The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1910-02-10
THE EVENING STORY
The Purple Plume of Long Ago
by Edith Gray.1

tAlOIOQSil1dI0 OIL d large CITY would I'M
mediately class him as a successful
business man and, with no less hesita-
tlon, as a happy one. His clear, smooth
shaVen skin reflected perfect physical
health, and his broad shouldered, yet
slender frame, as he moved with 1.-the
confidence among the bustling throng,
limited nothing of 20 years of ceaseless
business drudgery- Surely, he deserv-
60 the enVlous glances of the two Of
nee boys, splendid in the uniform of
the firm, Jordan & Stokes,'' who turn
ed with a glance of recognition as he
unconsciously, brushed against them.
Yet the dark eyes beneath the straight
satisfied.
Edwin Jordan was not happy. He
tod himself that. as he, furtively, COM
pared himself with his hurrying COM
panions. Perhaps much of the happi-
ness that he saw in the faces about him
was superficial. Granted, but still
tnere was great deal of the genuine
nesides. For instance in the face of
that well gowned woman in the slow
pacing victoria, who was listening SO
lntently to the gay chatter of the slen-
der mite of a little girl at her side,
lhere was happiness. Such happiness,
Jordan had not found
For he had never married. 81 have
no time for romance" he used to say
10 MS friends, when they numerically
cha1ed him for a crusty old bachelor.
He had spoken truly; the years of his
youth had been spent in climbing, step
by step, the ladder of fortune. At last,
when he had reached the top, and had
leisure to contemplate the utter worth
iessness of his hard earned wealth, he
discovered, with bitter regret, that ro-
nance had now no time for him.
JORDAN turn with relief from the
gay afternoon promenaders of the fash
lonable thoroughfare into a quieter by
street. He modulated his pace here, and
| altogether stopped, now and then, to
gaze, though only half interestedly, into
the little shops along the way. He
paused before a certain window. ar
ranged with wealth of old china,
br1c-a-brac and antique jewelry. His
eyes grew soft as he looked. He found
himself thinking of his mother, and, as
| he paused at the next window, with a
| strange start of Lucy
Lucy? He had lost track of Lucy
long ago. Why should he think of her
now? Jordan was calculating, specu-
| lative even. For the moment he was
almost awakened from his everyday
self by the strange almost forgotten
memories that crowded over him. He
| wondered as his head searched out the
| reason for the strange, unwarranted
| beating of his heart. Then, in a flash
| he found the clew.
The sign of the building next the
| little antique shop read mime. Brion.
French cleaner" Madame's goods,
| cleaned and ready for returning Gus
| lOHleTS, were arranged neatly III the
| window. Among the array of linens,
silk waists, children's bonnets and en-
| broideries was a long fluffy feather, a
\ purple plume. extraordinarily rich in
shade and texture. Long ago Lucy
| had had a haiti was all so clear now
"a large, plain hat turned up on one
side and gloriously wreathed with the
| one long feather.
| He recalled as he walked back to
| his lodgings in the gathering dusk,
ctr
| fragrance of .he violets that she used
| to wear in her belt.
After his discovery of the plume
Jordan often wandered down the little
sheltered street. and his friends at the
club noticed, with surprise, that he
sometimes wore a tiny boutonniere of
violets in the lapel of his coat. More
| over, his eyes became calmer, more
discussions of the frivolous doings of
the other world with, "But that's not
| business" Young Everett, one of his
friends, caught him off guard one
evening as he stood by the heavy
green curtains of the reading room
looking out over the grimy rooftops
and beyond the dingy little park to
where in the west, across the river. a
| golden CLEAN in the sky limited of sun
set. He clapped him on the shoulder
stolid and full of poise, jumped as If
shot. Everett laughed and said, Some
woman, I'll be bound" But Jordan
only smiled. Il haven't spoken to. a
woman, excert in a business way, for
twenty years" he said,
One day: was a bitter day in late
autumn-the plume disappeared.
Somehow, with its going Jordan began
fool he had Keen, anyway. Lucy was
Since. At any rate, what business had
a gray haired bachelor to be thinking,
on the vaguest provocation, the slight
est excuse, of an old sweetheart? His
dreams had come to light, just as some
foolish little violets do in the autumn,
gay and happy for a minute, and then
dead as the brown leaves beside them
| in the blight of the unfailing frost.
| Well, he would go back to business;
it was all that he was good for now.
He felt tired and detected, an old man,
as he turned from Nine. Brion's win
dow.
Then he stopped as woman STEP
| ped from the shop into the glare of
the electric light. He gave a start.
What strange effects the blending of
late afternoon and artificial light can
give! The dreams were getting on his
nerves. The poise of the head-how
like her! How like the Lucy of old
was the slender, gray-gowned little
| figure! He would go nearer. But no,
she would be startled. 1t would new
| er do to brighten a lady even for the
sake of a vague resemblance to one
| once dear. Meanwhile the lady paus-
ed a moment to gather her furs more
| closely about her, gave a little shake
| to her skirts and was gone.
| Jordan cursed himself for fool
| Then he sprang forward. She had
| dropped a parcel. He would return
| it to her. He reached her side in a
| second. Madame" the lady raised
| her head as the we'll bred voice ad-
dressed her. your parcel"
| you are so kind she said. Then
| in the joy of recovering her treasure,
| she lost all sense of decorum as she
| confided to the tall stranger. ''It is a
| plume. I prize it SO. 1t is like one
| that I had when l was a girl
| It was Lucy, so dear, so sweet, with
only a sprinkling of gray in the soft