Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-09-14
Loss and Damage.


Ford troubled himself as little any
anchorite of the desert about the eternal
feminine.
1t was not that he was more or less
than a man. or in any sense that anoma-
lous and impossible thing called a woman
hater. On the contrary. his attitude to-
ward women in the mass was distinctly
and at times boyishly sentimental But
when a young man is honestly in love
with his calling. and is fully convinced
if its importance to himself and to
restlessly progressive world. single heart
edness becomes his watchword. and what
sentiment there is in him will be apt to
lie comfortably dormant
For six full working days Ford had
been immersed 10 the eyes in the intri-
cacieS of his railway problem acquiring
in Chicago a valiSeful of documentary
data that demanded to be classified and
thoroughly digested before he reached
New York and the battle field actual
This was why he was able to ride all day
in studouS abstraction in his section of
the Chicago-New York Pullman, without
so much glance for The young woman
in the modest gray travelling coat directly
across the aisle.
She was well worth the glance. as he
admitted willingly enough afterward She
was the dainty type. with fluffy bright
lets. nose tilted to the precise angle OF
bewitching piquancy. and the adorable
mouth and chin familiarized to two con-
tinents by the artistic pen of the apostle
of the American girl. How he could have
ridden within arms reach of her through
all the daylight hours of a long summer
day remained one of Fords unan-
swered enigmas; but 1t required an acct
dent and a most embarrassing contre-
temps to make him aware of her exist
enCe.
The accident was one of the absurd
sort. The call for dinner in the dining
car had been given. and Ford was just
behind the young woman in the rear of
the procession which filed forward out of
the Pullman. The train had at that mo-
ment left way station. and the right
hand vestibule door was still open and
swinging disjointedly across the narrow
passage. Ford reached an arm past the
young woman to fold the two-leaved door
out of her way. AS he did it the door
knob hooked itself mischievously in the
loop of her belt chatelaine. 'snatched it
loose and flung it out into the backward
rushing night.
Whereupon: ooh! my PURSE, with a
little gasp Of sudden bereavement and a
quick turning to face the would-be helper.
Ford was honestly aghaSt when the
situation fully enveloped him.
Heavens and earth. Did you ever see
such idiotic cumsiness!' he calculated.
And then, in deepest contritiOn: Il won't
l..
But you must let me make your loss
good.
In all the pin-prcking embarra sSment
of the moment he did not fail to remark
that she quickly recovered the serenity
which belongs to the we'll bred. She was
even smiling, rather ruefully, when she
said:
Fortunately the conductor has my
passes. But really'-and now she
laughed outright-'I am afraid l shall
have to go hungry if 1 can't borrow
enough to pay for my dinner.
Another man. man less purposefully
lost In the purely practical labyrinth of
professional work. would have found
something fitting to say. But Ford. hav-
ing discovered a thing to do. did it pains
takingly and in solemn silence. There
was an unoccupied table for two in the
dining car; he seated her. gave her his
purse. called waiter and would have
betaken himself forthwith to another
able If she had not detained him.
No" she said. decisively, with
charming little uptilt of the adorab BILE
chin. Il do not forget that you were try
ing to do me a kindness. Please sit down
here and take your purse I'm sure l
don't want it,.
He obeyed. still in somber silence. gave
his dinner order after she had given hers
and was wondering If he might venture
to bury himself in a bundle of the data
papers when she spoke again.
Are you provoked with yourself or
with me?" she asked-rather mockingly,
he thought.
Neither he said. promptly. Il was
merely saying TO myself that my wretched
awkwardness didn't give me an excuse
for boring you"
1T was an accident-nothing more or
less. she rejoined. with air of dis
missing finally the purse-snatching cpl
sode. Then she added: Il am the one
who ought to be embarra ssed.
But you are not he returned. quickly.
You are quite the mistress of yourself
which is more than most women would
be. under the circumstances.
lis that a compliment" she asked,
with latent mockery in the violet eyes.
Because If it is. think you must be out
of the west; the-the unfettered west.
Isn't that what 1t is called?'
II am, Ford acknowledged. But why
do you say that? Was I rude? l beg
you to believe that | didn't mean to be-
''Oh. no: not rude-merely sincere. We
are not sincere any more. L think; except
on the frontier edges Of us. Are we?'
Ford took exceptions to the charge for
the sheer pleasure OF hearing her talk.
I'D be sorry to believe that he pro-
tested. The conventions account for
something. of course, and l suppose the
polite lie which deceives no one has to
have standing room. But every now and
then one is surprised into telling the
truth. don't you think?"
IF l can't fully agree with you, 1 can
at least admire your point of view" she
human"
He laughed.
Shall we assume that the one implies
the other? That would be in accordance
with your point of view, wouldn't it?
Yes. but it would be distinct reversal
Of yours. Truth belongs to another and
simpler time than ours. We are conven-
tional first and everything else after
ward
Are we?' he Queried Some few
hundreds or thousands of us may be; but
for the remainder of our eighty-odd mill
lions the conventions are things to be put
on and off like Sunday garments. And
even the chosen few of Us brush them
aside upon occasion: ignore them utterly,
as we two are ignoring them at this mo-
ment.''
She proved his assertion by continuing
to talk to him, and the dining car was
emptying itself when they realized that
there is an end even to most leiSurely
dinner Ford paid the steward as they
left the car. but in the Pullman he went
back to first principles and insisted upon
some kind of a definite accounting for
the lost purse.
threw away for you and I'll pay my
debt he said, when she had Hospitality
made room for him in the opposing seat
of her section.
Indeed you will do nothing of the
kind" she asserted. you will give me
your card-we're going back to the con-
ventions now-and when we reach the
city YOU may lend me enough money to
take me up town. And tomorrow morn
ing my brother will pay you back"
He gave in because he had to.