The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1913-04-04
TIE EVENING STORY
FORGOTTEN.

by Edna Herron.)
mo more Cornville for me-the
city life and freedom and - Hell
voice faltered the least bit but it was
enough to take advantage of. Arthur
Balm said quickly.
And what else? Failure. You are
not fitted to make your living in the
city. You have a good home and
friends and all you know is to en-
terrain and be your own sweet sell
among them. What else? Regret
Elsie Manning, for leaving all this and
placing yourself where you ought not
to be-
t'Never!" Elsie tossed her head de-
family. mo failure. no regret for
me. I'll succeed and I'll thank my
stars in future years that I broke
away from a little burg and lived my
own life." Arthur regarded her with
real concern in his honest eyes. Was
this gentle little Elsie-his Elsie?
do you remember the promise you
made me-have you forgotten that
afternoon on the hillside-our hill
side?"
Elsie broke in quickly, startled by
a husky note in his voice that she
had never heard before.
81 remember, Of course, Arthur, but
want to forget-I mean to forget
all the hillsides and valleys too, and
the old weather beaten church and
And me, Elsie?"
81 want to remember you always
as friend" she began bravely
MOI She didn't know Arthur could
speak like that or look like that.
She trembled a little, but her de-
termination did not waver. She stood
looking up into his blue eyes which
just now had look Of steel.
NO" Arthur repeated. MY life is
here. Your place is here, but since
you choose to forget the promise you
made me and all the things that make
up life to me. then forget me, too.
Goodbye" =
why, Arthur, you'll come to say
goodbye"
.'Goodby,,' he repeated, "and good
luck to you" and this new Arthur
walked swiftly down the path without
turning his head.
It had never been such a beautiful
morning Elsie thought as she con-
tinued her packing after Arthur's de-
parture. The sun streamed through
the windows and lit up her bright
hair and warmed her sunny features
1t was early spring and the sweet
odor Of peach and cherry blossoms
was waited to her on the breeze. She
smiled for pure happiness.
What did she say she wanted? Life
and freedom? Life, yes. but freedom
was hers now in a measure. There was
none to say her nay. She and her
mother had lived in their own little
home until her mother died. The lit
tie house was still hers. 1t was to be
shut up just as it was while the daugh-
ted went to the city to win a. fortune.
Friends she had in plenty and Arthur
she knew was fond and true. But as
a part of the life she was leaving she
must forget him. He himself had said
so.
Forget Arthur, How strange the
spoken words sounded to her ears.
Why, she had known Arthur al
ways
But friends came in to chatter and
disturb her thoughts. Packing was
endless. So many little things had
been forgotten, so many things to do,
goodbys to be said, advice to lisen to,
that all thought Of Arthur was driven
from her mind.
Evening came. Her chums had all
gone home. Her packing was done.
The last little task was COMPLETED
and the two little trunks were strap
ped and ready for the morrow. At
in the morning Old Jake Morse would
bundle them to the depot. Her little
house would be locked up, she would
take a last look at Cornville, climb
aboard the train and all her dreams
come true.
Somehow, sitting alone in the little
parlor in the somber twilight, these
thoughts did not cheer. The joyful
anticipation did not come. A vague
dread took it's place. After a while
she wandered restlessly out to the
kitchen, and from force of habit
stood looking up the village street.
No familiar figure swung down the
path. It was his hour, but he was
not to come. She was to forget him
and be herself forgotten.
Oh-be forgotten. She hadn't
thought of that. A queer little catch
in her throat came for a moment. Be
forgotten. Yes. surely. if she wished
to forget Cornville and all that be-
1onged to 1t she must wish herself to
be forgotten. OF counsel And then
there was the wonderful city to take
it's place.
But everything was done If she
1t was foolish to wander around the
old familiar rooms in the gathering
darkness. 1t was o'clock-late for
country callers. She found herself
once more in the kitchen gazing
yearningly UP the street.
Then she went back in the parlor,
lit the lamp and opened wide the
front door. Soon a bevy of girls
f1ocked in ''just for a minute Elsie
was gay with the rest; her cheeks
burned and her eyes shone, but there
was strained note in her voice and
her laughter seemede near tears.
Finally the last of the girls had
gone, leaving fond kisses on E1sie's
lips and a few honest tears on her
flushed cheeks She closed the door.
The neighbor woman who stayed with
her nights had gone to bed and Elsie
sat once more in the little parlor ALL
alone.
After while she went up to her
little room for her last sleep in the
little white bed that she had always