The Topeka state journal., 1908-03-05
THE EVENING STORY
The Heart of Miss Cynthia
(By Clarissa Mackie. }

L
and came to meet him. /;
You are Mr.. Forrest. I am sure"
she said with a smile of dazzling
sweetness; II am Hyacinth Lowell.
Miss Elmore's niece
Then you are little Amy Elmore's
daughter" he said, grasping her hand
cordially and following her to the
cool shade of the elms where several
comfortable chairs were arranged.
How did you know John Forrest ?"
he added, as they seated themselves.
Aunt Cynthia Is expecting YOU"
replied the girl aninateday; "and of
course I knew you from your por-
trait
1T is very good Of you to give me
absently; and then. with more inter-
est: 'Is Miss Cynthia at homer
Yes; she will be out presently. She
is dressing, I believe returned the
girl carelessly, swaying idly to and
fro in the hammock. her trim little
foot touching the grass at every back |
ward swing.
Forrest looked about him with keen |
interest. There was a contraction of
the muscles Of his throat as he felt
himself precipitated so suddenly into
the past.
There was the long, low. red house |
with its mantle of wistarias, and Its |
box-bordered graveled paths spread |
ing away from the front door. There |
were the flower garden. exhaling all
the sweet, pungent odors of the past, |
and the honeysuckle arbor where he
and Cynthia had sat on long summer
afternoons, while the bees droned in
and out of the f1owered trumpets and
brilliant humming birds hovered
aloud to Cynthia. and Cynthia sewed
or knitted. But the smell of the box
was the most persistent reminder of
the past. It was the incense In his
temple Of memories.
Fifteen years had passed since he
had swung out of the gate and set his
face down the road toward duty. He
had left a weeping Cynthia behind,
one who wore his betrothal ring on
her slim finger. He had gone to a
foreign capital, wither his appoint
ment to a consular office had called
| him, and Cynthia could not go with
| him.
There were duties at home. an in
valid father, motherless younger SIS
ters-one, Amy, unhappily married
and with sickly little enild-perhaps
| the young girl before him.
| There had always been something
| to prevent their marriage. some sac
rifice that Cynthia had to make for
her family, and so Forrest had never
come home.
| their immediate marriage, and the
years had slipped by, until at last one
| day, two months before, he had OBJ
| tanned leave of absence and hastened
| across the Pacific and thence across
the continent. until at last he stood
within the old New England garden
waiting only for the moment when
| Cynthia should come down the path
| to meet him. dressed in white, with a
rose in her dark hair.
| "You haven't seen Aunt Cynthia for
years, have you. Mr.. Forrest?"
1,v-, II icr,1xr an h G
| meditations.
mitted. looking at her with startled
"You will find her greatly changed.
! I suppose" she said, calmly Sne Is
| quite old now!"
CYNTHIA oldi Forrest looked dazedly
about him. He had not thought of
that To him Cynthia was always
straight and young, with soft, dusky
hair and melting dark eyes. She in
variably wore a white dress with
red rose tucked in her belt.
"She is nearly forty, and very
grav." resumed Hyacinth Lowell. with
youthful cruelty in her rasping young
| voice.
the first time that she was very young
/ and very pretty. She had masses of
bronze colored hair. deep blue eyes
| and a pink and white complexion.
| Her teeth were perfect and her smile
was lovely. yet there was something
lacking in her face; something that
might have made it beautiful. and for
| want of it she was merely pretty.
| Forrest decided that 1t was woman
liness.
| "You are like your mother, Amy
we used to call her. he remarked.
"They say I am like mother used
to be-" she returned f1ippantly, eyeing
him with approval from under her
thick 1ashes. Forrest was sood 70
Hook upon, tall, and well set up, with
a fine face lighted by good gray eyes.
His skin was Drowned by tropical
suns and his light hair was only faint
ly sprinkled with gray:
"You look so much younger than
Aunt Cynthia" she said biuntly
| Forrest frowned. He thought 1t
bad taste in the girl to speak of the
matter of her aunt's looks.
Miss Cynthia is delayed" he re-
marked coldly.
"Ts your mother in?" he asked po-
"oh, no; not particularly, but she
has headaches, and Aunt Cynthia
@Cannot YOU do that?" he asked,
with disapproval in the gray eyes.
mot l." she laughed merrfly
'"There is no magic in my finger tips!
/ I would give mother the Nuggets
"And you and your mother live
here with Cynthia?''
Eyes; and father. too"
"Your father still paintsf" For
rests voice was dangerously soft now,
but the girl, fattered by his atten-
ton, attributed it's tone to her power
OF attraction.
"Oh, yes-paints and paints all day
iong-and he has never sold pic
ture!"
| Forrest looked back through the
vista of years and imagined the bur
DEN Cynthia had borne-the support
| of three idle people out of her slen-
der income-and he frowned darkly.
| Again the girls voice sounded crisply