Hopkinsville Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1889-1918, 1913-11-25
FROM THE OLD HOME
BY L. o. HUME.

There Is no more lonely experience
: than being among strangers in a
large city, upon holiday; so thought
Lydia Hargrave, as she started out for
the matinee one Thanksgiving after
noon, in brave effort to enjoy the
day, In spite OF her lonely condition.
Lydia belonged to an old cultivated
family of Hartford, but, like so many
of our old eastern families. the
strength OF the Hargraves had been
| given to the accumulation OF culture
rather than the accumulation OF dol
lars, and Lydia had accepted a posi-
ton in young ladies' boarding school
| In Buffalo.
MIR. Joshua Wheeler, middleaged,
well-to-do and a merchant of Hartford,
found himself held In Buffalo over
this same Thanksgiving day. He did
not know that Lydia was in Buffalo
indeed, he had not seen nor thought
of her since she was child.
Lydia, as she turned down Genesee
street, headed for the Star theater,
was delighted to see some one from
her old home, and approached Mr..
Wheeler with happy confidence. AS
| she came near enough to speak to him,
she saw plainly that he did not recog-
nize her. She hesitated, and filed with
embarrassment and indignation. hur-
ried on. She had not gone far when
she heard rapid footsteps behind her,
and turning Immediately, discovered
Mr.. Wheeler. In his most suave man.
ner Mr.. Wheeler raised his hat and
inquired II she was going to the natl
| nee
YES" said Lydia, tentatively.
May l join youg" murmured Mr..
Wheeler.
II should be most pleased to have
you" she replied.
| Lydia had been rowing her own boat
for over six years and had learned to
steer.
Mr.. Wheeler secured their seats and
they were comfortably settled with
some minutes to chat before the cur
tain went up. Lydia could not feel
certain that Mr.. Wheeler did not know
her, and in order to test the point,
said:
Now you must tell me who you
are"
Mr.. Wheeler hesitated. then with
emphasis that was slightly overdone,
said:
Calhoun--Calhoun haven't card
with me, but I'm Calhoun-William
Calhoun"
Then she knew.
j, "And where are you from. Mr.. Cal
houn?" sweetly murmured Lydia.
I'm from New York"
New York city?''
Yes, from the metropolis. And
now you must tell me your name"
| Lydia could not think of any high
sounding. romantic name, so she chok-
lngly murmured: Jones, Mary Jones"
20, come now, your name isn't
Jones; tell me what 1t really is"
But 1t is Jones, and 1t is unkind Of
you to doubt It It Is bad enough to
have to go through life with such a
plebeian name without having people
make personal remarks about It,"
Here the curtain went up and their
conversation was interrupted. Just be
fore the last act her escort said:
I'm going to take you home"
NO." said Lydia, trying to fence,
ut is so far out to my house that you
would get lost, and perhaps never get
back"
I'm going to take you home. You
have led me to believe that l might,
and don't intend to let you go alone."
But your Interpretation is wrong"
what other Interpretation is
there?"
This. ! had every right to speak to
you-every right to let you go to the
matinee with me, for l have enjoyed
your acquaintance, and the acquaint-
ance of your wife and daughters, for
many years, Mr.. Joshua Wheeler, of
Hartford"
Lydia donned her wraps, and still
smiling broadly. extended her hand.
81 thank you for the jolliest after
noon Of my life. Now will you take
me to my carr"
I'm heavens name, who are your"
calculated Joshua.
Mary Jones, of Buffalo," smiled
Lydia. "Will you take me to my
carr"
II will"
And he did