The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1916-08-16
EVENING STORY
The Red Plush Barrier.
(By Jane Osborn.)

had known them since they were
babies that not even the most conyen-
tional or the most prudish really took
exception to their housekeeping ar
rangements Probably every woman
in the town knew that under similar
circumstances she would nave done
exactly the same.
Martha Brooks was old Mrs. Bar
rows niece and Tom Barrow was Mr.
Barrow's nephew and, both having
been left orphans in their childhood,
they had been brought up with all the
intimacy of brother and sister. Both
had become fixtures in the old Barrow
homestead. 1t was conveniently placed
for Toms business and Martha was
intimate with the neighborhood. Be
sides, by the will left by Mrs. Barrow
the house was left as joint property so
long both resided there. In case of
the failure of either to live there, the
property was to pass to the other.
Neither was so well off as to be able
lightly to renounce the part ownership
of this shelter, SO neither had taken
the step.
1t was nearly a year after the death
of Mrs. Barrow had left them the sole
tenants of the house, save for an old
family servant, that ToR first dis
cussed the subject with Martha
eff we both hadn't acquired such a
strong reputation for humdrum pro-
priety and conventionality," he said,
"I think some one might take excep-
ton to the arrangement"
Martha raised her graceful eyebrows
over a pair of fine, dark eyes, and
looked at Tom with an air of mild sur
prise. How perfectly ridiculousl As
if woman of 80 and man of 35 who
have known each other since babyhood
and have been brought up in the same
| house for twenty years couldn't live
together without setting peoples
tongues wagging."
'Thirty-two." repeated Tom, not
quite CALAMITY. NO, you aren't ex-
actly a girl
"And every one knows that 1 don't
really care twopence for you
| THAT is very kind, 1 am sure"
Tom re-established the paper in front
| of his place and went on reading. But
you are right. No one can help see
| that we are not of the mold of which
affinities are made Funny-isn't it
| what makes us so Indifferent
Martha leisurely poured her second
cup of coffee. 1T isn't so much that,
Tom,'' she said. 1T is more that we
are absolutely-how shall 1 say it?
perhaps dissimilar in taste will do"
She gave a rapid look around the
heavily hung dining-room and almost
| shuddered as she did so. 1T is that,
isn't it?"
Partly" agreed Tom, but, of
course, it is the only thing for US to
do, living here together; 1 mean. We
might get a third person in with us
for respecta bilitys sake, and 1 don't
know whether / want to burden my
self with some one else who might be
even less congenial.'
mo, unless you were to marry
Tom didn't answer, and for five min
utes he went on reading his paper.
| Martha continued to sip her coffee and
nibble her toast.
AT least, Tom added, as he rose to
leave for his business, I'VE are never
seen together anywhere. Goodness
knows You are away from home
enough without me-"
Yes, and you are home quite as sell
dom as l am But don't imagine that
| l want you to tell me where you co.
Tom went off to his business and
Molly went directly to her own room,
the only room in the entire house, in
fact, which she ever frequented more
than was necessary The old draw
| lng-room, with it's clumsy hangings
was nightmare to her. The library
with its shelves of antiquated law
books that had belonged to Uncle
Tom, appealed no more to her.
In the meantime, Martha had very
definite ideas of her own as to what a
house should be. It was to be sunny
and livable. Instead of heavy funeral
chairs and impossible stiff divans, IL
must possess furniture that was rest
full and pleasant, windows that were
bright and that let in the air and SUM-
light. a library that was intimate and
expressive of the personality of the
one who used it-books that one read
and that others might enjoy--in short
just exactly what the old Barrow IL
brary was not
Martha donned her hat and cloak
and, telling the old servant she would
not be home for dinner, started out
II o7 drarr r. ~
the town, then thru field and Their
down country lane, thru an orchard
and finally to a little woody retreat
in the middle of which was a sunny
! clearing and a tiny house that might
almost have been mistaken for e
child's playhouse. In fact, it was g
two-room cottage-the secret retreat
| of Martha At a touch of her key the
door yielded and she entered.
Once inside this house, Martha's en-
tire manner changed Downing a
+ bright colored smock in place of her
coat and hat, she began to set tbs
small place to rights, to built a cosy
open fire and to arrange the late
| chrysanthemums she had gathered
, from the old-fashioned garden al
. home. Here Martha spent most OF
!, her days Her intimate friends knew
: of the retreat and were bound to a
certain sort of secrecy, tho most &.
them openly discussed the little house
among themselves The chief object
of this secrecy was to prevent news
of it from getting back to Tom.
II wouldn't for the world hurt his
Z feelings she told them. Tom and
have such absolutely opposite tastes
81 He lust doteS on the old house. with
its heavy, dreary rooms. 1 would nc
l more suggest doing them over than
would having some of those heavy
5 vines and trees cut out that make the
t place so frightfully dark and sunless
r So 1 have built this place here to be
my own home Here. alone, I an