Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-06-16
THE EVENING STORY.
When Love Is Real.
Copyright. 1918, by ". Werner.)


"Oh, I know" Helen said impatiently
lit sounds awfully romantic and high
souled to say that you love him so Wen
that poverty has no terrors. But, be-
lieve me, it isn't so romantic as IL
sounds. Love is all right. but slrioin
steak tastes better than round, ana
sooner or later you'll sit down and
think about it. And then love is apt
to go into a decline
Frederick Heitt had come home early
from the small real estate office where
he kept books and was general HANDY
man for the richest, stingiest man IN the
town. AS he softly opened the front
door and tip-toed down the hall TO the
living room for the baby might be asleep
he was dumfounded at his wifes clear
voice uttering the cynical words, because
he had been so fatuously sure that
Helen didn't mind being poor with him.
At last he knew that she minded. He
himself minded very bitterly. but ne
would rather be poor with Helen than a
millionaire without her. And he had pima
" supposed that she was in the same
grumbling but contented state of mind
He paused stupidity, half inclined to go
back to the Office and brood in its gloom
But that smacked of cowardlce. He
waited a moment, then went into the an.
ing room on the other side of. the small
hall and drawing a rocker over by the
window. unfolded an evening paper.
The voices in the parlor were not au-
dible there. 1t was tantalizing to hear
the low. indistnguishable murmur. and
wonder what else Helen was saying con
corning the decline of love" Helen s
face rose before him. Not as he always
saw 1t, softly curved almost babylsh,
with gay little smile twinkling in her
round, blue eyes. but as it must appear
now. when she advised another against
the course that she had found hard. NO
smile in her eyes now. Doubtless they
were cold or bitter. and he could imagine
the soft curves settling into firm disgust
ed lines. Unconsciously his own eyes
went to an ugly worn spot in the carpet
at his feet He looked around the room.
The chairs showed wear, the table legs
We're marred: the dishes on the cheap
sideboard were more remarkable for use
than elegance 1t suddenly struck him
that a man had large amount of gall
to expect a woman to scrimp and pinch
and practice every petty economy known
in order to make a small salary reach,
the prettiest girl in town. Half dozen
other fellows. every one making more
than he did, had been at her feet.
Presently the murmur swelled. He
could hear Helen and her guest rising.
When they came out into the hall he rec
ognized the voice of Alice Sewers. a
pretty, spoiled young girl. whose mother
led the small town in social doings.
You haven't converted me. Helen" she
said pouting. But 1 confess you've Civ
en- me something to think about
And you will think about it,? Helen
asked earnestly. Really. Alice dear, if
l didn't care so much for your happi-
ness and wasn't so afraid that it is
going to be messed. I should never have
spoken as l have this afternoon"
'rll think it over Alice promised.
soberly "and-and-any way, I'll come
in again to talk it over before I decide"
The front door slammed. and Heen's
quick steps approached the dining room
She was surprised to see her husband
calmly reading the paper. and imme-
diately got a match to light the gas.
Don't you know you'll ruin your eyes
sitting there in the dusk. you foolish
man." she demanded half GROSSLY.
Then, humming bit Of a tune under