The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1907-04-03
In Search Of
Simplicity.
BY Constance D'Arcy Mackay.
Copyright, 1907, by NJ. NJ. Cunningham.

II was Il clear October day. Fifth
avenue WAS radiant with sunshine.
Mrs. ST Auhyn, standing at the French
window of her pretty little breakfast
room, noted the blueness of the Sky
and the bright color of some autumn
leaves that drifted by on puff of
wind.
Below in the street II girl walked
brislily. her cheeks glowing from the
keen touch of the air. A newsboy
whistled blithely us he loitered ON the
corner. An old woman passed, Il bas-
ket on her arm. 1t was filled with ap-
pies. rosy and fresh looking as IL they
had just been shaken from the trees
or gathered from the frost starred
grass of an orchard. An orchard
Mrs. st. Auhyn smiled. How long was
il since she had roamcd in one? Tween
ty years at least, for Mrs. st. Aubyn
was thirty seven.
Twenty years of dinners and teas
and dances, of summers passed Mt
Newport and winters spent In idle
hlAiilISo iIpii al IL W isphtipu stit't
from London home again. Luxury had
smeothed Mrs. ST. Auhyn's path, and
time had touched her lightly. Her fig
ure WAS rs slender and supple as Il
girls, and there were those of her ac
quaintanee caustic enough TO say that
during the period of her mourning she
had prolonged the wearing of widows
weeds because black set off her amber
colored hair and dazzling complexion
Il clear rose and white that still defied
the aid of cosmetics.
An orchardn repeated Mrs. st. Au-
byn, looking after the old apple wom
an who had hobbied TO the crossing
Il Wore my hair IN braid then, re.
member and big frilled sunbonnet.
How fresh and wonderful the world
seemed In these days, It's SO long ago
that I've almost forgotten what rus
ticity is like. And yet
She paused y sudden longing for
the country took possession of her-for
the real country, where no smart. high
seated traps met the incoming train,
where roads wound between fields, not
lawn, and where the air was full of
autumn scents and sounds, the smell
of earth and Withered grass, the rus
tie of dry leaves underfoot, She turn
ed abruptly from the window and with
sWiftness that denoted decision
crossed the room and rang the bell.
Prompt MS Il trapdoor fairy Antoi
nettc appeared.
81 am not going shopping after ALL"
said Mrs. ST. Aubyn. And you may
telephone to the dressmaker that |
can't keep my appointment for this
afternoon
Antoinctte opened her brown eyes
wide in astonishmcnt She would have
opened them still wider an hour later
had she seen Mrs. st. Aubyn seated in
n ear whose general dingi : pro-
claimed It's acquaintance with obscure
places off the general line of travel.
Instead of well groomed commuters
and their wives there were men whose
clothes were bit rusty and women
whose bulky satchels and bags bore
witness that they had been TO spend
week with daughter in the city. Wide
eyed children clung tenaciously to dolls
and bananas crying babies were vehe.
mently urged to look out the window
at grandpa and when the train began
TO move goodbys were said with an
abandon which half amused half
stirred Mrs. st Aubyn. In her world
repression was the law of life. 1t was
long since she had been In touch with
the simple, homely things of existence.
ITO think that this actually occurs In
New York." she murmured to herself
and then laughed little gultlly, for
under her monogrammcd morocco bag
there reposed Il neat brown paper par
eel containing chicken sandwiches and
n bottle of olives that she had paused
ness of her flight. Bought at the sta
ton, With what Mortified shruggings
would Antonette have protested had
she known, and with what CALCULATIONS
would she have complained against the
crowded STIFFNESS of the train,
"Fairview" called the conductor.
Mrs. St Aubyn looked at her time
LiDIe. our SlhllOHS more!
II was noon when she stepped out at
Meadowbank The narrow platform
was deserted save for young tele-
graph operator. who looked apprecia-
lively at Mrs. st. Aubyn's tailor made
costume Of gray and violet and In
quired if she would like team. She
shook her head. She would rather
walk. How well she knew the road!
And how little it had changed! She
followed it by Il cluster of trim fenced
houses past the general store and on
to where the fields widened and
stretched away to hills whose submits
were Il misty blue. Blackberry vines,
rusty with fall, tangled at the roadside,
and here and there asters glowed like
"a purple flame. At the far edge Of the
Village outskirts she came to ram
bling white house. Grass grew knee
deep in its yard. Its windows were
shattered. Its door bore a placard,
"For Sale" Over its porch the bare
tendrlls of a honeysuckle vine stirred
with every passing wind. BY path
still family discernble through net
work Of weeds Mrs. st. Aubyn took her
way to the orchard There she came
upon a sight which held her stock still
with amaZement.
Jimmy cried Mrs. st. Aubyn.
"What In the world are you doing
herei"
Jimmy Vanringcourt forsook the ap-
pie for which he had been reaching
and colored To the roots of his iron
gray hair Then he came forward.
"My dear Helenew he exclaimed.
"Who ever would have thought Of see
ing your
Il came by the noon train" said Mrs.
ST. Aubyn.
"Ah, And / by the one before 1t.
Hasn't changed much, has itf' he con-
tinued, nodding toward the old house.
Except that the grass Is ragged. 1t
looks just the same as that summer
you spent here with your aunt. Have
you ever been back here slnceT
Never" said Mrs ST. Aubyn, flush
ing
"Nor l. Strange, isn't it, that we
thould mpet9 What uromptp1 Won to