The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1905-01-04
The Journals
Daily Short Story.


Informed Of their whereabouts. But,
/ though Edith Audley seemed to have
drifted beyond bis ken, that rare, ca
ressing voice still sounded in his ears,
and in dreams he saw again that
straight. slim. unsubstantial figure, the
face mere pale phantom from which
two shSdowy eyes looked out.
1t was Just before the Christmas hol-
idays, and Lansing had decided that
nothing should keep him longer. that
In spite of fate he would sail for En-
rope within the next ten days, when
the tinkle of the telephone bell aroused
him. He lifted the receiver to his ear,
and at the sound that greeted him he
felt as If a fame of happiness ran oven
him.
rs this 332 CortlandtY
The voice was unmistakable. Though
the wires impaired generously of their
own metallicness. it was still the most
beautiful voice in the world. Unlike
Trilby's right foot, which had rival
in her left, Mrs. Audley's voice had no
rival Lansing was as certain that It
was she who was speaking as he was
that it was himself who was listening.
This is 1892" he began.
Before he could get further there
was q despairing exclamation from the
other end of the wire. while the only
voice in the world pleaded, won't you
please ring Off"
Lansing laughed delightedly, but that
laugh cost him his chance.
"How are you, Mrs. AudleyT he BE-
gan, but q buzz, buzz, buzz-z-Z-z,
bnzz-z-z-z was all that he got for his
pains. Nor did his frantic ringing nor
the things he said to central avail him.
Don't know, sir Can't find out"
was all that the distant, impassive
voice of the operator vouchsafed, and
with a sigh of evaporation he at last
hung up the receiver.
She was back in the city then. Some
where. in the wilderness Of brick and
stone that Incompatible voice was
making music, but not foE him. Sud-
denly Mrs. Stanton's warning remark
tc.33 upon MS ears as If it had been
spoken by some invisible presence.
Penelope has many suitors."
The thought goaded him. While he
tarried. allowing mere life and death
matters to detain him, what might not
have happened? The truth came to him
now with a terrible, crushing force.
The one thing in life greater than all
other things was love. And, strange
and unnatural as it might seem, he
loved with all his heart a woman
whom he had practically never seen,
since that brief, dim half hour in the
Stanton drawing room seemed more
like an encounter Of souls than an ac-
tual meeting, where the sweet, strong
woman of her had been revealed TO
him in that strange, vibrant, caressing
voice.
Inquiry at the Stanton residence did
not put him forward. They were still
in Europe, and the housekeeper did not
know when they would return. Nor
could she tell him anything of Mrs.
Audley.
Baffled. but determined, he left no
stone unturned for the next three
weeks, but without success. Edith
Audley seemed TO have disappeared in
the crowd of the unknown, and he
wondered II that fool Stanton would
ever bring his wife back from Europe.
Then, in the most casual manner, the
information that he had sought in vain
came 20 him. Waiting modify for a
Nrsa 10 yFoh 80 No yoI
dorf late one afternoon, the strident
repetition of a name at last recalled
him to his whereabouts.
"Symington! Mr.. Symingtonw sang
out call boy in a nasal tone, looking
inquiringly about as he sauntered
through the room.
None Of the men scattered about the
room responded, and the boy tried
another tack
card for Mrs. Audley! Card for
Mrs. Audleyr' he reiterated, with an
expression that implied that the fell
low who had sent his card to that lady
must be trying to conceal himself.
Then suddenly a gentleman near the
door beckoned to him energetically.
"Mr. Symington?'' demanded the
boy. At the gentleman's negative re-
ply he looked away very weary. But
when the latter, pressing a quarter in
to his hand, asked a certain question
he replied with mitigated severity.
Lansings first impression of her
when at last she came toward him in
broad daylight was that she was like
a reed. The eyes were dark and a
trifie wistful, the mouth wide, flexible,
with thin, vivid lips. And then that
moving voice fell upon his ears for
the third time, and he only knew that
she was all that he had ever dreamed
of in woman-and more.
Talk to me! Talk to mer' he would
beg playfully during the weeks that
followed, when he was trying with all
the arts he could master to lead her
to the point that he had reached at a
bound.
"Fm growing jealous OF my own
voice" she said to him at last, with a
hurt, questioning look in her eyes. Il
sometimes think that it isn't my
e. - r., -