Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-07-19
DENTHORN ROAD was one If
those thoroughfares which have

A
gradually come TO a state Of
shabby genttIity after a period Of at
luence.
The houses were tall and bleak and
rronted with grim stucCo, all in that
manner which our forefathers found
so desirable. once they had been ex-
pensive houses. lenanted by people OF
wealth and social standing, but now
The Gables halfway down the ROAD
struck the only firm note Of resist
ance to the general air of decaying
prosperity. Curtains always hung
primly in its easements, the frills II
the muslin window blinds always
seemed newly starched, and the steps
Of the front door were always a mar
vel OF whiteness.
People wondered why Miss Margaret
Weston, who lived there In state with
servants did not move out Of local
ity which WAS deteriorating 20 rapid
ly. Some holder spirits even asked
her why abe stayed on at The Gables
instead OF letting IT, and departing to
reside in a street more betting her
quality. To these Miss Weston an
swered gently that she had lived IN
The Gables most Of her life, and had
no desire to change now.
Miss Weston always answered
everybody gently, for gentleness was
the essence Of her being. The neigh
bors referred to her az an 'old maid,
but even as they used the phrase,
they knew II was not the exact term
by which to describe her. There was
none Of that sharpness about her
which the epithet Of old maid" habit
ually implies.
Long ago, when she was a little
orphan girl OF T. her uncle had adopt
ed her and brought her to live IN
Penthorn Road. But now both her
uncle and his wife were dead. and
Miss Weston was left alone in the old
home, save for the servants
Rather a pitiful romance was Miss
Weston's II was simply the old story
Of the man who had not dared enough.
the man who had leaped 10 false con-
illusions and had gone out Of her life,
to leave her alone.
Sometimes when she tenderly took
a packet Of letters out OF her bureau,
there was one particular missivc
which she had not the heart to re-
read. for IL was too sacred with poign-
ant memories.
Her Dream.
But always she remembered the
night when II was handed to her. She
had only to close her eyes again TO
visualize the scene completely.
She saw herself, quite young, sit
ting before the fire on an autumn
evening. She was trying to under
stand something Why had her cous-
in, Harry Dutton, gone on to the Col
ones without a word OF farewell 20
her? He had made quite a sudden
departure though he had told her that
he was going And yet he had never
said goodbye to her.
And while. she was seeking to I'M
derstand his attitude the small son %
a neighbor had come into the room
shamefacedly
Il say, Miss Weston" he blurted
out, I'm awfully sorry. but clean
forgot"
Forgot WHAT" she asked, puzzled
why. this letter. Mr.. Dutton gave
II to me to give 10 you. He wanted
to make sure you'd get II the same
evening I've just remembered IT,"
when did he give II to your" she
whispered.
Last Thursday And Pm awfulIy
sorry"
Last Thursday" she said to her
self, when the small boy escaped from
the room in relief That was two
days before he sailed"
She opened the letter and read Its
contents.
Dearest Margaret" It ran-"As
YOU know, ! sail for South America
the day after tomorrow. Before | so
J want to ask you something, but /
fear IL will be too much to ask YOU.
You must have guessed that | love
you. know 1t is presumption on my
part 10 aspire 10 your hand, for you