The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1912-11-01
TIE EVENING STORY
His First Love and His Last.
CBy Martha McCulloch- Williams.

said to herSel1, nOudlng aIter d re-
treating figure. Never but once befo'
in all his born days did Len Harley
have word O. grumble over nothin'
I put out for him. Now-he won't
wear plaids-and [ got the box of EN-
: at sech er bargain. 1 know the rea-
son-he's runnin' after a girl. I aint
| houskep and done fer him, and his
ma befo' him, sence he wore frocks
without findin' out some few things
how the cat jumps and so on. 1 mind
! the other time-when Kitty Baker took
him up ter spite Joe Terry, and let
| him fall kerplunk, soon as Joe come
i ter taw. Lordy! But nothin' suited
| him thenI Not his shirts, her hand
| kerchers, ner nothin' in the world.
And the fancy things he bought! My
/ land! 1t took him five years ter wear
out even part o. 'em-he took and
| give away er whole passel. Kitty
! back home now, a wilder goin' inter
the puppies. Wonder of Lens a-tryin'
! ter warm up the old broth? I'd think
! so, only he rides the wrong way-over
! the red hill, instid o. toward the Baker
! place"
/ Miss Prudence talked to herself be-
cause she had to talk to somebody.
Likewise sine kept sharp eyes on ev-
| erything because she was born with
! the sharp eyes.
| Len Harley resented neither the
loquacity nor the surveillance-bocn
were part of the affectionate loyalty
that had stood him in such good
stead all the days of his life. He
would indeed have told Miss Pru-
dence things, except that he hated to
! take from her the joy of finding them
out for herself. AS he mounted the
red hill ~ had looked homeward
smiling to himself and saying, 9TH
tell Miss Prue the very first one-as
surely as there is anything to tell"
hannV lighter
than for years. Jenny Glare was
enough to make any reasonable man
lighthearted. Sweet and twenty, grace
full as the wind, dainty a flower,
sweetly human, she had swept him
off his feet at the very first encounter
at. the third he had proposed. Now,
at the tenth; he was to have his an
swer.
She was visiting her kinfolk, the
month at most, he might go ana
fetch her from her fathers home.
/ henceforth to be the light of his
heart. She liked him-so much was
certain. Full of fine coquetry though
she was, she had let him see that
much. Moreover, she had said hon
estly, there was nobody else-the root
of her fencing and playing with him,
was merely a defensive instinct. He
had been very patient, as became
dered family if he had not been too
patient. That last time she had SEEM
ed almost to urrender-maybe if he
had pressed her harder, he might now
have the bliss of assurance.
Dismay fell on him as he rode into
the Wild gate. There upon the lawn,
the team embarrassed, rested the
Baker rockaway. Mrs. Baker ana
Kitty Terry had no doubt come to
spend the day. Len had seen Kitty
only at a distance since she came
back-through Miss Prudence, though
he knew she was not reckoned incon-
solable. 1t was awkward-this find
ing her in his path, still it need make
no difference. He would take Jenny
to ride just the same-and before the
ride ended. knew his fate.
Man proposes, woman disposes
otherwise. Kitty Terry met Len with
the air of a proprietor. She fairly
forced him to sit down by her on the
piazza bench. Mrs. Wild was inviS-
ible, Jenny dutifulIy listening to ola
youth and belleship. "They call
Kitty, there, a firt," she was saying;
but lawsy me! She never at her
best came within a mile of me-"
You see-my wickedness was
hereditary Kitty said, under breath.
glancing al Len from beneath lowered
lids. You don't know how it has
touched me-to find you didn't forget,
all these years" she ran on. 81 know
1 was cruel-but then I didn't really !
understand"
Len felt himself f1ush-a dull angry
red. But to an observer it might well
seem the hue of aroused feeling. -IrIe. !
Baker had got up. I'VE must go find
Linda Wild she said over her should /
er. Jenny'n show me where she is
meantime, Len, don't you let that girl !
get into mischief
Poor Len! do hope his constancy !
is going to be rewarded" she purred
hall. My dear, it's been simply
heartbreaking-to know the bow was
so lonely. OF course, it was a pity for
Joe Terry to be taken, cut down like |!
a cumberer of the ground, but the /
ways of Providence are past finding I
out. Len certainly deserves a good |
wife, and Kitty's very we'll left-Ioe's
insurance was very handsome
Jenny murmured something inart1- |
culate-one had only to make sounds |
to keep Nine. Baker going.
Presently they came upon Mrs |
Wild who said rather sharply: you'd |
better go back, Granny Baker, don't /
like company in my kitchen" So the |
progress back began, and at last |
ended. Before it ended though Jenny |
was furiously angry, more furiousIy |
unhappy. Len had trifled with her,
made )ove to her in sport when his I
heart was another's. He had been
cruel-but she would show MIN she |
also could play the game. Son, chow /
she excused herself and ran away to
write a letter.
She was pale but very brighI-eyed |
as she came back to the oiazz;l in
riding dress, the letter conspicuously
in her hand. Don't stir, please
ANYBODY" she said distinctly. III