The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1912-03-08
THE EVENING STORY
Her Presence of Mind.
(By EstelIa Benson.)

the brakeman. All out
Miss Bartlett gripped her handbag
with sudden thought of the light
| fingered gentry of New York.
Aunt Lucyi Aunt Lucy! You dar-
ling Aunt Lucy!" Warm, soft young
arms drew her out of the stream of
men and women laden with impedi-
manta of travel. 81 knew you'd come
when I wrote how much L wanted
you to see my picture while it's on
exhibition. There's always some one
standing around it. I'm so silly over
it must have the dearest aunt in the
world see just how it looks in such
grand company"
For a hurried instant the bewilder-
ed little lady felt the puIsebeat of the
mighty city, then she was sucked
down with the crowd into the sub
terranean world where life, shot in
shuttles back and forth, weaves an
1nterminable web of existence A
GREATNESS rush, the flash of lights,
sudden darkness, unheralded stops
and starts, a surge of unspeakable
terror; daylight once more, sanity
and the reassuring upper world.
There was scramble in and out
between street cars, hairbreadth es-
capes from gigantic horses in front
of towering loads, dashes from be-
meath kissing, darling automobiles
anu, pI6SlO, the SWdTnnlnS multitude
dropped away and the deafening
clamor was hushed. She was in a
sleepy street on Brooklyn Heights,
where the old-time houses stood in
quiet, self-contained dignity
1t was the first uninterrupted con-
fidential moment after lunch.
How is Ben, Lucile?" Miss Bart
lett bent over her suitcase. The status
of declared lovers was a beatific mys-
terry to be approached only by half
ar dC
No reply coming, she timidly glanc
ed over her shoulder.
You haven't told me anything
about Ben
Il have nothing to tell" she replied
indifferentIy.
Miss Bartlett's shocked face came
back to her from the mirror.
Don't look like that, Aunt Lucy.
Don't. DON'T He's ali right, / fancy,
only I don't see him any more"
Don't see Ben any more?'
mo; we have learned how utterly
unlike we are. All he cares for is a
It's my life, Aunt Lucy, my very life.
I must have my liberty
''Liberty?''
Yes. liberty to live my own life"
lips. you'll make me cry if you
look like that It wasn't just the pic
ture. Aunt Lucy. wanted you; I
wanted you as I did when L was little
and things went wrong. It's time I
was off to my classes. Here, let
me tuck you up on this couch. I've
tired you all out. Don't stir, darling,
till I get back"
The door closed on her niece and
she was alone. Trivialities occupied
for the trousseau. There was the dan
ger of burglars-and the old home.
She meant Lucille and Ben to have it
when she had used it her allotted
he Iap
was to tend, the boys and girls that
were to romp under the big elms =?
Were they always to be dream chill
dren? Duly her eyes followed the
otonous repetition was into1erable.
She sprang to her feet and fastened
on her wraps with nervous fingers
A damp, chill air met her at the
oppressed her with their narrowness.
She hurried to escape the persistent
nearness of the crowding houses.
From the gray gloom of the sky a
snowflake foated down. |
Thicker and faster, borne by rising
den gust nearly took her from her feet |
She staggered and caught at an iron |
railing passerby heard a groan. |
hesitated, but after a glance at the
high bred face of the well dressed little /
lady, went on
Even the dreariness of the boarding |
house was less forbidding than the
street. A puzzling similarity of the |
corners confronted her; rows on rows
of houses presented an unbroken frol |
Distracted. she crossed and recrossed
streets till lights began to prick out
the whirl of fakes. Wearv |
and faint almost to the point of drop |
ping, she reered help1es;sly from door
to door.
Suddenly she stopped, then follow ed |
Of I.
building. His latchkey admitted hin
and she slipped in directly behind. Yes,
there was the warm red carpet in the |
hall and the serpentine stairs winding
up around the well.
Her room was tark and empty. |
Lucille had not returned. The bed in
vited her and she CROPPED across to
It was grief-stricken face that rest
ed against the pillow, aged by many
years since it's round benef1cence of
the morning. The physical comfort
soothed her as a mothers arms tired
child, and the shadowy room filed
with vague, indistinct forms that came
and went and foated off into the dark
ness.
eyed, conscious that she was no longer
alone Eagerly she raised herself on
her elbow. The light from the street
sent a long, bright ray across the dark
room and her near-sighted eyes made
out a form in front of the dressing
table.
"Lu-' the word was checked. The
form had moved. 1t was a mani
Limp, nerveless, she dropped back
on her pillow. The fear that haunted
her by day, the trembling terror OF
her waking hours at night, had taken
shape
She was alone in the presence of a
burglar.
In ner fright and horror she lay, eol-