The San Francisco call., 1908-07-05

SherrySs OF which Ediths intimate
friend Marion Jennings was the hos
tess At the last moment Marion sue
o,,nobed 10 one Of her black head
aches which rendered her helpless and
n only for the solitude OF her own
bedchamber.
Tho luncheon had to be postponed.
Then II showed, and Bdith glumly de-
feruined to spend the rest OF the day
indoors.
But staying indoors isn't the most
sarfsfac ctorv way 70 pass an afternoon,
-esnectallv when one lives in an apart
7nent hotel and ones mother has de-
narted for the day bent on some en-
fertafnraent OF her own Edith and the
butler and the maid had II quite 10
themselves.
So far YOU couldn't possibly have
sensed the fact that the maid IS really
the most important person in this
story. But she is. II she hadn't been so
niserably proper, so smugly trained
so uncornfortably emphatic In the DO
ing OF her duty as she saw II, ana when
she saw it-but We are digressing.
Enough that there was maid. For her
sins. let her be nameless.
picture. II YOU viii. Edith Mitchell,
with very blonde hair, somewhat baby
l,lue ewes. q nice WillOwy p year old
figure and q mind writing under the
torture Of enforced idleness.
IT happened that there was nothing
sDecial which she cared to read, il be-
ing that distressing period Of the month
when there are no magazines that one
has not already perused. She was not IN
fbr mood for books. Her new pale blue
broadcIoth gown shuddered at the
thought Of braving the snowstorn 10
pay calls.
And then Il was that the bad habit,
70 which she had been more or less ad-
dicted all her life, took possession OF
her
She would write some letters.
But 70 whom
Now YOU have Il. II you can grasp
Fdith's mood in all Of its elusive, subtle
Qualities YOU viii understand perfectly
when she founced down before her
dainty writing table and got out her
incest rnonogrammed paper and new
pen and some blotters and stamps and
q chamOis penwiper, that there was
actually nobody on earth that she cared
about writing 10.
True enough, she owed plenty OF let
ters But they We're all TO aunts and
cousins and uninteresting people like
that. and she could think Of nothing TO
say 70 them.
She leaned back in her chair de-
spairingly.
She didn't want 10 embroider, she
simply would not practice her music,
French lessons got on her nerves.
Then her eyes fell upon a bunch Of
violets IN a small crystal bowl. and
she suddenly smiled. Herbert Jennings,
AIarion's bachelor brother. he Of the
iron gray hair and incOngruOuss boyish
face, had sent them 10 her
Herbert's attentions were always fat
tering Possibly because in a measure
they Were rare. He lived a rather alb
sorbed life, writing clever things that
only remarkably clever people could
read And he was Old. He must at
least have been 80 or 40. DO not smile.
gentle reader. Hark back to you at
20 What opinion had. you then Of iron
gray hair and literary absorption?
The longer Edith looked at the viOlets
the more fascinating became she. AL
ready had she thanked the donor for
them over the telephone Already had
she communicated the fact Of the gift
10 several Of her nearest and dearest
cronies. via the same convenient in
strument Any further reference to
them would have been superEuous.
While the violets were the source Of
her fascination and. It might be added,
Inspiration. Il was certainly not with
any idea OF reiterating her thanks that
she hesitatingly drew toward her a
sheet of paper
There was a ouizzical smile on her
wrote g greeting at the top of the
sheet and then held her head birdwise
and emitted a tw1ttering laugh. There
was something aWfully funny about
the whole proceeding.
But presently she forgot the humor
Of Il and became herself a victim OF
literary absorption She wrote rapid
y. almost feverishly-
The red mounted into her cheeks. Her
eyes became shining, her lips warm and
moist.
Then, when she had finished the
letter. she sealed. addressed and
stamped It
Now suppose"-she rnurmured TO
herself, now for fun let's suppose
and then she set to work again.
The second letter was longer than
the first But this time she had the
true inspiration. Not once did she
hesitate. It went flying through to the
end. And this was sealed and addressed
and stamped. third letter went
through the same process.
BY this time Edith had become
slightly wearied of her task. Not so
much a WEAKNESS Of the spirit as Of
the flesh. Her fingers ached, and she
drummed them idly upon the edge Of
the desk, uncertain just what TO do
next. The three letters were ranged
in a row before her. She took them
into her hands and shufied them, shut
her eyes and selected one.
Now I shall pretend that am he
and this is the first OF the letters
he viii get I will read II and try
TO analyze my feelings just as he" =
And into this scene Of soulful
psychology entered the nameless maid.
She broke It up most effectively.
Miss Edith, Mrs. Jennings wishes
70 speak to you on the telephone" she
said.
The telephone was in the hall. only
a few steps from where Edith had
been sitting, but so interested had she
been in her literary occupation that
she paid no attention to the ring.
She responded with alacrity, how
ever.
Marion is slightly better" said Mrs.
Jennings. ''She is lonesome and wants
10 know II you can't come over for
an hour or so. VIII you, dear?"
Certainly" said Edith. I'D be only
too glad to-if you think her head will
stand it." She broke of, conscious Of a
peculiar sound in the room she had
Just vacated.
S-s-swish.