The Chickasha daily express. (Chickasha, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1899-current, 1915-05-13


was not exactly homely, but she was
not pretty.
III I should try to describe her"
one man in her set was heard to say
in speaking OF Priscilla, 'she has a
personality that is of pastel shades"
Hire hall and make a speech
about her, why don't you?" asked
Tom Royden; for n was to him that
the remark was made. "Or write
her about it. ! never heard so many
eloquent compliments about any one
little drab-colored girl" he said. with
some heat.
Never drab-colored, Tom Any
thing but that"
That's SO. Bill; old maids are drab,
aren't theyg"
And. thereafter. in spite Of himself.
Tom was drawn toward Priscilla The
Tnre he was thrown with her-the
more he danced with her, dined with
her. talked with her-the more he had
to admit her fascination.
Her personality seems to be al
ways Just what ! need. She invari-
ably fits into my mood. Now, what
bothers me is this: does she fit in
this way to every fellows notion?
Does every one think she's just the
right girl?"
Tom pondered these questions
through more than one night. At
length he became frequent guest in
the home of Priscilla's parents in
their country place on Long Island.
And 1t was during visits in her home
that he began to gather. through close
introspection. the reasons for her per
sonality.
Her father. an unusually success
full business man, was bluff and noisy,
self-centered and very proud OF his
achievements In the material world
Her mother was the antithesis of
the father; she was diffident, quiet.
retiring-but sweet Priscilla, born
unselfsh, had tried all her life to
please both parents She had listened
to and ADMIRED her father on all oc-
casions, drawn him out on his ia
vorite topics. fattered him little.
With her mother she tried to be as
interesting as possible; she attempt
ed to make the little woman feel that
she was a part and parcel of the
world instead " a retiring, almost
subdued, creature. And Priscilla sue
ceeded in bringing more color into
her mothers personality than any
one else had ever been able to do.
Mrs. Walker was almost at ease when
Priscilla was about.
Priscilla" Tom asked one night as
they sat at coffee before the log fire
in the dimly lighted living room, is
there anything you can't do-any-
thing you are not interested in?"
Priscilla laughed softly and studied
the black coffee, in the tiny cup she
held. ''Why-yes, | suppose there
are many things l can't do. For in.
stance, can't vote"
And don't want to. / hope" said
Tom, testify.
"Oh-h! but I do, I'd like very
much to have the privilege Of the
ballot, but it is hardly my way to
well. to get out and fight for it." she
said
"Next?" persisted Tom.
"Oh, don't force me to talk of my
self: it isn't an interesting topic"
Not to you, perhaps. But, Pris-
cilla," Tom leaned toward her. ''it
has become the most absorbing topic
for thought. conversation and tconsid-
eration-to me-"
Priscilla only smiled sweet, non
committaI sort OF sssile.
Girl, don't you know most girls
would have blushed-if they weren't
past blushing-or simpered or looked
shocked? And yet you receive that
remark-which you know very well is
only the forerunner of more and Sc
rious 0nes-as IL had said 1t was a
pleasant day. Priscilla, look at me. :"
Priscilla turned her soft blue eyes
full upon him. Slowly a smile dawned
in them even as she looked at him.
"Well?" she asked. What them"
What then? love you. l can't
Slduu IL 10 De away lICIH you 1oT
day. And yet have that awful feel
ing that you are all things to all men
Ito all people in the world. And I
never could stand that. dear. I'm
jealous; | want you to be mine
alone"
"But-Tom," she said, calling him
by the familiar title for the first time,
though he had long discarded formal
ity with her What makes you think
IL am SO much to every one?"
"Oh, the fellows are always making
poetic remarks about you; they're al
ways looking at you: always wanting
to do something for you. And the
girls adore you, So where do come
in? Can you tell me? Or is it against
that tantalizing policy of yours to tell
me. Priscilla?"
You come in--just where you
like" she said with characteristic
quietness.
Tom jumped to her side. ''Pris-
cillal Say it again, You love me?
You really care for me?" he asked.
searching her face Il did not dare
to hope, and yet--oh, wanted you