The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1915-11-17
The EDenirg Story
Across the Brook.
(By Clarissa Mackie.)

AcTOSS tic DfOOks
(By Clarissa Mackie)
The hillside was dappled with sun
light, and at it's foot a brook muir
| INJURED musically before it plunged
over the messy rocks and disappeared
in the cool depths of the wood be-
yond.
Grace Pitt dipped her toes in the
brook, shook the drops from her pink
toes, and with a contented sigh
leaned back against a large rock and
opened her book.
Every time she rurned a page one
sunburned little hand dipped into a
box of chocolates and transferred the
sweet to her charming mouth.
Grace's eyes were blue or gray or
green, like a changing pool of water,
fringed with dark lashes- Her silky
black hair cleaned in the sunlight.
She was more than pretty.
You forgot the chocolate!" ex-
claimed masculine voice.
Grace lifted amazed eyes and beheId
Ferd Winters. the nephew of Mrs.
Chilworth, the owner of Mapleshade
farm, where the Pitts were boarding.
You forgot the chocolate" repeat
ed Ferd. his bronzed face reddening.
''Why, what in the world do you
mean? ?" she demanded in amusement
i've been watching you-When-
ever you turned a page you ate a
chocolate-and that time you turned
the page and forgot the chocolate. I
spoke inVo1uDtarily.'
Grace laughed. Il was so absorbed
in the story that I forgot the candy
do have some" she said, extending
the box
mo. thank you. 1 came to bring
you some letters he said crossing
the stream in one stride and dropping
handful of letters in her lap. you
said you were looking for a special
letter"
''It is here!" she cried gladly, tear
ing it open
at am very glad" he said stoically.
"Ch, wait a moment, Mr.. Winters"
she protested. IT want to tell YOU
something's very special friend of
ours is coming on this afternoons
train. VIII you take me to meet him,
please? ?"
Certainly. "A man, I suppose %
She nodded Mr.. Carver-you will
like Harold immensely" she said en-
Enthusiastically.
"Why shall I like him?" he de-
Pitt?'
''WThy-no-because every one does
I like him very much indeed. Mr..
Winters. 1 have always known him
he is Splendid
He hesitated and turned away
I don't suppose you'll have time
to take any more rides in the little
red car he said glumly.
I'm afraid I won't have much
time, she admitted You have been
ightful excursions in the car. 1 shall
always remember the dear little red
car" she smiled.
Long after you've forgotten the
owner?'' he asked quizzically, as he
strobe away.
She called after him to tell him that
Horace Carver was coming on the
4;10 train: He nodded grimly and
Grace watched him, fine, up
standing young man, a successful
farmer, a power in the village, man
with future ahead Of him, people
predicted.
IF he were only our sort" thought
Grace, rem embering Horace Carver
and his rocial prestige. She had often
wondered why her plain, practical
parents criticised the indolent Horace
and his pleasure-seeking life Only
last night Mr.. Pitt had declared that
the girl who married young Winters
would be mighty lucky.
AS If there were any choice be-
tween Horace Carver and Ferd Win
ters," she thought disdainfully. st
can fancy fathers look of horror if
proposed marrying Ferd-pooh,
goose" she chided herself with hot
cheeks. What would sensible
youth like Ferd want with an airy
butterfly wife like me?''
She amused herself with this
thought and then, finding that it was
not unpleasant to consider, dismissed
it in a panic of fear. Drying her
feet, she put on her shoes and stock
ings and went across the fields to the
farmhouse.
Ferds little red car was at the door
There was rumble seat where either
Grace or Horace might sit on the re-
turn trip. But The little red car seemed
reluctant to meet Horace Carver and
by the time Ferd had coaXed it up to
the railroad station the 4:10 train had
come and gone and the station agent
reported that the solitary arrival had
crossed the road and taken the short
cut through the woods to Mapleshade
Farm.
We will overtake him on the wood
road said Ferd confidently. for the
little red car was not afraid of ruts
OF bumps and hollows and gracefully
took thank you, ma'ams'' whenever
they occurred.
The wood road wound through
miles of oak trees. Thunder rumbled
oTninously. the sun darkened and was
hidden from view and warm drops of
rain battered on the leaves.
I'VE can reach the top of the hill