The Seattle star. [volume] (Seattle, Wash.) 1899-1947, 1913-08-09
THE STARS SATURDAY SHORT STORY
BY COUVERNEUR MORRIS

WV tNNN Afto aA"efc w.
him. He was first noticed
sitting in the warm corner
made by Wileox's annex.
Pairs or trios OF people, bare
headed. their tennis clothes
mostly covered from view by
clumsy coonskin coats, pass
ing Willcox's. would break in
upon whatever else they may
have been saying to make
such remarks as: HE can't
be. or he wouldn't be at Will
cox's:" or contradictorily:
He must be, or he'd do
something besides sit in the
sun: or. Don't they always
have to drink lots of milk"
or. Anyway. they're quite
positive that it's not catch
ing; or Poor boy, what
nice hair he's got"
The suspicion that this in
teresting young man was a
consurnptivc was set aside by
Wilcox himself. He told Mrs.
cambridge that Mr.. Masters
was recuperating from a very
stubborn attack Of typhoid.
So Mrs. cambridge drove out
to Miss Langrais' tea at the
golf club. and passed on the
glad tidings with an addition
OF cireumstantial detail. Mis-
ter Masters had been sick for
many months at-she thought
the New York hospital.
Mister Masters never re-
membered to have passed so
lonely and dreary a February.
The sunny South was a medi-
cine that had been prescribed
and that had to be swallowed.
Aiken on the label had looked
inviting enough. but ne had
found the contents of the bot
tie distasteful in the extreme.
"The South is sunny" he
wrote to his mother, but. oh.
my great jumping grand
mother. how seldom! And
it's cold. mummy. like being
beaten with whips. You were
right about the people here all
being kind; they are all the
same kind. l know them all
now-by sight: but not by
name, except. Of course, some
who are stopping at Will
cox's.
But in spite Of all this
there is q truth that must be
spoken. / feel a thousand
times better and stronger than
when l came. have no one
to talk to but your letters. So
don't stint me. Stint me with
money If you can (here defy
you), but for the love OF
Heaven keep me posted. If
you will promise to write
every day I will tell you the
name of the prettiest girl in
Aiken. She goes by eight
times every day. and she
looks my way out Of the cor
ner Of her eye. And / pre-
tend to be reading and try
very hard to look handsome
and interesting
Such was the usual trend OF
his letters. But that one dated
March 7 began with the fol-
living astonishing statement:
81 love Aiken. :"
and went on to explain why.
But Mister Masters was not
allowed to love Aiken until
he had come through the
whole gauntlet OF gossip. But
finally the real truth about
him, or something like it, got
out; and the Ratchet of sus-
picion was buried. and there
was peace in Aiken.
This was the truth that got
out about Mister Masters. He
was a nephew OF the late
Bishop Masters. His mother,
on whom he was dependent,
was very rich; she had once
been prominent in society. He
was 80, and was good at
games. He did not work at
anything.
So he was something that
Aiken could understand and
appreciate: A young man who
was well-born. who didn't
have to work-and who didn't
want to.
Aiken took a great fancy to
Mister Masters. First because
Aiken was giving him good
time and, second, because he
was really good company
when you got him well cor
nered and his habitual fright
had worn off.
But gradually he became al
most at ease with nearly every
body; and in the shyest,
gentlest way enjoyed himself
hugely. But the prettiest girl
in Aiken had very hard work
with him.
I don't mean that the pair
- ....iixI L. L