The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1911-02-16
THE EVENING STORY
In Ancestral Halls.
tBy Francis a. Corey.


fully at the picturesque old mansion
and the lonely tangled garden.
The charming place should have
been her home. It had been in the
Graham family for 200 years. But
her present abode was the hall bed
room of cheap lodging house; and
her crochety old grandmother dwelt
alone in the ancestral halls with
small retinue of servants.
Thrice had Leslie written within
six months making overtures toward
reconciliation. But her letters had
been promptly returned with the two
words, mot wanted Endorsed upon
the back.
Leslie herself was not to blame for
this unfortunate state of affairs. The
| trouble dated twenty years back
before her day = when Madame
Graham's only son married pretty
actress and the proud old woman had
so was the pink doll for whose love
he had sacrificed himself; but not
even his daughters poverty and
| friendliness had softened madame's
obdurate heart
"I've half a mind to go and tell
grandma rye come to stay" she said
aloud to herself. The aristocratic old
place drew her like magnet. IL
would be like heaven to live there.
She turned her back on the allur-
ing picture, and slowly wended her
way to the dreary boarding house.
| AS she gained the upper landing
Amy Burton opened the door of her
own room, showing a litter of half
packed trunks and empty boxes.
| Come in, Leslie" she said eagerly.
I'm in trouble, and you can help me
out. I heard you say yesterday that
you were out of place. 1 applied to
Madame Graham, of Overlook, for
the position of companion. Word has
just come that am to report for duty
| Immediately, and here's telegram
from home saying mother is very Ill
and I'm wanted there"
| Amy crushed the yellow envelope
nervous1y in her hand, pale with emo
ton.
what do you want me to do?" Les
lie articulated family.
| go to Overlook and keep the place
until I return to claim it..
Leslie clutched a chair to steady
chance, but she did believe in Provi-
dence. For all she was a Graham, 1T
was certain that Amy had never
thought of this fact in connection with
the aristocratic mistress of overlook.
She did not take her friend into her
confidence now. What she did say, af-
ter a moments thinking was this:
Every we'll, Amy, I'll CO."
An hour later she stood again at the
Overlook gate, looking into the love-
1y green tangle- This time the gate
was closed. AS she tugged at the
ponderous latch a perfectly groomed
young man in white flannels rose from
a bench beside the drive and hurried
| forward.
ALLOW me-" he said politely, and
| swung wide the gate.
A warm color leaped into the girls
face. She went up the shaded walk
wondering who the stranger could be
and what he was doing at Overlook.
! She was shown into an old fashioned
room where Madame Graham sat in a
high backed chair Never had Leslie
| seen her grandmother at such short
range before. She looked curious1y at
the little, wrinkled old woman, think
ing what picturesque figure she was
in her lusterless black silk and price
| less laces.
whats your name?" Madame shot
the question at her like bullet Il
have forgotten tiff 1 was ever told.
Simpkins engaged YOU"
| There was a moments pause. Here
1 was a difficulty at the outset. She
could not give Amy Buttons name;
neither would she take one to which
she had no right.
/ Leslie" she answered recklessly.
/ Madame started. Her keen blue
eyes became suddenly two points of
light.
| THAT'S my own name. Leslie Ora
ham" She gave short laugh. MY
mother was a Leslie. There were no
boys in the family. so 1 was given a
Just to keep it in daily use. But I
guess it suits me. 1 hate feminine
names. You're not a Westmoreland
Leslie, of course?''
| The sharp eyes were focused on
the girls face. Leslie felt her heart
! in her throat. But she was spared
the necessity Of replying by the en-
trance of the man who had opened
| the gate for her.
"Hugh Wentworth said madame,
presenting him, ''the grandson of my
| dearest friend. / have asked him here
for two weeks that I may make up
my mind whether he is, to be my heir
or not. Miss Leslie, Hugh"
There was look of genuine adj
miration in the young mans eyes as
he acknowledged the introduction.
give got money enough of my own.
I don't covet madame's thousands"
he declared with boyish laugh.
'NThey must go to those of her own
blood"
mot a dollar to the daughter of a
play acting woman. if that is what you
mean,' snapped madame,
Leslie bit her lip. She let the slur
pass, this once. But never again
should her grandmother disparage
her beautiful mother unrebuked.
| For few days all went well. Les
| lie wrote madame's letters. read to
her, performed the duties of lady's
maid. She would have welcomed any
task that gave her the JOY of living
in that charming house, And then
she began dimly to realize what a
vivid part of the beautiful life for
which she sighed Hugh Wentworth
had already become.
| She fairly haunted the dear old
garden She knew just where her
/ father had loved to play when a boy,
where he had walked and dreamed as
a man. The sweet tangle with its hal
lowed association had charm of
! which she never tired.
One late twilight she wandered I'M
der the trees until the gold was quite
about her a wrap of oriental silk, long
and voluminous. 1t had been her