The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1909-11-08
THE EVENING STORY
Mrs. Hicks's Homecoming.

. Homecoming.
(By Virginia Blair.)
Little Mrs. Hicks sat in the sun par
LOT or the sanitarium and Wondered |
over a letter from her husband.
~ Delleve he is lonely" she said to
| never lonely she said, touching her
eiaoorately pulled hair with her pink
tipped fingers. 'oThey have their clubs
and their restaurants and other
a Emu OF which we women know
lutte ana care less"
we haven't many good restaurants
In our town." Mrs. Hicks yentured
and the resplendant Mrs. Seymour
smiled indulgently
on, well, your husband will spend
his time at the club. and then write
how lonely he is. But 1 shouldn't
worry. 1 never worry about Mr.. Sey-
mour"
| Mrs. Hicks didn't like to say that
| in her town there were no clubs. and
that Mr.. Hicks's diversions were sim
| pie. These things smacked of the
provincial, and the way Mrs. Seymour
had smiled at things provincial had.
aspiring soul.
For the first time since coming to
| the sanitarium she found Mrs. Sey-
mour's society superfuous, and fed
from it to the privacy of her own
room, where she again pondered over
| her husbands letter.
| Il miss you awfully." the little man
had written. But, of course, you
mustn't come home. I want you to
be well and like my old Mollie when
you come back. I was thinking about
/ it the other night-of how I used to
| come in on winter nights from my
work and you would have an Irish
stew waiting for me and coffee and
apple pie. I smelled stew like that
the other night when Simpson drove
| the machine down a side street-there
was such a good odor of onions, and
/ wished 1 was going home to such
stew instead of to the things that AL
| phonse would provide. And 1 wished
that you might be there-smiling as
| you used to smile, and busy and hap
py. The money I have made doesn't
seem worth while sometimes, Mollie,
when I think of how you have to go
from place to place, and be away from
me-but I'm not complaining-stay
until you are better. I guess am
bit blue tonight. I've had a beastly
cold and the maids don't know how
to do things for me-but I'm boring
tyou. Love to you, grille, from your
! Billy
/ Mollie's conscience troubled her a
little as she read it. Deep down in
her nerves were not the real cause
| of her globe trotting She was tired
of her home town because the people
there knew her as Mollie Reagan.
soul, had carried bricks and mortar
all the days of his life. When Mol
lie married Billy Hicks she had made
a distinct social advance, although
Billy was only grubbing away in a
| real estate office, getting small COM
! of their married life had been the
days Of boiled dinners and Irish stews,
| of tripe and onions and of liver and
bacon, all economically and delicious
| Jxy NV
Then had come the boom, and Billy
| Hicks had stepped at once into aff1u-
| ence.
Billy built a house and bought an
| automobile Mollie had many maids
and clothes that outshone the best in
her town. But she was still Pat Rea-
gan's daughter to the aristocrats of
the neighborhood, and gradually she
had sought social prominence else
where. Making her nerves the ex-
cuse, she visited hotels and sanitar-
iums, made friends by virtue of her
charming personality, and impressed
them with a sense of her Importance.
4 But the letter brought dreams
4 dreams of those honeymoon days in
the little house-of Billy's homecom-
ing
4 She brought herself back to the
present with a petulant shake of her
directions to her maid, and went down
to dinner.
/ Once in the crowd, she again forgot
, Billy. 1t was so pleasant to be fiat
tered and smiled upon by the notable
Mrs. Seymour and the fashionable
friends who had followed her. Mollie
/ sparkled and beamed, until poor Bill
ly's image faded from her mind.
!, She felt that, at last, she had
reached the goal of her aspirations. If
only Mrs. Seymour would invite her
! to her spring house party, her social
future would be assured. Even the
exclusive people of her home town
would be compelled to open their
/ doors to a protege Of the i1lustrious
lady.
But alas for the dreams of Mollie!
for late that evening as she trailed
her silken skirts up the stairway she
the landing above her. She was hid
den from them by half screen of
palms, and she stopped short at the
sound of her name.
/ "Oh, little Mollie?" she heard Mrs.
Seymour say. "She's a dear little
thing and very amusing. But OF
course after I leave here I shan't care
to know her."
Back down the stairway fed Mol
lie, hurt, ashamed, angry with all the
anger in her Irish blood.
. She took the elevator up to her
room, and went in like a whir1wind.
Pack my trunks, Elsie,' she or
dered as her maid came forward. 1--WE
: will go home in the morning"
{ She was going back to Billy-Billy
who loved her-Billy who thought her
; beautiful-Billy who would never de-
sert her-poor, lonely Billy.
All the way home she thought OF
him, and when she reached the house
she sent Elise and the other servants
{ off for a holiday.
Then she dug down into the bottom
, of her trunk and found simple blue
, linen gown, braided her hair, wound
it into simple coronet, rolled up her
: sleeves and went down to cook the
dinner
II The great kitchen was not made for
{ humble things-but there was a little
/ pot of granite ware that held the NUT
; ton and the onion and carrots and
notatoes that were to go to the max