The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1910-09-08
THE EVENING STORY
DIPLOMATS.
DIEIUIIfdVSs
(By Nellie Gravey Gilmore

Diplomats.
(By Nellie Gravey Gillmore.)
The manager of the Brownville d.
vision of the C. & r. closed the door
| of the outer office slowly and stood
for moment thinking intently be-
fore pressing the elevator bell. Then
instead of pressing it, he turned and
re-entered the room and spoke to the
bookkeeper.
"It seems to me, Hobson, that you're
not looking as bright as usual. Any
thing wrong? Possibly a little vaca-
ton might set you up"
The other shook his head. express
| ing his appreciation in a quick, forced
| smile. I'm all right. Mr.. Floyd;
| merely a touch OF hot weather-al-
ways goes against me at first"
- The manager nodded and abruptly
left the Office. He had done what he
| could, of course; the rest was with
Hobson. But he liked the young fell
low. and he didn't want to lose val
liable man. There was something
about the bookkeeper's pale face that
| baffled him.
Alone young Hobson closed the day
book with bang and sat Tor a re-
| Elective moment drumming on the
back of it with a nervous row Of
brown finger tips
/ At this juncture, the Office boy
| whirIed in with the afternoon mail
and dumped it deferentially at his
| superior's elbow. y
| The bookkeeper stifled yawn and
| began YEARLY to sort out the letters
and papers. Suddenly his eyes wild
ened, contracted and the blood
splurged hotly to his temples. 1t was
a full minute before he found courage
| to tear open the pale blue envelope,
addressed with a flourish in one
never to be forgotten, eccentric little
hand. Nonplussed, he read:
| New York, Thursday.
| "Dearest Rettye-What will you
think when I tell you that 1 have
been near to deaths door, for, 10! these
many weeks? Typhoid. my dear, and
every strand of my golden locks tled
/ up in a silk handkerchief in my dress
/ er drawer! But I am wearing the
darlingiest little wig you ever saw, and
the doctor says it'll not be long before
1 have real ringlets all over my head
think of it!
fNow. Bet, here is what I am writ
ing to you about. They're going to
send me to Kennebunkport on the hrst
with a stupid trained nurse. 1 detest
the thought. but am too weak to re-
sist. If could just see you and have
a good, long talk. Can't you meet me
at K? Please, please please.
81 saw one of your pictures at the
Metropolitan some months ago; how
delighted / am at your success. Whal
happy girl you must be!
"I suppose you heard about Ted ano
me? It's all off for good. We had 8
little spat and I was very angry ano
obstinate and Ted went into a perfect
(man's}v rage. We haven't spoken
I'm the meantime, just out of pure
unadu1terated pique, 1 engaged myself
to Hal Bronson.for a month. " y,
marrying him; I merely wanted tc
show my independence. I have about
made up my mind to Join the Rec
Cross and go to Acknowledgements m.
life to those poor brave soldiers VINO
are every day giving their own fol
their country.
IT am returning the last of Ted''
letters and things today, with a little
conventional outline OF my future. F'ol
a long time 1 felt as If simply couldn'
: give up the little forget-me-not ring
but now
"Forgive me, dear, for troubling
you with my absurd feelings. | want
you'd understand.
$40 try to spend at least a weel
to YOUR loving CLO."
: The letter slid from young Hobson''
shaking fingers to the floor.
He stopped dazedly and picked i
, ND. rereading the bewildering line!
with a fast beating heart. One though
; alone of all the wild notions swirlins
J through his brain stood forth lum
inousiy. She still cared. Providence
had interposed a helping hand.
The whole thing was plain enough
She had accidentally placed the wront
letter in the envelope addressed tt
j. him, and no doubt at this very mo
, ment Miss Bettye Breckenridge wa
: perusing Clorinda's last farewell tt
) him!
For an indefinite space of time. tn
bookkeeper sat silent and radiant. H
was not conscious of the arrival an'
, departure of the superintendent; n
paid no heed whatever to the shril
! whistling of the office boy; he did no
1-S~1 rar1rr
l the telephone bell three feet away. Blu
all at once he reached for pen ant
scratched hastily: ,
Dear Bill-What are your plans TO
$ the summer, old boy? Don't you usu
D ally take a rest in June? Perhaps W
= may arrange a little jaunt togethe
somewhere. To tell you the truth.
= am just about down and out Tn
E manager has noticed 1t himself an
{ strongly advised vacation. You know
( several of my family have died o
/ heart trouble when quite young.
( mo. dear boy, I regret to say tina
q The girl-bless her stubborn litti
: heart-went clean back on me. I real
: ize now Chat It is too late) that wa
the one at fault in the beginning
Men can be such brutes. well.
was a Jealous fool and she-while sh
passed me something to reflect upo
: for awhile-she is ordinarily nothin
more nor less than an angel.
ITO save my life can't remembe
n all the blood curdling things we la
a died out to each other that last might
Suffice it to say that I made repeate
and unsuccessful attempts to gain a
interview afterward. She refuse
e point blank to see me. She returne
5, every letter unopened. She failed I
2, recognize mine as familiar face o
e the street.
% Now, just between US. Billy, I sha
2, never care the snap of my finger, 70
5, any other girl under the sun. But
y don't think it is good for man to b
! alone, and 1 have finally made up m
l. mind to lay siege to the heart of Ger
If tain nice little girl 1 know down q
the boarding house That is to say