The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1909-08-03
THE EVENING STORY
Mysterious Miss Aston.
.By William b. White.

a mystery-every one, from the
round-faced bellboy to the rheuma-
tic old millionaire who smiIingly
nodded from his seat in the sunlight
whenever she passed by.
The girl wore plain clothes, but
they were so dainty, so well worn and
so tastefully chosen that no one
| guessed that she possessed a single
| evening gown. She was retiring, al
most shy, and seemed to be herself
only when with children. The pres
ence of strangers seemed to render
her most unhappy.
She had rented a large front room
and had sought tiny table in the
dining room, away from the others.
She had registered at Marguerite As
tor in firm hand, and many of the
guests had looked more than once
upon the signature as if therein might
! lie the key to the mystery.
The feminine guests who were wont
| to sit on the veranda rocking their
chairs from the first of juno until
the middle of September, discussing
social events and comparing hus-
bands and incomes, now had a rev
theme. Who might Miss Astor be?
What was her past? Why did she so
pointedly avoid the Monday night
| card party and shun their sacred
circle?
ANY one can see,' said Miss Her
| relia Morton, a person of doubtful
age, whose family consisted of two
brindle bulldogs, that she has plenty
of money and-that she's very young
to be travelling alone.''
But Miss Astor continued to keep
to herself, in spite of her intuitiVe
knowledge that she was doing her
self no good in the eyes of the porch
brigade by doing so. She slept late
the first morning; climbed a nearby
mountain at sunrise the second, and
on the third day she set out in search
of blueberries.
1t was on the fourth morning of her
stay that Harry Davis. a young and
wealthy lumberman. was strolling
through lonely lane not far from the
hotel. All at once he heard shriIl cry.
and at the Same moment he noticed
riderless horse leap over the fence.
Rushing quickly to the spot whence
the sound had come, he beheld a some
what frightened, dust-begrimed young
woman She had been picking berries
when the runaway horse dashed through
the bushes and frightened her.
She gave vent to a little cry at the
sight of Davis, and rs he offered her his
strong arm to assist her, she looked
into his eyes She murmured her thanks
and wondered at the fluttering of her
usually weu-behaved heart.
Much has Davis disliked the average
wealthy girl and the summer resort
type of young womanhood. he became
greatly interested in Miss Aston
Though he had intended to spend only
a day or two in the country, he found
himself postponing his return indefinite
~ There seemed to be so much to talk
about; there were so many places round
about the hotel that Miss Astor never
had seen. and, altogether, he found the
time passing far too quickly.
The tongues on the veranda began to
Wag Vociferously. Fond mothers who
yearly spent small fortunes at sum-
mer resorts trying to find eligible part
ncrs for their daughters longingly wish
ed that these same daughters had golden
hair and appealing blue eyes. While
their daughters sat in detected twos and
threes wishing Vainly that they might
travel alone, Miss AstOr and Harry
Davis wandered here and there in utter
oblivion to it all
On the very day on which Davis had
decided in his oN-- heart that he loved
Marguerite Astor and could not be
happy without her, he received a tele-
gram urging his immediate return to
the office. Business that could not be
transacted by his suoordinates called
him home.
He sought the girl and told her what
had happened asking her at the same
time to go for a last walk with him.
In her simple white frOck and with her
shining golden hair coiled softly about |
her head, she waited for him under the /
great tree in front of the hotel She was |
with tiny silk rosebuds. Even in their |
envy of her, the members of the rock |
ingchair fleet could not help the admira- |
ton that forced itself into their glances |
as they beheld her. She was indeed |
pretty.
Davis and Marguerite strolled along !
the country road listening to the birds |
and to the steady click-click of a NOW |
a q
time they walked in silence, neither |
enc finding words to fit into the eX-
Cuisite tranquility of the scene.
At length they came to a running |
brook and halted by it's side They
stood on the bank gazing into the mir
7 or-like water. AS Davis studied the
reflection of the girl in the brook he
fancied her saw her brush away a tear.
He turned suddenly toward her to |
make sure. He sought her eyes and |
saw within them unshed tears With
a fervent cry, he stepped toward her.
Marguerite shrank back, nervously, |
looking inco his outstretched arms. I
II have deceived you. I am nothing
but an impostor! 1 am not at all what
you think I am. I" but she could
say no more She burst into sobs and
covered her face with her hands.
Davis. abashed. drew back for mo-
rnent. Only the girls sobbing and the
of the wind to the leaves all
q bout them broke the silence.
Tell me-" said the man, very softly,
at last.
You see." said the girl, her face
turned from him. Il am not Marguerite
Astor at all-rm only Mabel Arndt-
and work-for a living. 1 haven't al
ways had to work, but-but those days
were long ago. so long that no one re-
members them, no one whom I know
now" she said YEARLY.
The man waited for her to go on.
Each year, instead of taking the va
cation that was due me, L have saved
ny money until I could accumulate
anough to spend a short time in the