Free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1888-1908, 1906-08-11
THE
PRINCESS
EVELYN.
BY INA BREEVORT ROBERTS.

Roger sat watching the woman he
had come to Woodbourne to see She
was the center of a group of young
people who were discussing the details of
a euchre party at the other end of the
piazza AS Rogers glance wandered past
them and across low, fertile fields to the
blue hills beyond, there swept over him
a realization of the absurdity Of coming
to the country to play cards.
Roger sighed. He had thought that
perhaps away from the town and its arti-
fetal life he would sometimes be able
to get more than a word or dance with
the woman he loved he had even hoped
they might become comrades, COM
panions.
But she had told other men beside him
that she was coming to Woodbourne,
it seemed; Roger could count at least
half dozen of her admirers in the group
over which she was holding court They
had the card party arranged now, and
were planning a climb up the nearest
mountain next day to watch the sunset.
When one of the men came over to
Roger and invited him to join the party
his refusal was courteous but decided
To watch the sun go down with a chosen
companion was something to be remem-
bered, but to flock to see a sunset as if
it were a parade or a play
From inside the house came the music
of piano and the sound of dancing.
Roger rose and, crossing the lawn, sat
down on a rustic bench out of earshot
of the two-step.
While the afterglow of the sunset
faded into twilight ne fell into a reverie,
from which he was aroused by a slight
movement. Looking up, he saw a little
girl standing near him. A he raised his
eyes she moved trifle farther away,
and man and child regarded each other
gravely.
There was something about her that
pleased Roger. In her faded Bingham
dress, with her yellow hair in hard little
braids, she was a decided contrast to the
pert youngsters with curled locks and
fluted skirts who pranced about the lawn,
shrieking shrilly.
Presently with hesitating movement,
the child separated single flower from
the bunch Of daisies she was carving
and held it toward Roger, who found
himself feeling honored by this overture
to friendship.
He took the flower and put it in his
coat. Thank you," he said; won't you
sit DOWN."
The child considered a moment before
she took seat beside him. Roger de-
bated in his mind as to whether he dare
put his arm around her, finally deciding
not to venture on SO great liberty.
will you tell me your name?" he
asked
ITS Winifred What's yours?"
"Roger-Roger King. That's not a
pretty name, is it?"
The child thought a moment. "King
is" she said at last
WHOSE little girl are your" was Rog-
er's next question.
Mammals and papa's. / live here al
ways, in the winter, too
A silence followed, during which the
dusk deepened. Presently Roger felt the
touch of small fingers in his and reused
himself from his abstraction.
What do you do with yourself I'll
know how this odd, old-fashioned little
girl spent her time.
Il play" Winifred answered, "and help
mamma bake, and sometimes l ride to
the depot with papa. After the boarders
is all gone he's going to take me for lots
of walks, down to the river and up to
the top of that hill" She pointed to the
towering black mountain behind them.
I'm going down to the river to-mor-
row morning" said Roger. Would you
like to go, too?"
viii you let me throw stones in the
water7'
I'VE will see who can throw them
farthest?"
And well sit down under the trees ?"
"Of course"
And stay as long as we like ?"
AS long as you like"
"Oh, won't we have a good time !"
cried Winifred, softly. Wont it be aw-
full nice?"
During the ensuing week the house
was in whirl of gayety; dances, card
parties and golf and tennis tournaments
succeeded each other in quick succession,
and Miss Hartly continued to hold court
IN series of bewildering gowns. Roger
did not join the train of her admirers,
hut he was not altogether lonely, for he
had found comrade.
After each meal two figures would
leave the house together; sometimes 10
climb 4 mountain, sometimes they walked
TO the river bank, where they rested
while Roger told stories to Winifred, and
the child and the beauty of nature
soothed the dull, never-ceasing ache that
tugged away at his heart
Gradually his awe of the child less
ened, though it never quite left him. She
was quiet little thing, perfectly healthy,
but with none of the reStlessneSs COM