The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1915-03-19
The Euening Story
Fate's Other Face.
(By Jean Dickerson.)

Fate's Other Face.
| (By Jean Dickerson)
| Sylvia Lawton pinned on her straw
hat and counting the rapidly dimin-
ishing contents of her little beaded
purse, she left the dingy hall bedroom
and sought the nearest dairy lunch.
| Ever since she had lost her position
| as bookkeeper with the large import
ing house which had crashed to ruin
with many other business failures OF
the season, Sylvia had sought in vain
for another position. There was no
one at home to whom she might APP
peal for help; Aunt Susan, her only
relative, had her stout heart and
hands full bringing up a family OF
healthy boys and girls. Sylvia could
what could she do?
All morning Sylvia had personally
answered advertisements culled from
first editions of the newspapers. She
was tired and disheartened.
When her meager lunch was over
she left the restaurant and walked
toward the brilliant avenue which
threads the dul1er cross streets. At
the corner hung the sign of a well
known art gallery. There was an
exhibition going on and sylvia
beauty loving soul, craving some
thing beyond the sordidness of her
workaday life, prompted her to push
open the plate glass doors and enter.
There were few visitors at this
hOur ana the girl SOWneQ III SIldDDy
blue serge had the rooms to herself,
save for the watchful presence of
scattered attendants.
For an hour Sylvia reveled in the
beauty that was spread on the walls.
A catalog gave bits CT information
concerning many of the paintings.
There was one by an old master,
whose history was world-renownOd.
days wonder - = 90 .-s4-a5 -
Beyond this picture was another
that held the girl .entranced by its
suggestion of mystery. 1t was called
shrouded form of a woman with two
faces One face, turned away, was
closely yelled; the. other, darkly
beautiful, looked out with sorrowful'
Il wonder what is beneath the 9TH
err veiI?" thought Sylvia II would
like to see Fate's other face! Ihis
one Expresses me with it's woe-as if
NJ Preolc'eo what iS' iNp
overcome with sudden dread of the
uncertain future, Sylvia sank down
on a cushioned bench and covered her
eyes with her fingers.
So absorbed was she in the harrow
ing cares that beset her that she did
not hear quiet footsteps on the pol
ished floor Steps that hesitated as
thew neared her seat and then went
forward to look at the picture or
"Fates Fate
Presently a mans cultivated voice,
filed with concern, fell upon her ear.
Pardon me, 1 am afra1 you are
ILL.,
sylvias hands dropped and re-
covering herself with a great effort,
she smiled through the mist OF tears
in her blue eyes.
..Thank you, I am quite well-I
was only thinking" She arose and
would have moved away. but he put
out a hand to stay her
ir+rI rIa bn
said courteously "I am going now.
Have you seen this picture by Ruff
fen-The Old Peddler?"
Sylvia nodded toward the master
piece ooh, yes; but this one, Fate's
Face attracted me- was wondering
the yelled countenance, you know"
cit is rather tantalizing not to
know" he murmured. ct have heard
that the artist could not find model
who embodied his ideal of Fates
other face, and so he yelled it. Sort
of a. surrender to Fate, eh?" He
laughed pleasantly.
Sylvia glanced at her catalogue for
the name of the artist: august
she added with delighted laugh, ''he
painted a Salon picture last year
Loves Cowardicei"
"You know his work, then" re-
marked her new acquaintance, with
a QUICK look lTOIn HIS pIIShl
eyes.
II am not a patron of the arts"
blushed Sylvia with her own mirth
full laugh. II love good pictures and
the Sunday newspaper supplements
are a great boon to. poor art lovers!'
At the moment an attendant APP
preached Sylvia's companion. MIR.
Chisholm would like to see you before
you go, Mr.. Palmer" said the man.
VERY well," said Palmer, turning
back to Sylvia. He surprised a min
gled look of fright and awe on her
lovely face.
"You-you are August Everett
Palmer" gasped Sylvia
Yes he smiled down at her.
Then you should know Fate's other
face-telf me, please, do tell me what
was your ideal
Palmer's strong face grew dreamy
eyed and distracted. He was looking
at the yelled face of the picture as if
he would paint in its features with
glowing words.
My ideal? 1t was the opposite of
that tragic face How often do we
believe that Fate is turning a harsh,
forbidding countenance toward us
when, after ALL she turns her other
face and we discover it to be the
face of love and happiness-realized
ideals-mingled tears and laughter
and hope-always hope shining
through the tears. That was my ideal