The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1910-07-18
THE EVENING STORY
False Pride.
(By Clarissa Mackie.


mountain resort had come to an end.
Every instant from her happy arrival
as the guest of her cousinS-the
Forbes-had been filled with pleas
ure; there was painful delight in
the rush to the distant station in the
motor car filled with merry girls in
dainty attire because Jack Treadwell
was laundering along in another car
close behind.
At the station everybody talked at
once, and it was not until the very
last moment that Jack Treadwell
found an opportunity to speak to
Eleanor.
IT shall motor back to town later
on. If I journey through Rosedale,
sey?"
Eleanor's brown eyes sought his in
sudden trepidation. THE roads are
dreadful-we are quite in the back
woods" she faltered.
Jacks face heightened. You dis
courage me-" he said quietly. Per
haps we may meet this winter"
II am going home to Rosedale and
shall probably remain there. Good
bye, Mr.. Treadwell," holding out her
hand. land thank you for those de-
lightful drives in the Whirlwind." She
leaned over and touched the shin
ing car with a gloved finger.
Then the rest of them crowded
around her once more and Eleanor
withdrew her hand from Treadwelrs
close grasp and made for the waiting
train.
When the last goodbye had been
said and her face had nodded a smil-
ing farewell from the window, the
station melted from view as the train
gathered Roadway down the steep
grade.
Eleanor looked wistfully at the ar
ticles in her lap; each friend had con-
fT~I a n T1r
of her journey.
She was very glad that she had not
encouraged Jack Treadwell to come
to Rosedale. The fashionable set to
which he seemed to belong by right
of birth or wealth was far above the
quiet round Of her simple country life
from which the kindness of her cou-
sins had afforded her a brief escape.
She knew that. Treadweu was an
artist and some one had said that
he was rich. In the hurried round of
pleasure there had been little time for
girl had nothing in common with
these pleasure-seekers now. Once
more Eleanor assured herself that she
was glad she had told TreadweIl the
roads about Rosedale were bad.
Because she was glad, the tears
came into her eyes and her throat
frightened. Then the tears were wink
ed angrily back and she opened a
magazine. .
When the lights of Rosedale pricked
out of the deepening twilight that
night the past week seemed to drop
the platform to meet her
Hello, Eleanor! guess Aunt
Hester'll be glad to see you: little May
has got the measles. You'll find plenty
| to do
Indeed the present was crowded with
work and the brief past was blotted
out. Once in a while Eleanor paused
In the round of some tiresome duty
| with her head poised in a listening at
titude. her heart beating suffocatingly
The distant sound of an automobile
| horn momentarily growing louder
| the z-z-z-z-zipping rush past the farm
| house-and the dying blast of the horn
sinking into silence.
Then the ordinary noises of everyday
| life drowned the tumult in Eleanor
| breast and she would resume her tasks
! bravely.
Sometimes she wondered what Jack
| Treadwell would have thought If he
could have seen the plain, o1d-fashion-
| ed farm house with it's clustering,
| weather-beaten outbuildings all set In
| the midst of giant locust trees and
| Towering shrubs. Tt was very differ
ent from the handsome country resi-
| dences he visited.
| One August day Eleanor was hanging
clothes to dry in the sunny side yard.
Martha Zones, Aunt Hester's maid of :
| all-work, had caught the measles from
| little May and in high dudgeon had
| taken to her bed. In a community
alternative except to take hold and do
Martha's work. This Eleanor did with
all the strength she could put forth
| Today she was tired and depressed
| and feeling very much out of it all as
she pinned the garments on the line.
Inside the pink sunbonnet her dark
| eyes shone wistfully as she heard the
| approach of a motor car. She turned
| her back to the road and pinned sheet
with exacting care.
| The machine approached slowed
down and stopped outside the fence
| Eleanor stood transfixed, the sleeves
rolled back from her round arms.
4 rs this Mr.. Henry Birdsey's placer
| Eleanor would never forget Her heart
leaped; then she thought of the shabby
| old house. in mad disorder now, of the
world to which Jack Treadwel1 be-
| longed, and decided.
rs this Mr.. Birdsey's placer" re-
Eleanor did not turn her head
mo" she said in a strange. hollow
lyoice. ut is next to the church"
| saThank you.'' came Treadwell's
voice, hesitating. Does Miss Eleanor
Birdsey live here?"
mo" said Eleanor. quickly.
There was silence for moment and
then, as if reluctantly. the machine
slowly chugged past the house.
| Eleanor sank down into a crumpled
heap on the grass with both hands or
her tumultuous breast.
"I'm glad 1 did it!'' she cried fierce
lily. HE would have despised us-we
are poor farmers. l wish / had never
gone to MountaintoD!"
There was the sound of distant
crash followed by shouts of men.
Eleanor sprang to her feet with sud.