The Parker post., 1913-02-01
HER UNLIMITED GUEST
BY WILLIAM BURTON.

IN an apartment of her own-she oc-
cupied her fancy more with the spare
room than with any other
This was curious, inasmuch as she
was a woman not much inclined to
sociability, being fond of her own So
ciety. So why in fancy she should
always be furnishing that spare cham
ber, laying the gray rug on its floor.
hanging the dimity curtains and
smoothing the Marseilles spread, she
herself could not explain.
She even arranged the books In the
little white case, books calculated to
put guest in good humor with him
self, books which would bring about
that peaceful state of mind conducive
to sleep. She would have no exciting
novels, no passionate poems, no soci-
illogical firebrands in her guest
chamber. There should be such vol
umes as "The Measure Of the Hours"
"Society and Solitude" Sesame and
Lilies" These would become the
shelves and crafty a guest even If he
never got beyond the titles.
SO when by a generous increase in
her salary the apartment was made
possible she took one with five rooms
instead of four, because, as she told
the agent, she must have a spare
room"
The rooms of reality are never as
well furnished as are those in the
1, ~ hnr
guest chamber was marvel of white
ness and daintiness. There was a
lovely gray hand woven flower bCrd-
cred rug on the floor and French
striped paper with pattern Of tiny
rosebuds on the wall. The woodwork
was white, and so were the little iron
bed and the enameled dresser and the
stiff chair There was another chair,
rocker, covered with cretonne Of
much the same pattern as the paper,
and it stood close to low wicker ta-
BILE on which was placed a small rain
bow glass vase, an Indian basket and
a few books.
The covers Of the books we're Of
the same colors as those in the wall
papeF-pink, to match the buds, or
green, to match the buds leaves-and
they looked like the kind of books one
is proud to buy, but never has time
to read. But ''The Measure of the
Hours" Society and Solitude and
Sesame and Lilies" stood up fresh
and inviting.
1t was a conventional room, but it
had cost much thought and self-denial
to procure it. And it was ten times
more costly than her own.
But where was the guest? After
three months of residence in her new
home she had never turned down the
Marseilles spread nor put flowers in
the rainbow glass vase, nor brought
out the guest towel that she herself
had embroidered. OF course, all sorts
of imaginary persons had occupied the
room and had expressed themselves
as having slept the sleep Of the just
and of infancy, and of having felt
strong desire never to be obliged to
torter and the Marseilles spread that
covered it.
Sometimes the guest was a cousin
whom she had known in her child
hood and who had gone through Har.
ward and was now practicing law in
Boston; the rose comforter and the
Sesame and Lilies" would be none
too fine for him. Then again it was
an old friend of her fathers, an aris-
tocratic woman, who had visited them
in the days of their prosperity, and
who, being literary in her tastes,
would be sure to appreciate the quail.
ity of the quilt and to pounce upon
the Sesame and Lilies"
One day. a minute after she had
closed the door on the grocer's shabby
boy, who had consented to deliver her
groceries after she had returned home
at night, she heard a crash on the
back porch and the sound of some one
falling. She opened the door quickly
and turned the electric light upon the
white face of the boy who but a mo-
ment before had been explaining to
her why he had brought white corn
meal instead of the yellow she had
ordered. Now his face was as white
as the meal and he looked as If he
would never again deliver groceries.
He was only mite of boy and
she had little difficulty in getting him
into the guest chamber and on top of
the Marseilles spread, where he re-
mained until the arrival of strange |
DOCTOR who ordered that he be placed
under this priced coverlet and that
he remain there until able to be re-
moved to his home. That was not un-
til the end of the second week.
Those two weeks she declared to
be the happiest of her life, though the
guest who occupied her spare cham
Der showed no interest either in
books or bouquets. After he had
gone she used to love to sit alone in
the little rocker, staring meditatively
at the backs of the books and at the |
roses on the wall
But this is not all of the story. She |
the doctor and turned her |