The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1907-10-23
II EVENING STORY
In the Attic.
(By Temple Bailey.)

lavender and of dried rose leaves hung
from the rafters and mingled their
delicate perfume with the coarser
aroma OF age and sweet marJoram
and thyme and summer savory.
On autumn afternoons the attic was
golden with sunshine, n from the
little peaked window one could see
the long white road and the blue hills
beyond.
1t was to this fragrant and gold
lighted attic that Miss Cynthia would
come When the summer rush was
over, and in it's a and quiet try
ried and withered.
At thirty-fve one should not be
worried and withered. But hard lives
do not make for youth and freshness,
and Miss Cynthia had always drudged.
Work had been the watchword on the
farm, and when prosperity had come
in later years the habit of keeping
summer boarders had become fixed
and even after the death OF her par
ents Miss Cynthia had continued it,.
But with September came rest and
freedom, and it was then that Miss
Cynthia sought the attic and wrote IN
her diary .
The diary was a safe outlet for her
woes. There were pages blotted with
the tears had shed when she had
closed the volume of her hrst ro-
nance, and two leaves. on whlcn she
had penned a poetic swan song OF al
lection, were pinned together with a
black pin!
Miss Cynthia a old-fashioned
ideas about love. She had loved once,
and hence there could be no other at
fair. 1t mattered nothing that the
man in the case was married and had
grown fat and puffy and uninterest-
ing. 1t was not the man, but the idea,
and to that Idea Miss Cynthia was
true!
To be sure, no second sutton had
entered her life. so that there had
been no severe tax upon her con-
stancy. But the roses had gone out
of her cheeks when she was twenty,
and she had twisted her hair In an
uncompromising knot and had. at hat
early date, given herself up to mourn
ing and to memories.
you're silly" Martha Ann told her
one bright September morning, as
Miss Cynthia, with her black diary IN
her hand prepared to ascend to the
attic. why don't you go out and Wis
it and have a good time, instead OF
writing in that dark old placer"
Martha Ann was an old and prlvl-
legged servant, but Miss Cynthia would
brook no interference with her acts OF
affliction.
IT don't think good times are my
portion, Martha Ann" she said, ano
went up the stairway thoughtfully.
Halfway up she paused to say:
MAKE a good vegetable soup Tor
lunch, Martha Ann. I'll throw down
q Duncn OF my IlcfUS' SOoP va"
good on a cool day."
Love" wrote Miss Cynthia In her
little book, lis of mans life a thing
apart; tits woman's whole existence!'
When she had rounded off the last
prim letter, she bit the end of her PEN
peaked i'd
Far down the road she could see a
cloud of dust. Coming nearer. the
cloud showed itself the forerunner of
an automobile.
The big machine swerved out of the
road and into Miss Cynthia's own drive.
1t stopped at her door. and she had to
lean far out of the peaked window to
see Martha in her Bingham apron
speaking to the occupant.
Miss Cynthia could not hear a word,
and she almost fell over the sill In the
effort to satisfy her curiosity. She saw
felt a pull at the back of her dress.
Goodness Martha Ann said cross
ly, 1T called and called, and I couldn't
make you hear. That man wants some
"What?" Miss Cynthia gasped. But
he doesn't look like a tramp, Martha
Ann
"Tramps don't ride in automobiles
riding all the morning. and he just
couldn't find a place to eat, and he
would be glad to pay for a meal. He
understood that we took boarders, he
said"
well, you go down and hurry the
soup and make an omelette and some
hot biscuits and I will talk to him,
Martha Ann"
You'd better stop in your room and
primp a little" Martha Ann advised;
hes awfully good looking"
THE idea" said Miss Cynthia, with
dignity.
She was a little sorry, however, when
she reached the sitting room that she
had not taken the girls advice. For
the man that she greeted was big and
blond and prosperous looking. 1t de-
veloped that he slurred his m
but as he leaned back in the biggest
rocking chair and talked in his hearty
voice, Miss Cynthia decided that he
was very attractive.
1T expect you think it's queer my
droppin' in on you this way?" he said.
1 couldn't pass the peoples and the
pennies in the yard. My mother used to
have an old-fashioned garden, and
there was something about yours that
me of it, and I felt as If
you'd give me a home-cooked meal. A
man gets tired of hotels"
Over the steaming, savory he
explained still more.
with all the vegetables in it, and
bet you've got a lot of
herbs tied up in your attic-my moth
er had. She aid the attic was the
pleasantest place in the house, and /
used to think so. too"
Miss Cynthia felt at last she had
met an understanding soul.
would you like to go up after
?" she asked eagerly, there is a
fine view from the little dormer win
dow"
my how nice it smells" said the
big man as he seated himself in Miss
favorite corner. The black
lay open by his side. His eyes
caught the line,
s.Iove is of a mans life a hing apart:
'Tis whole existence"
"Oh. tommy-rot," he said, did you