Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1909-01-14
The Argus Daily Short Story
CONVERTING GWENDOLYN---BY MARTHA C. SANFORD
Copyrighted, Literary Press

At twenty Gwendolyn Rand was I'M
deniably personality to be reckoned
with.
Il don't see where you get such
ways, Gwesdolyn," complained her
mother. why, at your age y
Eyes, indeed" corroborated Mr.
Rand, "at your age, Gwendolyn, your
mother had settled down-she wasn't
running around after all the young
men in the neighborhood."
"Oh, daddy" demonstrated Gwen
dolyn. Il think you might be little
more gallant
well, well, the young men weren't
all running after her, then" amended
Mr.. Rand, scftcning at the hurt look
in Gwendolyn's big brown eyes. But
it doesn't look well either way. 1
can't understand where
Mother was brought up in con-
vent, you remember. I'm the product
of coeducation," ventured GwendoIyn
In explanation.
HIN" reflected Mr.. Rand. "That
may be the reason, but the remedy is
your Aunt Abiatha."
Gwendolyn' gave little gasp of ap-
prehension.
Eyes, my dear" continued Mr. Rand,
your mother and l have decided to
send you down to Florida to spend
the winter with your Aunt Abiatha."
''She will teach you the things a
girl of your age ought to know, daugh-
ter" added Gwendolyn's mother dole
fully, things which l have somehow
failed to make you take an interest
in"
"In other words, I'm to be sent to a
convent" exclaimed Gwendolyn as
she swished out of the room. her head
| high in air, but her eyes glistening
| with unshed tears.
Aunt Abiatha's spacious, old fashion
ed house merited kinder verdict than
| Gwendolyn bestowed upon it at first
glance. Once up in her coy bedroom,
| however, with it's chintz covered four
| poster and French windows opening
out on to q little rose covered porch,
| the girls heart melted In spite of her.
self. and she threw both arms around
Aunt Abiatha, completely submissive
| for the time being
But after the novelty of busting,
sewing and cooking began to resolve
| itself into routine Gwendolyn suddenly
baked.
| "Now l know how to do all these
prosaic things, Aunt Abiatha," she ar
| gued, whats the use Of doing them
day after day? There are so many
real live things to do in the world.
Let's give a garden party or some
thing, Aunt Abiatha. Are there any
male inhabitants in Centerville that we
could hire to come, do you Think"
"Gwendolyn, my dear. how you talk
OF course there are" Aunt Abiatha
was startled into admitting. There's
young Jack Hayward for one"
whats he like?"
every thoughtful and polite" replied
Aunt Abiatha Loyalty. HE comes OF
one Of our best families"
"Poor thingr' muttered Gwendolyn.
"What did you say, dear?"
II asked what he does for livingY
prevaricated Gwendolyn unblushingly
"Why, he manages his fathers es
tate, of course. He's country gen
tleman."
"Oh," commented Gwendolyn indif
ferently, ''he must be very provin
cial kind of person! / don't think
should like him.
| WELL of all things, Gwendolynr
bristled Aunt Abiatha. ''Of cours,
you'd like him. Every one does. II
ask him to call"
An afternoon or two later as Gwen
dolyn was reclining in the hammock
on her little porch engrossed in a nov
ell she became suddenly conscious tina
\ the front doorbell had been ringing fol