The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1906-06-22
THE
IDEAL LADY
By Kathleen Whitenbury Gilbert
(Copyright, by Joseph b. Bowles.)

tearing them open, and before even
looking to see if the car contained an
empty place, flying impatiently to the
next. There were, of course, the usual
number of persons to whom it was a
necessity that this particular tain
should not be missed, and who pre-
ferred to stand to being left lamenting
on the platform.
Among these the catching of this
train meant much to tall, slender,
brown-eyed girl, who jumped with
agility upon the platform almost as the
train started Entering the car, she
opened a book and stood with an ex-
preston of determination to stand or
die.
| She had not closed the door behind
| her before she had recognized in seat
near her youth who had often given
| up his seat for her before. She Lad
not read word Of her book before he
had risen, with cheerful smile, and
| pointed to his vacant place.
In course of time the other passen-
ers alighted one by one, and these two
| found themselves almost alone.
1t was a glorious autumn evening,
about six o'clock She sat in her cor
ner, her head bent over her book, the
vivid colors of the setting sun turning
her brown hair into red gold. He sat
in the corner opposite, his eyes riveteI
on her. She had taken off her gloves
and her slim white fingers clasped her
book; she sat so that her face was
three-quarters towards him, her head
| bent, and her simple cotton gown fall
ing gracefully about her.
Unaware of his intent scrutiny, she
started in surprise when, suddenly
moving to the seat opposite her, he
spoke
81 beg your pardon-but would you
think it very queer of me if l asked
you to let me draw you? Just now, as
you sit there?"
She raised her eyes and looked at
him. She had considered him a mere
everyday young man, but now she
could see a sensitive, dreamy express
sion in his eyes and around his mouth,
that stamped him an artist. She vas
so surprised that she could say nothing
and he went on:
II really wouldn't be bother to you,
you see-and you don't know what 1t
would mean to me-"
He had already whipped out note
book and pencil, and his long fingers
twitched as though anxious to begin.
She looked at him with chilly
smile. tits very odd thing to ask"
she began icily.
You know need not have said any
thing at all about it. But did not like
to do that-it would have seemed like
stealing"
There was something so astonishing
in this shy boy becoming bold that The
girl laughed in spite of herself
Very WE'LL" she said, and dropping
her eyes on her book, apparently gave
it her whole attention as before.
But the book might have been up
side down for all she could make of
it. The words danced about in front
of her, and the sentences jumbled
themselves together. 1t was with the
greatest exertion of will power that
she kept her eyes lowered at all. She
longed to see what those clever look
ing fingers would make of her.
At last her station was reached.
"Oh-don't-" came in a voice of
such heart breaking appeal, as she pre-
pared to depart.
This is my station; am going"
she said, as the train began to slack
an speed.
ooh, no. Not just yet" he cried,
with a ring of despair in his voice.
Endeavoring to feel angry, the girl
looked up at him once more. She
would never have thought his face
capable of such expression and power.
While she looked she hesitated the
train had stopped. She still sat on.
They say that he-or she-who hes
itates is lost; the whistle shrieked,
the train gave jerk and began to
glide away. She gave sigh, burn
ing flush spread over her face and she
Sduh DdCh lulO COIuSl.
He drew on almost savagely, cover
ing page after page of the notebook
with the rough ideas.
1t was not until the next station
was reached and he opened the door
and stepped out to assist her, that he
spoke:
81 shall never forget what you have
done for me to-day" he said. 81 only
hope you will forgive me-"
When next they met, some long
months after, they stood side by side
before a picture-the picture 1t was
at a soiree given at a private view of
a certain art exhibition, and the
young artist, from where he stood
hungrily watching the different effects
his work had on the more or less
casual spectators, had suddenly
turned his head to the door and seen
her come in. She had walked straight
to his end of the gallery. and stood
motionless before the picture.
He came to her side. and with some
thing like an apology for speaking on
IT. foco hooon.