The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1915-11-06
The Euening Story
(By Dorothy BIackmore.)
Only a Rose.

(By Dorothy Blackmore.)
She stood poised in the doorway of
the long library.
/ ''Nunky," she called softly to the
man seated among a litter of manu-
scripts, chow do you like my gown 20
Paul Kennard looked up and at his
ward. She looked like nothing so
much as a gray dove fluttering there
in the doorway. She had reached her
eighteenth birthday, but her golden
curls were still tied at the nape of her
neck. Her coloring was dainty and
accented by the deep crimson of her
lips; lips crimson that not for the
first time Kennard realized that the
hearts of men would be set to beating
by the lure in Nancy Vale. He smiled
a trifle dryly at the thought A Sec
| ond later his arms were extended.
you do like it-then?" Nancy
questioned from the depths of his
arms She reached out and extracted
a solitary pink rose that had lent it's
| beauty to his writing table. II think
I need this in my hair" she said, and
tucked the flower among the riot of
prevail she skipped off. 1t was quite
time for the first guest to arrive for
her coming-out party.
| Kennard watched her go and sighed
a trifle YEARLY. He wished that he
did not have to join the crowd of
friends who were coming to welcome
| his ward into the world of society. His
story, the one lying beside him, was
|
to finish it before daylight.
Paul Kennard was old beyond his
thirty-five years in that he had, at
the age of twenty-one, gone through
a frightful train wreck which left him
mentally aged and physically lame.
The horror and suffering he had wit
| messed in those few appalling hours
robbed him forever of the sense of
youth. His life since that time had
been devoted to acts of human kind
ness and the pursuit of literature.
At twenty-five, his closest friend,
older by many years than Kennard,
girl orphaned and oddly alone in the
world. Nancy Vale, the beautiful
maiden who had captured the rose
from his writing table to put among
girl. Kennard had adopted her be-
cause Vale had left her to him.
81 am going to join her mother"
Vale had said few days before his
death. Take care of her, Paul. Nan
ny and I will try to help you from the
other world-if such a thing is pos
sible"
So Paul Kennard had been "Nunky''
to Nancy Vale for ten years-ten years
that had been filled with complete joy
both to the growing girl and the lame,
thoughtful Kennard.
Some man will get a treasure" he
often told himself, and she fitted
out of the doorway ready to enter that
one might be worthy, clean and up
right. After that Kennard became en-
crossed in his story.
The doorbell rang many times and
men and women fIocked into the great
Kennard drawing-room where Nancy,
looking not more than 15 in her sim
pie gray frock, welcomed her guests.
Often her big eyes glanced swiftly at
the stairs leading from the library,
but each time they returned to smiles
and laushter with a hint of wistful-
ness growing in their clear depths.
'Nunky'' was so absorbed in his story
as to forget that he had promised to
come in and Join her party. Nancy.
too, was wise beyond her years; other
wise she would have rushed tearfully
into the great library and dragged
Paul Kennard to the fulfillment of his
premise But If his happiness lay in
the solitude and silence of the writer's
den then that solitude was not going
to be broken if Nancy could help it.
Inside the drawing room, she was
breaking her heart because she had
been forgotten by her guardian. Her
smiles were radiant and she shyly ac- |
copied the homage offered her from |
the masculine element, an homage that |
promised a rich harvest of hearts for |
Nancy's market.
1t was not until silence reigned |
again in the great house and small |
pink rose dropped YEARLY in Nancy's |
curls that she tiptoed softly to the |
library door. The quiet OF that room |
told her that the story was finished |
and that "Nunky'' was smoking the |
restful cigarette that always followed |
the completion of a good days work.
May I come in ?" she questioned,
already over the Threshold.
Kepnard opened wide his eyes. The
gray frock flung his guilt before him.
1t had been Nancy'5 party night and |
he had forgotten it. She was still a
child in his eyes and he waited for the
outburst of hurt childhood.
ct just wanted tc say goodnight"
she said softly, ana strokad back the
lock of snowwhite hair that lay across
Kennard's broad forehead.
you grow more like your father,
every day. he said in quick apprecia-
ton of her instructive understanding.
HE was the most unselfish and con-
siderate man that every walked the
earth. I'm sorry, kiddie, that your old
uncle forgot the coming-out party. I
could only have limped about trying
vainly to Danish my hero and his woes
from my mind. will get you another
string of those beads
''Beadsi How dare you call my
matchless pink pearls beads" She
touched the exquisite present from
him that cIasped her slender neck
She looked anMously at him. You
won't sit up any longer will you-it's
late now"
"Only till the cigarette puffs out" he
told her and watched her skip off and up
to her room T.
looking at the door through which his
ward had gone Gradually his eyes focused
themselves on a faded pink flower that lay
Just within the library door. 1t was the
rose Nancy had worn in her hair
Kennard rose and picked it up and re-
turned to his desk with it. He sat gazing