Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1916-10-20
ANGELA'S
HERO
He Turned Out to Be What
She Wanted
By CLARISSA MACKIE


Sunderland was one of those places
that are very nice for young persons
to live In until the time comes for the
boys to choose careers and the girls
to get married or-in these days of wo-
reers too. There was one period when
half a dozen or more youngsters form.
ed a set that was voted the most at
tractive the town had ever contained.
Two decades passed after the set had
been all together at Sunderland when
Angela Thornton visited her old friend
the greetings the two friends sat to-
gether over their work talking of old
times. Some of those who had been
happy together had gone to their long
home. Others had been lost to their
old associates. Presently Mrs. Blake
said:
angela, I wonder If you realize that
you are the only n of our old set who
has never married." She smiled af-
fectionately at Angela Thornton.
YES" said Angela calmly, 81 do real
lie it, Edna. l suppose the rest Of you,
wives and mothers all, wonder why I
am so contented."
Tel me the secret, dear, and I'll
not breathe 1t to another SOUL" coaxed
Mrs. Blake.
Angela's charming face flushed, and
she looked only half of her forty years.
Her hair was SO fair and golden, I'M
touched by time, and her skin so fresh
and unlined and her sweetness SO un-
married by long years of sorrow and
loss of loved mes hat her friends de-
clared she had discovered the secret of
perennial youth.
"There was Alexander Finlay,s be-
gan Edna Blake mischievously, "the
first of a long line of suitors. Why,
Angela, why did you refuse them ALP"
Because" said Angela quite simply,
II was waiting for a hero, a real hero,
to arrive. Edna, ! am a hero worship
er. All my life | have longed for some
romantic adventure, thirsted for a low
er who would bravely ride up to our
gate and carry me off o. q brave black
horse. l know you are shocked" she
ended with a whimsical smile.
Mrs. Blake's dark face was aglow
with amusement and some inward ex-
element.
$50 you have been waiting for a
hero, you romantic gooseF" she said at
last. tIn this twentieth century there
are no bold lovers who carry their
sweethearts off on brave black horses.
They usually elope by motorcar. And
Alexander Finlay is still unmarried,
and they say he has six motorcars."
"Not If he had sixteen motorcars!"
declared Angela; then, with an effort
to turn the conversation to q less per-
sonal topic, she went on, "How is
Nathan getting on with his invention?"
wonderfully, If one may judge by
his complete absorption in his work."
returned Nathan's sister ruefully.
Actually, Angela, he hasn't poled his
nose outside of that workshop for three
weeks except to take a short walk
around the fields. He sleeps there.
and I have his meals sent out to him.
He says he doesn't dare leave the shop
a moment. / asked him why he built
it In the center of the ten acre field,
and he said"-Mrs. Blake %giggled-
1T was going to be a fine season for
turkeys"
1.-The ideal" gasped Angela. you
don't suppose he Is raising turkeys
and is going to corner the turkey mar
ket?'
"It's something with wings any
way" admitted Mrs. Blake. 81 heard
him talking to Mr.. Fellowes about It."
what does Mr.. Blake think about
it?"
"Oh, Jim? He declares Nathan Is
building an aeroplane; said he saw
one lowering over the field one night
last week. But l tell him it's all non
sense Nathan isn't the sort Of man
to invent an aeroplane or anything
half so romantic. You know, Angela,
what a plodding, practical sort of boy
my brother was. Well, he has grown
up to be the most matter of fact man
Ill SOme IeSpeClS. ne hight luNtuL IL
new sort of washing machine or some
household necessity, but an aeroplaue-
never!'
That evening Mrs. Blake repeated
the conversation to her highly edited
husband, and that gentleman, strolling
out to the ten acre field to enjoy an
after dinner smoke with his brother
in-law, retold the story to Nathan.
Nathan listened, his dark head bent
attentively. When he lifted it at last
his expression was noncommittal. The
afternoon sun shining on the lenses of
his s%pectaeles concealed his gray eyes
from Jim's quizzical glance.
Jim Blake was rather disappointed
at Nathan's silence. He had always
suspected Nathan of having a tender
moss for AnOolo Th0rpfop ond OoxU