The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1916-04-06
The Euening Story
Bill Pogue's Mother.
(By Alicia Ram. }

1 have dreaded so to tell you-the
secret is that 1 am not Margaret Bar
chester. l am just Orphan Maggie.
The girl sat very erect among the
cushions of the window seat in the
sun parIor of Eagles Nest, the newly
built abode of Mr.. Barchester, head
of the gigantis business corporation of
which Bill Pogue was proud to be
considered one of the promising
younger members. There was not a
CULVER on her pretty face or trem-
BILE in her voice. But beneath this
apparent composure her heart beat
rapidly and her cheeks, burning
crimson, told Bill Pogue, sitting before
her, what the confession had cost her.
That's why I didn't want to say
that 7 would marry you; because you
couldn't marry me, of course, when
you knew that l was just an orphan
who had been brought up by the sis
tiers with a hundred or so other or
phans all in ginEham pinafores. That
was till l was seven years old. They
called me Margaret and made out pa
pers that gave me the name of Bar
chester. But that doesn't make me
truly their child, does it? 1t doesn't
make me any less the poor little or
chan in the Bingham pinafore."
The girls eyes were bright with ex-
citement and she seemed not to heed
the attempted protestations of the
young man before her. Two or three
times he had tried to interrupt, but
Margaret continued her painful task.
bill. please don't hate me for being
ashamed of it, for it wasn't quite that.
But Mr.. and Mrs. Dorchester have
been so good to me, and they made me
promise never to tell any one that L
was not their truly really daughter.
They wanted to forget the days with
the sisters when I used to sleep in a
dormitory with fifty other little girls
all tucked away to bed in exactly the
safhe kind of little iron cots, And
then when you began to come to see
me and when you told me that you
wanted me to marry you L knew that
Daddy Barchester wanted me to like
YOU For he is very proud of you,
Bill, and always calls you his boy. L
know he believes that you will some
day be president of the company.
some day after he has got quite old
and has retired.
ooh, 1 have tried so hard to tell
you, Bill. but I just couldn't. Then
when you told me that you were going
to take me to see your family L knew
1 would have to tell you L couldn
deceive you any longer. Bill, your
mother would hate me if she thought
L had made you think l was really
and truly Mr.. Barchester's daughter
Bill, can't you see it now? Look at me
and see that 1 don't look like the
Barchesters. And you can tell by my
voice, too. You know they say that
little orphan girls never get over that
monotonous way of talking as long
as they live. 1t comes of living with
so many other children and always
having sisters to take care of you in
stead of real mothers"
For the first time, Margaret paused
in her talk, but Bill forgot all the
comforting and reassuring things he
had intended to say.
4 am sure" he said, that your
voice is the dearest voice in the world
1t is so different from other voices.
Yours is soft and low and musical.
Margaret, 1 like it best that way"
But you think I ought to have told
YOU, don't you? You don't hate me for
not having told you sooner, do you,
Bill?"
She held out two imploring hands
and, now that her little speech was
over her eyes We're filled with the
tears that she had been keeping back
so bravely.
But Bill did not yield to the tempta-
ton to comfort her. He rose from his
chair and paced back and forth in
the room, looking beyond the pretty
girl to the stretches of green lawn in
the garden
I'm glad you have told me, Mar
garet. OF course, it was the only
her entreating eyes. I'm glad. too. to
know your reason for not giving me
your answer" He paused again as If
thinking deeply and then turned and
faced the GIRL watch in hand. His
voice was entirely changed when he
said, We'll, let's start now for that
long omised visit to my old home.
It's in the other end of town. 1 sup
pose the proper caper would have
been to bring my mother to call on
you. But she's not so young as she
once was, Margaret. and it would have
been a long trip for her"
Once or twice as Bills car bore them
swiftly onward, Margaret tried to get
back to the question uppermost in her
mind. Why didn't he tell her that the
fact of her humble origin made no
difference to him? Secretly she had
been almost confident that he would
love her none the less because of this
confession. But the confession had
been so hard and she was so in need
of the reassurances and comfort that
did not come
They sped on through the suburban
country that lay between Eagles Nest
and the crowded city. Then they
moved less rapidly through the out
skirts of the city, dropped down
through the crowded streets and on
beyond to the older section, where
sagging pavements and ill-kept green
squares proclaimed the neighborhood
to have outlived a once-fashionabl BILE
era
Once paaatial mansions were now
shared by a dozen families and many
a bay window of once fine residence