The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1915-01-25
The Euenine Story

The EDening Story
In a Drixzling Rain.
(By Hope Anslee.)
A soft drizzling rain was daring the
roses in Constance Atwood's cheeks to
come out and get wet. And the roses
were fast appearing as she walked
briskly through the damp cinderpath in
Central Park.
1t was Saturday afternoon and Con-
| stance had promised herself that she
would finish knitting the last of her six
pairs of socks for the soldier boys be-
fore the Wednesday boat should have
sailed. lAer small brother and sister.
being prevented by the rain from play
ing out of doors, would demand the at
| tention of Sister Constance II she were
at home. Therefore she decided to seek
the shelter of a summer house in the
park, where on a day like this she was
sure to be alone.
| BY the time she reached the circular
shelter among the dripping maple
trees, damp curls frolicked about her
snowy forehead and her cheeks were
glowing. She found the least moist of
the seats and extracted her knitting
from her macintosh pocket. Then she
began to knit, and presently. being
alone and peacefully happy, to HON.
A beautiful girl sitting alone in a
summer house on a cold, drizzling day
knitting socks is not an every day pic
ture. Indeed it was such an unusual
sight to Donald Grey when ne came
upon it that he almost stopped in his
course to stare. But an innate sense of
propriety kept him from doing anything
So rude.
Constance looked up casually as he
passed and her calm, level gaze met
| IT. A. 49,
tinued her knitting and the man
strobe on through the winding path.
| But the mans peace of mind had
been disturbed. Only his deep-rooted
sense of chivalry kept him from re-
tracing his steps for one more look at
the lovely girl. He realized that he had
only slender chance in a thousand OF
seeing her again, and yet at that mo-
ment he could think of no other person
| whom he so desired to see. agafn-and
often.
Like most men who have reached the
age of Internationally. Donald Grey
had a vague ideal of womanhOod. From
this day forward Donald's ideal was not
Ivague-in appearance at least, She had
blooming cheeks, widely set dark eyes
and brown curling hair. Also, his ideal
could knit.
After he was out of sight of the girl
he sIackened his pace to veritable
|
he had been striding when he had run
face to face into his ideal girl had sud
denly lost interest. Before that mo-
ment he had been lamenting the fact
| that his rooms and the club where he
played on Saturday afternoons had
been SO far apart. Now he did not care
where the club was located.
| He began to wonder which path the
girl would take when leaving the sum-
mer house. Not that he could lay in
wait for her. but it would not be inn
possible to observe her unseen from a
vantage point. True, he would feel like
some of the 1oiterers about the park
whom he had always despised. and yet
if the girl did not see him, he could be
doing no one harm.
| Suddenly his musings were abruptly
interrupted by the approach of big
Irish park policeman leading small
child reluctantly by the hand. The
| the tiny tot.
Gotta lost kid" he said laughingly
| to Donald.
Donald looked at the pretty little
girl. Fine day for youngster like
that to be alone in the park, isn't it,"
he asked.
Fine for the pneumony! Says her
mas knittin' and she run off," vol
unteered the policeman further.
Donald Grey paled little. Knit
ting. did you say? Her-her moth
err"
..sure. why not? Amt they all
a-doin' it day an night for Tommy
Atkins and the loilke o him." asked
the officer.
IT saw a young woman back in the
summer house-a-knitting," said Don
aid.
where" asked the policeman
alertly.
"I'n show you-it's quicker" and
Donald led the way back to the sum
mer house.
The little one trotted beside the bis
, policeman and Donald humming gay
N. She seemed not to care who hel
protectors were. SO long as she wa
having a little excitement. Donald
could see that much in the tots eyes
When she saw the trio approaching
Constance stopped knitting and stared
But Donald could see at glance thai
she had not lost anybody's baby. She
looked from one to the other as the
three drew close.
..Aslxfn' yer pardon, lady, but did
We lose this kid? ' asked the police
man.
Constance laughed She shook her
poor baby lost %
She sure is-says her mas .a-knit-
tim and she run away
! .'And T. interrupted Donald. a
trff1e embarrassed now that he was
: actually in the presence of the girl
Il having seen you few moments
since told the policeman of you when
he asked, il I'd seen the child's moth
!. err This was not strictly true. but
: the truth was embodied in the state
ment.
Mas doin' that said the child
gayly. pointing to Constance and her
knitting.
: us she, dear?'' asked Constance
and Donald realized that she had the
voice, too, Of his IDEAL And where