Christmas present, doesn't it?" The land
| lady held out a dilapidated little packet
travel worn, generally smashed ana
damned.
christmas PRESENT. Marian took 1t
wonderingly 'It's weeks since Christmas.
Been going the rounds, l suppose, or got
lost in the nails
That's Just what the postman said, MISS
Dent He wanted to know If you lived
here"
Thank you, Mrs. Marshall 1t is from
my brother, doubtless. He usually sends
me two or three presents" She gathered
up the shapeless bundle and proceeded
leisurely to her room.
Once there, however, she began with
haste to undo the strange package "un-
ravel the mystery as she called it, for
she had decided there was something I'M
usual about it. All the way up the han
whose handwriting that was and had
come to the conclusion that she had never
seen it. The outer cardboard was
thoroughly demolished, with a lot of use
less string and tattered paper hanging
around it
Lucky thing Joe wrapped it carefully
If he sent it, She peeled off another layer
of paper. wonder what it can be-
SOhetUlUS HdIu-d DSit pi
He knew l wanted one. No" She hur-
riedly tore off another wrapper and came
to fiat oblong box perfectly intact.
This is exciting she cried Something
precious to be wrapped with all this care.
She pulled up the cover and found mans
engraved visiting card laying on the white
tissue paper
"Mr. Charles Seymour Carrollt' Scrawl-
ed in pencil across the card was with
best wishes for Merry Christmas to Miss
Marian Dent"
''Mr. Charles Seymour Carroll" repeated
Marian in a daze. who is he?' She
turned the card over and over for some
trace of enlightenment.
81 must be losing my mind" she said
finally" but can't remember ever even
hearing the name"
had dwndled from its soled shapeless
mass to a dainty trifle in white tissue paper
and ribbon that she could hold in the palm
of her hand. She looked at it hesitatingly.
Evidently it is for me- she said Per-
haps it is from one of the boys down at the
academy. Those artists are such romantic
fellows"
She undid the final wrapping and stood
amazed. There lay the picture of a hand
some man gazing up at her from a gray
silver frame. 1t was an exquisite trinket.
The picture had more the appearance of
painting than photograph and, leaning
closer, she saw it was a real miniature.
"Oh," she said. What can this mean?
Who is he anyhow" She examined the
picture carefully under the light The dark
eyes looked straight out at her, the finely
shaped head and symmetrical features
stood out distinctly; it seemed a living per-
Sona1ity about to speak.
There is some mistake she cried, scat
tering the papers in her haste to get at the
outer wrapper. '1t is for some one else
But the worn wrapper showed her name
clearly. Miss Marian Dent" The address
was worn and indistinguishable.
She resumed her contemplation of the
picture. She looked at it a long time ad-
miring the exquisite workmanship, the good
taste of the whole-the way the soft grays
of the background toned into the dull silver
of the frame. But always her chief admira-
ton was for the likeness itself. Marian had
learned enough about art during her two
years at the academy to know the original
had a striking personality, well as
physical beauty. No mere artist could in
corporate all the vitality and power in the
picture without material on which to work.
How wonderfully handsome was the
thought that ran continually in her mind,
coupled with the query: What can it
mean?" All evening she studied the situa-
ton, calling up and rejecting a great num-
Der of theories about the picture.
For the next few days she searched dfrec-
tories and telephone books in vain. for
another Miss Dent. A search for Mr..
Charles Seymour Carroll proved equally
fruitless. After all there were other places
in the world besides New York, though a
further scanning of the outer wrapper
which came around the picture failed to
reveal that Mr.. Charles Seymour Carroll
lived anywhere. Something kept her from
sending the picture back to the post office.
Evidently it had been difficult to find any
Miss Dent, and the thought of the exquisite
bit of workmanship going to waste on the