The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1906-06-05
TIE EVENING STORY
An Angel in Disguise.
by Virginia Leila Wentz.J


turned dismally from Broadway into
Fifth avenue. Saturday afternoon and
nothing to do! Thanks to that con-
founded cotton. broker who couldn't be
seen till Monday, he was obliged to re-
main in town over Sunday Well, ne
might as well walk up to his hotel-a
constitutional of thirty-odd blocks
would do him good.
It was the first week in May. and in
local swelldom wooden boardings were
already beginning to go up. and hideouS
green shades were appearing down the
entire length of drawing room windows.
Outside the florists shops, tissue-paper-
co pots II blossoms still remained
savoring of Easter and April; but the
doors stood open revealing a rich vista
OF bloom against the backgrounds OF
palms. Once Kennard noticed some
tashionably froclxed women standing
within, choosing the last of the seasons
violets.
"Bahr' he said, deliberately turning
his head away and looking at the
spires Of st. Patrick's Cathedral instead,
why do women all love those foolish
flowers r
Now once there was a girl. a neighbor
of his, down on an old Mississippi plan
tation, whose eyes in certain lights
matched the velvety heart of Vioiets'
and often enough down by the bawlnG
little brook where the colony Of violets
grew, he had told he so. But always
it had teen her way to shake her head
with tantalizing little smile and say;
That's because you write books ana
are inclined to be poetic!'
Pretty much the same answer she hao
given, too, that night when the mock
ing birds were singing in the moonlight
and he had laid his love
Hello, you'll" cried some one In the
brightest of voices. suddenly coming
abreast of Kennard. well. il this
Trc of = L
O'Clock train today as usual, l ran up
town on an errand for my wife
"Oh, so you have. haven't YOU
drawled Kennard with apparent irrele-
vancy. Lets see, sent you wedding
gift from London, didn't I, old man 2"
"A beauty, tool CALCULATED Dan
Archer. My wife wrote and thanked
you, I'm sure. But you've never seen
very well at present, nervous, lonely,
and that sort of thing, you know; has
tc have companion Look here, why
not come out with me tonight ana
spend Sunday? It'll cheer her up, and
Sundays a beastly day in town, you
know"
Remarks protests that it was too
short notice for Mrs. Archer, ETC.. etc,
were not accepted, and at o'clock,
having spent an hour or so at Archer
club and sent a telegram as precursor,
the two men took rtain from Jersey
City and few speedily over country
roads toward a particular little subur-
ban town. A slight driZzie had set IN,
and the landscape wasn't especially
cheerful.
A suburban town on rainy Sunday
Good heavensi what had he put him
self in for? Behind his paper Ken
nard yawned, recalling gloomily a null
titude of jokes at the expense of Sun
day suburbanites. Besides dear old
Dan was a Benedict now-already he
fancied he saw the change-and they
11a1rph nnnnrflniTV to pal
together.
'Pshaw!" he broke out mentally
dropping his paper and looking out al
the whizzing telegraph poles, another
good man spoiled Why do men want
to marry, anyhow ?'' (Gradually. siacs
that night down on the old Mississippi
plantation, when the hooking birds
were singing in the moonlight, Ken
nard had grown to dlsparage matrl-
monial blessings, and had ceased To
write epithalamium verses.)
He found Mrs. Archer a gay, viva
cious little creature, pretty with the
prettiness of a Dresden shepherdess;
but as Dan had intimated, inclined to
nerves and dependence. They dineo
alone that night, the three of them
Her companion, 1t appeared, was sur
fering from something very unusual
for her. a violent headache. and had
kept to her room
1--WE don't breakfast till nine on Sun
days" announced Dan, as they finished
their last game. 80 you can lie abed
as late as you've a mind to. old man.
For a commuter. it's a relief. can tell
you, from our ordinary seven o'clock
rushed affairsi"
The next morning, however, Ken
nard was up betimes. The rain of the
night before had vanished, save for the
last light simmer of silver on the
grass and under the almond-bushes
adroop with their slender pink
branches. And such a morning-all
scintillating with olive-green and gold
sunshines!
Kennard stole on tip toe from his
close apartment which seemed to breed
all the ver-driven extravagances of
an over-excited world into the freshness
of the May air. The garden, like the
house was obsequiously awaiting a sig
nal to wake. The flowers seemed still
motionless, holding in their perfume
that a breath might not disturb the
sleepers whom the Respondent rising
sun itself could not attract. But beyond
the garden through a hedge Of trees
where the honeyed trickle of song came
from the threats of wild birds. a path
led to wide-awake fields and meadows
Fowls were growing, cackling, COB
bling. Cabling, IN matutinal exuber-
ance; calves were bounding outside the
milking pen, hungriiy bleating at the
sight of the usurpation of their rights
within; in the pastures the sheep were
grazing industriously-
To Kenaard, as he walked along, there
seemed to be a vague, expectant quality
in the morning. AS if-he said to him
self-the very freshnSss and grace of It
all were preparing the way for some
thing splendidly alive and debonair!
His path suddenly merged into little
bv-path largely screened by thickets.
At the end was a di1apidated summer
house. fastened between three trees on
a bank overhanging a gurgling stream.
A girlish figure was leaning over the
rfckety railing. apparently looking at
the pebbly. variegated mosaic Of the
streams bottom. She had thrown off
her hat. and her chin was resting IN
the cup of her two hands. He could
see nothing of her profile because of
the mass of dark hair coiled over the
back Of her head.
1T. IL. L..