The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1909-10-26
The EVENING STORY
One way Of Telling.
lBx Louise Olnev.l

What in the world ails you. Mol
ly? Your hair was quite perfect! This
must be the seventh time you have
pulled it down and fused till it was
arranged againi You can't make your
hair look anything but lovely. Who
Is the lucky man tonight? You are
her friend and roommate little cross
" as she dressed for the theater. Her
answer seemed irrelevant.
II wish were forty, and hopelessly
I'm tired of all this-uncertainty
How are You going to tell anyway"
Molly Starret, you know you'd die
II you were not sure every minute of
| happen to be! AS for having things
mapped out, should say you are
mapping out fine assortment of trou-
BILE for yourself-as well as for others.
Men like William Main. and Gene
Trently, and Peter Foster aren't likely
to be exactly lamb1ike once the wires
get crossed. as they surely will some
| fine evening""
We'll. I repeat. how are you going
to tell which one you want, when all
| of them are so perfect, and each so
different from the others that there is
absolutely no basis for comparison?
I'm not engaged to any one of them.
so why deprive myself of the company
of Numbers Two and Three till dis
cover Number One? want them all,
that's the trouble
But Grace was not to be deferred.
"Well, you may not be engaged, but
from the worshipful solemnity in those
three pairs of eyes, take 1t that those
| men consider themselves engaged
How you keep each one thinking the
others are not even On the field I don't
Its Gene. 1t gives me thrill to
go to public places with him. He is
| SO big and splendidly blonde, such
contrast to dark little me, that every
Icr1a a1c vvQx In O wi n
the eye. I am actually afraid I shall
purr sometimes out of sheer satisfac-
ton. We have seats tonight in his
sisters box. Mrs. Huntley is worth
| interesting that. while she is angelic
to me. she doesn't want to let me have
her precious brother and a share of the
family high-and- mightiness, on which
they are long, if money is not exactly
l1mitleSS with them.
you mercenary wretch! How about
William Main? He certainly has
money enough. and all the rest could
be added on to him.
William is maSterful. That's his
best point. He gets his way and then
makes you like it better than your
| own. And blue eyes and black hair
are-attractive. THEME makes love
very nicely indeed-rather DULLES you
and takes possession. I like it. 1t
flatters me to think have kept such
a cocksure gentleman in the waiting
room as long as I have. 1 wish I knew
which wanted-for keeps
Grace sat bolt upright in her big
chair and threw down her book. 1t
was hard for her to hear this man
spoken of in this way, to see this
pretty child toy with the rose of his
worn at her heart, which she thought
of like prayer-and showed no
sign, for women are brave race.
you are slangy and unregenerate
and ungrateful little piece. Molly!
And I wish to remark that heart
hunger follows heart-waste. You are
throwing away what others cry for.
But, just as a matter Of curiosity, tell
me where Peter comes in ?'' Molly
frowned. ~
peter! Mrs. Peter John Foster!
That awful name! Do you see it on
Little Molly's cards? Peterv Her
voice softened queerly. There
doesn't seem to be anything to say
ways has been since l was weenty |
girl in kindergarten. He is noted for
his 'mejumness,' and his devotion. He |
is always on the spot"
The girl cooked her head. and with |
a hand-glass got consoling view of |
her perfect back in the trailing lace
cloak she wore. Then she put her ex-
travagant white theater hat upon her
luxuriant black hair. She was one
of the few girls whose hair was
dwelt on Peter a moment
"Yes, he is fairly good-looking, able.
sufficiently well off. Nothing too
much as the saying goes, except that
he is sort of taken-for-granted. He
has never given me the chance to
miss him. What want to know is
which one do really love?"
Grace was silent. She was glad and
a little relieved that Molly's voice was
tender and reverent, that, for all her
Itort+ tU
consideration in her marriage with
any one.
as there any way Of telling? In
stories they all come near being killed
it breaks her heart to lose, but this
is real life, Oracle" Grace soberiy
thought that it was, indeed. Then
the bell rang. Molly opened the door
and listened. The servant opened the
masculine voice she turned to Grace.
"Grace-it is William Main! You {
go down and tell him am out tonight,
or going out, since you won't tell hbs! |
oh, all right, tell the whole truth, but
entertain him awhile, there's a DEAR"
Grace went down to the library.
Since she had come to live in Molly's
home as the ward of Molly's father she
did many things at the girls behest.
She went down to William Main and
that was the first evening he had seen
her at her unselfish best, when she had {
been her real self. He did not miss {
Molly, nor know when she went out
with Gene Trently. And she was for i
ever unaware that her choice had, in 1
the course of things really mar
rowed to two. William was out of (
the running from that evening on. II
Eugene Trently was at his best. The
play was the usual metropolitan splen-
dor of staging. The acting was perfect.
The play was story of love denied that /
stirred the heart to tenderness, to a Il
desire to give love and take it, to be sin
cere and kind, to hurt one. Mrs. Hunt
ley very properly confined her attention
sweet, dark face of the girl beside him.
The whimsical eyes were soft with tears,
the little willful mouth tender beyond be- .
lief Could this new gentleness be per-