The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1912-08-26
TIE EVENING STORY
Two of a Trade

would inherit Grandmother Vane'J
| noney-grandmot had a clinging
70 her blood, and had set her heart
match of the two.
OnW1sely she had tried to bring
xAitonoy up with that in mind. By
| nature rebellious, also by nature
| oeauty-loVlng and wilfuI, he had been
h a.? neaIiy insolent over the matter as
| ms IatherS son could show himself.
! his father was the one thing in life
ne reVerenced-and discourtesy to any
woman John Allonby, the elder, could
not forgive. A real man, said he,
| owed such courtesy to himself re-
| CARELESS of whether or no the woman
| deserved it.
So his son had only said 'Impos-
| slole, Granny" not trusting himself
to explain the impossibility. Dad was
| told: Il wouldn't look at Lura one
year, let alone my whole life through,
for all the money in the Bank of Eng
| land-let alone Granny's little hand
full
That was before the crash came
by several years. The crash beggared
John Allonby the elder, and brought
a stroke that left him but a living
shadow of himself. But when after
months of silence he could speak with
difficulty, he said: tSon-it is-worth
-everything-to find you-what you
are Allonby muttered something
gruff, and turned away his head,
blushing like a girl. Later when his
father slept in his wheel chair, he
got up from his desk. and fondled the
withered right hand, as a mother
might fondle her sleeping baby.
He had not been bred to work
his profession, the law, meant years
of starvation, waiting for clients. In
extremity he had turned to writing
the returns were precarious enough,
yet he could do the work, and keep
with his dear invalid. The dear in
-~,1S \ .rr-%I II, IL h A. - ~
self-it did not matter. A small house
remained to them-the sole relic Of
their once great possessions. By help
of his fathers sometime valet, now
cook, cham herman, gardener, and man
of all work, the establishment kept
going in a ramshackle fashion. Grand
mother Vane's weekly hamper helped
a. lot; also,s her weekly dinners. Allon-'
by went to them by his fathers ex-
press orders.
1T is the least return you can de-.
Gently make for your mothers moth
er's kindness" said the elder.
I4ura was rarely at the dinners.
managing some way to have other en-
gagements. At first AHonby had
been glad.
Later he had come to resent her
absences. They were not cousinly-
and he was bent upon keeping up a
surface of amity such as should pre-
vail among folk of one blood.
He had not spoken with her for
three months. An impulse he did try
to understand, sent him to cross her
path. She was coming toward the
gate. He waited there, still sneering
a little, but also smiling.
Accept my Fluctuations" he said,
half extending his hand. This is no
place to offer them-that know well
but you give me no other chance"
81 am not sure I understand you"
Lura said, coloring family. She was
slight and dark, with an oval face,
Il H. h
you surely have not heard" she
went on, breaking off uncertainty.
Allonby smiled more confidently. ST
did not need to hear, he said. 1T
flashed over me that you and Dick
Helm were made for each other, the
very minute I saw you together. Let
me know when the wedding is to be
so I may turn you out love-verse,
having nothing else to give
'Tm just little afraid you will
suffer from suppressed poesy if you
wait for that OCCASION Lura answer
ed-and now she smiled. But don't
Dick and Lesta Mills have come 70
an understanding at last. There is
no talk of marriage yet-but I dare |
say you will be warned in time"
when the scoupdrel has been at |
your apron strings this year and |
morei AS your next kin, ought to
call him to account Allonby said. |
The sneer was quite banished, the |
smile sunny. L was JeSIlng, ne ran
on ''You know that. You are not |
the sort of girl a man plays fast and /
loose with. Did you know about Lesta |
all the time %
Everything. And did my best to
bring them together. They had quar- |
relied over such a little thing" Lura
answered, making as though to pass
on.
AIlonby flung open the gate. say
ing, entreatingly, Dad wants to see
you; are you big enough to shame me, |
by coming in ?''
Lura Iaughed-a low, pleasant I
laugh. you think I'm high and
naughty still over your refusing me-
she said when she could speak. Don't /
my life? Think what it would be
two of a trade in one poor, small /
fami1y!"
Ailonby looked mystified. Lura
laughed again. I'VE are surely play
ing at cross purposes" she said. You
don't know-what came to tell you.
I have won the first prize in the
'Era's' story contest. Two-thousand
dollars! Really, can't believe itl''
Allonby staggered as if he had been
struck. Things were at desperate
pass with him; not for months had he
sold anything considerable. His hope
centered upon this prize: he had sent /
sick, shivering, cold; by a supreme
effort he steadied himself and held |
out his hand. saying huSkily, $50 after
all: my Fluctuations are due"
'sThat depends Lura said almost
wistfully: then coaxingly: Jack
can't you, won't you, remember we
are cousins? Please take this foolish |
John. DR.. Green told me little |
while ago there was a chance for him