The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1910-06-27
THE EVENING STORY
In Difference to Mrs. Grundy.
(Rv TepnnIa RailavA

In Difference to Mrs. Grundy.
(By Temple Bailey)
On one side of the hall Doris
Wright practiced scales in the won
derful voice that was, some day, to
astonish the multitude
On the other side of the hall Philip
| Wentworth painted pictures and
dreamed dreams of fame.
Now and then at twilight the artist
would lay down his brush and listen
to the singer. 1t was at this time
that she allowed herself to rest from
the monotony of her work. and sang.
They did not know each other. Oc-
| casionally he caught glimpses of the
! slender figure in black, and once she
| had said GOOD morning as she
passed him on the steps. She had
raised a barrier of reserve. however,
against any closer acquaintance, and
he had been forced to content himself
| with the sound of her voice when she
sang.
AS the summer came on he worked
little. He was not a painter of sum-
mer scenes; he chose rather the gray
days of the fall and of winter. and
was at his best with mist and rain
effects and the dreary every day life
of the streets.
Perhaps it was because his subjects
| were so somber that he needed the
| joy and freshness of her young voice.
At any rate he learned to depend
upon it and to miss 1t when she went
away. So much did he miss her dur
| ing her two months vacation that his
| greeting was involuntary as he met
her on the stairs.
"I am so glad to see you back
She hesitated and stopped. There
was a little flush on her cheeks. 1T
seems good to be here she said.
1T missed your song" he told her;
| cit was as If a bird had flown away"
After that. they established good
comradeship which limited itself to
| the greeting on the stairway, an ex-
change of the daily papers, or a short
walk together to and from the car.
Further than that she would not let
| him go. She never asked him to her
room nor accepted an invitaion.
| He learned, however, that she was
| a little country maid, whose wonder
| full voice had attracted the attention
of those who knew, and she had come
to the city to win for herself fame
and fortune. AS yet she was unspoil-
| ed. but he. knowing the world. feared
/ for her future.
Gradually he assumed a protective
| attitude toward her. Without her
her lessons kept her late at night, he
managed to be near her as she went
| through the lonely streets. At last
he knew that he loved her, that she
was the one thing that made bright
his lonely life.
He did not tell her. for he felt that
there could be as yet no answering
response, but he dedicated himself to
a watchfulness which should shield
her from harm. Gradually she began
to turn to him for advice; she seemed
to feel, instinctively. security in his
| friendship.
one night she raped tinidly at his
door. When he opened 1t he saw
vision in soft shining white. II am
invited" Doris explained. "to the
1 opera and afterward to supper. I want
/ to ask you," she hesitated, whether
| IL is considered proper in the city for
girl to go to late supper unchap-
He smiled. "I am not a book on
| etiouette,'' he told her, land in Bo-
hemian circles almost anything
passes-but for you-I wish you
would ask some older woman friend to
CO."
'But I haven't any woman friend"
she said. IT should have to stay at
| home"
IT have so little fun" Her eyes
were wistful. IT am young, you
| know"
vide a chaperon, if you say So"
| "Who?" she demanded.
$50 back to your ROOM he said.
"and wait. In a few minutes I'll bring
the lady
In every studio there are properties
of all kinds. 1t happened that few
| month before he had painted pic
ture of a Venetian grand dame. the
| gown in which he had costumed his
model was one that he had picked up
abroad. of dull green velvet with a
broad lace collar. He was of slender
build, and when he had tried it on it
| fitted him perfectly. There was
gray wig in an old trunk ana the
| ly lady was complete. If the roses
| in his cheeks came out of his paint
| box, what then? He was not the only
old lady who did not depend upon ma
When Doris saw him she gave him
little startled cry. why. where did
Mr. wentworth find you?" she de-
| manded.
the key to the situation. and she
| broke into ripples of laughter.
How did you manage it so well?"
| she questioned.
81. used to play girls parts In the
| Paint and Powder club at home,
| he stated. Then he spoke in a whin-
| ing falsetto. Does that sound like an
| old lady?'
Again she went off into gales of
| laughter. but ended with serious
question. shall really be better
chaperoned by two men than by
| one?"
His answer was given in his own
voice, deep with, emotion. "I shall
watch over you as carefully as your
own father or your mother" and his
smile was reassuring.
Doris telephoned to her escort that
there would be two instead of one,
and received a somewhat gruf re-
ply Evidently the idea of the chap
eron was not pleasing.
All that evening Wentworth
watched over her. He did not like
the f1ashily dressed man who was with
| her and he did not like the restau-
rant where they went for supper. 1t
was ultra-Bohemian, and Doris was
| like a violet in a bed of tulips. He
spoke little. and the man who was
L tot iraer at q