The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1912-01-25

queer happiness. With much prompt
ing she told some of the familiar
child-storfes, and then, wondering at
herself, made up fairy stories with an
ease that brought the little ones snug
Cling close to her They told ABOUT
themselves.
Father had to take mother to the
end of the world said David, the
boy. And now you're here, we can
go to Uncle Dee's and see the ducks.
The children were on their feet in q
moment, pulling her up by the hands,
dxHwing her after them through gap
in the hedge of the Sunken garden
exquisitely Japanese, with pool
where hoated mandarins with clipped
wings. Everything was delicately per-
fect-even the brown bungalow off to
the left was a delight.
The children threw themselves upon
her, hugging her.
whats your name?" they asked,
and she answered.
"Kittie because I love soft places
and she threw off her big plumed hat
David rose and began to stick the
pink hollyhocke into her crown of sun
ny hair, and time passed. Peace came
into Katherine's mind. Presently the
boy announced, with masculine force,
that he was hungry. She saw that
the noon hour had passed, and rose.
They pulled her back through the
hedge toward their own cottage. She
would have gone anywhere.
Uncle Dee has only beer in his
us said the girl quantity. He don't
keep house-and he hasn't wife at
all. It's lonesome for him.
It's too bad" replied Katherine
He might get one"
He was going to, but she was too
spensive," sighed the girl.
Kit thought of David Robertson,
and the humor died out of her eyes.
HAD she condemned him TO ire OF
loneliness? The boy rambled on, ex-
planning.
'Spensive means what you can't
afford to buy, like a wife, or pony"
he sighed ecstatically.
At the door of the cottage they met
Aunt Bess. She stared, and then she
and katherine flew into each others
arms.
elizabeth Norton! Where did you
May and Tom imported me to
guard the Riddles while they go round
the globe-thought you were going,
too? Haven't seen you in years.
Heaven must have sent you today
The nurse was called away, and Mrs.
Scott, next door, is i'll. 1 must go
back and help. viii you go in and
feed yourself and the babies and
promise to stay all night with me2"
katharine promised. ''Go in and get
into one of Mays house dresses and
keep house-though I'll wager you
never lifted a cupl I must 60"
Katherine entered her old friends
in a pale blue wash dress to play with
her friends children She remem-
bered wistfully that she might have
married their uncle and been their
real aunt. Where was David now?
She did not even know-probably
gone Ito the end of the WORLD also.
Then she lost herself in simple SER
vice, luxury she had never known,
the sweetness of feeding little children
Her past society life seemed sudden
I ly futile, empty. And while the babes
slept away the late afternoon she
came to her real sweet true self. She
knew where happiness was to be
found, and if David Robertson had
been in her world she would have
swallowed her pride and sent for him
Present. it was after s, and she
was eating bread and milk with the
kiddies when she heard a whistle
The children ran like wild things,
and came back dragging in a big.
deep toned, handsome man with
young eyes and dark hair gray at the
temples.
Here's Uncle Dee. Kittie." they
shrieked. Here he ISL She stood
white and overcome before David
Robertson. Her eyes burned like blue
flame, and then fell before his devour-
20 David" she faltered, 80 David
In that second she had seen all his
hurt and loneliness; and something
melted the hardness of her heart She
flung her arms up around her eyes
with a childlike movement Then she
began to cry in his arms while he
kissed her. The children, overawed,
hello tightly to one another. 1t was
long before they even remembered the
children. Then Uncle Dee stopped
and gathered them into his arms.
Now I'm going to have wife, he
explained grandly. waving a hand at
Katharine.
Little David looked her over doubt
fully. "Ain't you, too-'spensive? p he
queried.
"Not-any morel" she declared joy
ouslv. at costs me too much to live
without the only things really
Copyrighted 1912 by the
Associated Literary Press.)