The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1910-02-14
THE EVENING STORY
A Valentine Heart.
(By Joanna Single.)


had brought Maude a bracelet and
theater tickets-his wife liked such at
tentions. Helen, her sister of eighteen,
was blushing and blissful over Jack
Harlan's extravaganza in violets; even
Baby May had come from the kinder
garten with her fat hands full of lace
paper hearts. And it was the maids
afternoon off. SO Maude asked Nancy If
she would mind washing the dinner
things. And would she be lonely If
they all went out and left her with
May, already asleep?
Nancy did not mind the dishes or be-
ing alone-she saw too many people
downtown to want them at night. She
thought Of her unfinished book and a
quiet place by the sitting room fire.
However, as she buttoned Maude's
theater waist up the back, and later
helped Helen pin her mass of violets TO
her White party dress, and saw them all
of, she felt alone-the odd one. She
had caught glimpse of her rather
worn face in the glass over Maude's
shoulder, and missing it's fine strength,
saw only the record of twenty-nine
years in it. What had been ailing her
lately?
With her characteristic refusal TO
procrastinate, she sat down in the dusk
to think it out She was not going to
permit herself to grow into a state Of
discomfort or unhappiness. Certainly
every one was KIND TO her at nome
| and in the office.
Suddenly she frowned Perhaps she
was letting Flossie, the new stenog-
| rapher, get on her nerves. The girl,
dimple, curly-headed, silly, was too OBJ
viously trying to attract her employers
attention. Nancy reflected that it was
none of her business, but no woman
| likes sister woman to make a fool Of
herself-and no woman can be a mans
| private secretary for six years without
a H. tic 70 Ta1 N
Steele deserved a better mate than that
and yet Nancy knew that strong men,
past their first youth, were prone TO
! make just such a mistake.
| She shook herself free of the thought
| and returned to herself. The plain fact
was that her business gave her little
| time to cultivate her old friends, most
| ly married now and engaged in their
own affairs. Her brother was wrapped
up in his business and family. She,
| Nancy, was too much alone, growing
| too retrospective. She was losing her
| individuality and independence, and
| needed to take more care of herself,
! mentally and physically.
| Still in her black Office dress, with
| its white collar and cuffs, she stretch
| ed out a little in the big chair by the
| fireplace where the fire was low, and.
not wanting the lights, sat thinking.
| She put up her hands in a fashion of
/ her childhood and rumpled her heavy
| brown hair, usually SO trim; her sweet
steady gray eyes filled with tears,
which she promptly suppressed. Self
| of humiliation! Why should she be
| sorry for herself? If the office irked
her, why not take rest? Her grand
| mother had, within the year past, left
her little money. s., would resign.
| Why had she not thought of it before
| F'lossie could take her place, and she
| would travel and find broader inter
] ests.
Then it came upon her how much
4 John Steele had been In her mind, and
she fought it out with herself on the
! spot. She would not, simply because
| she was lonely. let herself fall in love
! with the only attractive man near her
| own age whom she saw much of-and
| her employer. at that. That was too
| banal! What would he say when-she
resigned? Would he care? He was not
SO foolish! No; he had showed her ev-
| cry courtesy in the of1ce-the same
/ courtesy he showed to all women, but
never the little light attentions he
| showed even 10 Flossie. to whom, that
very morning. he had. on entering toss
| ed a smile and a rose as one would a
| ball to a l-:tten.
The girl was so soft and pretty-he
could not be blamed. But she, Nancy,
W ould straightway resign before she
made fool of herself. It was high
| time.
| 1t had grown dark in the room, and
coming year when the doorbell reused
| her. Flushed and startled, not stop
ping even to smooth her hair, she went
into the hall. where the light burned
| low. She opened the door.
| She did not realize that it was John
| Steele till he asked, with an attempted
lightness, if he might see Miss Stanton,
Miss Nancy Stanton.
"She welcomes you.' she answered,
| lightly enough, deciding he had called
| to talk business-he often asked her
advice, and she knew he had some i'm
| portant matters under consideration
She babe him enter. and he followed
| her into the sitting room, where she
turned on the lights, half binding her
self by the sudden glow. She pointed
to the big chair where she had been
| sitting, and then began to resuscitate
| the fire; but in his mastering way he
put her aside and went at it himself.
| Then he turned and faced her, noting
her flush, her lovely disordered hair,
her bright, steady eyes. But she re-
turned his gaze, making herself rise to
the situation, as he questioned her.
What were you doing in the dark?
| Where is your family?"
cts ST. Valentines day, and they re
! out junketing. AS to what 1 was do
was resigning my secretaryship with
| you. Just as you rang 1 was wording
| it-wondering whether to be. business
like and polite, or to say simply, I'm
4 go abroad this spring, and 1 intend
to do it-let F'lossie have my place! "
4 She held up her head and smiled at
him. Why couldn't the man say some
| thing instead of staring at her?
''You anticipate me-" he replied
| gravely. Il came to discharge you. /
don't think I can-keep you in the Of
fee any longer. In fact, Nancy he
stammered like boy. II can't bear the
i sight of you in that Office a moment
longer! Oh, can't you see what senti-
mental fool you have made of me?
What are you going to do with me?
See what I did today-wait a mo-
\ menti''
4 He went into the hall while she
stood half dazed- What was he try
ing to say, and bungling it, too, this
clearheaded man of business? Was