The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1915-12-18
The EUening Story
In Winifred's Name.

(By Ellie Graham-)
Dot regarded the telegram in her
hand in utter dismay. 1t was there in
simple letters, the message of her
fate.
ARRIVE Tuesday. Gould"
And it was directed to Winifred, of
course, and Winifred was down at Old
Point Comfort with the Beverlys on
their yacht. She would have to meet
him at last confess the whole thing,
and protect Winifred somehow.
She told the boy there was no an
swer. He had found her in the old Ii
brary hunting up something on Toltec
sacrificial rites. Something cheerful
for a warm day, when nearly every
one but herself had deserted the col
lege, and even the campus looked like
a cemetery green for solitude and
sanctity.
The dean, Miss Harmsworth, was in
her study, and Dot tried to appear
mild and disinterested while she put
her head in the doorway and asked
about leave of absence from chapel.
The train from Washington arrived at
7:10. Then she crossed the campus
to the Merope cottage, went up to her
own room and hunted around through
Winifred's things until she came
across his picture.
1t really was a dandy face, she told
herself, standing it up against the
lamp on the low reading table, and
studying it. CIear-cut and fine-feat-
ly. He was an Australian, Winifred
had told her, with an American moth
er, and he had been away from the
States for over a year.
Winifred had met him in Washing
ton, and he had taken fancy to her.
Dot could understand why. She was
pretty and exquisitely feminine and
sympathetic. The trouble was she
played the same record with every
new love affair. 1t was said at the
college that Winifred bought "Sonnets
from the Portuguese and kindred
bits by the gross to give as heart balm
to those she sent away.
But Give Gould had not been sent
away. He had written to her from
San Francisco the day before he
sailed, and Dot had listened to the
letter as she had to with every new
correspondent of her roomma ties. But
there was something about the letter
that held her-an underlying faith in
things, a sense of humor, something
that told the real man behind the
pen.
Il won't answer it, Winifred had
said airi1y. He's too dignified and
slow, Dot
"Oh, you must answer it. He ex-
poets that Wait, I'll do it for you
You old dear thing" Winifred
laughed over at her. you never
write to any boys at all. Go ahead.
He's perfectly safe, bound for Aus
tralia, and 1 don't mind. Hold star
up for him to see his way by and tell
him to cheer up"
But Dot had answered the letter in
her own way, and it had started cor
respondence that had slipped out of
her reach and control before a year
had passed. Now he was back, and
in the letter she had received the day
before he told her it was her letters
that had drawn him over the seas to
her, and she must fulfill all. they
meant to him.
I'll tell him the flat truth" said
Dot, throwing back her head with it's
boyish mass of brown hair. It's just
as hard for me as it is for him. He'll
never even guess what his letters have
meant to me, and now I'm to tell him
that I'm not the girl they We're meant
for. Tell him that Win is engaged
to Bob Beverly. It's a nice situation.
And there hasn't been a single word
of love or nonsense in one of the let
She checked herself guilty. No
love, but all else. Faith and COM
radeship, mutual inspiration-all
were in the letters. She felt miserably
alone already as she waited for him
to come.
The evening was rather cool. Clad
in white wooden dress, with white
sweater and no hat, she watched from
the veranda until sch saw a figure
start across the green from the street;
H. II,
it was he. She knew him in an in
slant from his picture, and she went
toward him without compro-
mise.
You are Mr.. Gould, aren't you?
She gave him a firm hand clasp Il
am Winifreds best friend and she has
gone to Old Point Comfort. Won't
you visit with me awhile? 1 am Dor
othy Page
Up on the veranda they sat. while
Ch nd 70 h foil ~,
and trip over the continental Couldn't
he guess at all of how her pulses were
beating, how she was trying to keep
her nerve still and listen to him?
And all at once something seemed to
snap the tension. She lifted her head
and looked at him, at his wide, ui-
compromising eyes. so direct and true
in their gaze. and she told him the
truth as she had intended to do.
And chats all you see.'' Her hands
put away from her an ina ginary
something, when she had finished. 'T
did it, and I am not sorry either /
Winifred never needed y ouand I did. |
1 never had any one to write to that
everything !
Excepting this
Don't I am sorry iE way for
you, put you won't mind Wihifred t
has always cared for Bob"
I'm not thinking of them. I'm sure
only wish them the greatest happi- +
ness )
''She hasn't been here much the /
past term, not since they were en-
gagged. She was taking a post-grad-
nate course anyway Oh, know /
She rose and stood before him, re- |
bellious, worried, and still in a way
penitent. 'T know you must think it i
was awful of me-
No, don't" He rose, too, and Dot
wondered how he could leave her so +
socn, with just a word of ordinary
oil f17a Lot TaI I
been theirs, and they had grown to
know each other so we'll in them. But
Olive continued:
Those letters, whoever wrote them,
gave me courage and a new grip on
life just when 1 was worried and los