Bridgeton pioneer., 1916-03-16
The Heroine
Of My Story
By ESTHER VANDEVEER

out through the open window.
At window opposite Il woman per-
haps midway between twenty-five and
thirty sat at Il typewriter writing let
ters from stenographic notes. She was
dressed in mourning.
n sign of widowhood furnished food
for a story that l was weaving, with
her for the heroine. She was refined
looking and comely. Quite likely her
husband had left her in poverty, and
she was eking out miserable exist
ence by hammering a typewriter from
morning till night. l wondered if the
sleek looking man | saw in an ad-
joining room, who seemed to be the
manager, had a wife and if he would
not fall in love with the widow and
make her comfortable. But when he
arose from his desk and stood with
his hands in his pockets looking out
through the window l changed the
direction of my romance and hoped
If he did fall in love with the widow
she would refuse him, because | did
not like the expression on his face.
There was something malignant in it.
My story seems to be coming out as
| first planned it. While l was dream
ing this afternoon, instead of attending
to business, as l should have done, the
man in the next room to the widow
tapped bell. The young widow arose
and, taking up her stenographic i'm
plements. disappeared to reappear in
his room. Taking a seat beside him,
she took down several different dicta-
tions. Then when she was about to
leave he said something to her that
caused her to resume her seat.
From his averted gaze and the ex-
preston on the mans face knew that
he was making love to her. And | also
knew from something. l knew not
what-but any woman will under
stand what 1 mean-that there was no
response to what he was saying When
he ceased to speak she arose and he
took her hand, but she gently drew it
away and, without word, left the
room. At her own window she faced
me just long enough for me to see that
she was not pleased.
l have now been watching the widow
for a week, and it is evident that she
can marry any of the men connected
with the Office she chooses, for they
all seem to be in love with her. don't
blame them, for if l were a man, and
not miserably poor, as 1 am. would
march straight over to the office where
she works and propose to her myself
What troubles me is that she won't
do what l want her to do. | have
heard from authors that their charac-
ters are at times very obstinate, and
now l find case in point. There is
man who l think would make her a
good husband. He comes in to the Of
flee evidently on business and never
fails to get few words with her. She
treats him with great consideration.
but l can see from the expression of
his face-he always faces the window
when he talks TO her-that her replies
to what he says are disappointing.
ThlS morning there was a scene be-
tween the manager and the widow. He
said something to her that sent her out
of his room. He followed her to her
desk. where she was putting on her
wraps, and he doubtless apologized, for
she took off her hat, which she had put
on, and was evidently pacifed.
1t is my opinion that the reason the
widow won't marry any of her suitors
is that her heart is buried in grave.
l wish she would marry my favorite,
but she evidently gives him no en-
couragement. He stood in one of the
windows facing me this morning. and
/ so longed to give him encouragement
to persevere that looked it, and I'm
afraid | smiled.
l am very much dspleased with my
self. The widows suitor at whom |
smiled encouragement came into the
office this morning, and I'm sure he
made pretense of business in order
to see me. The manager brought him
up to me and introduced him, saying
to me that he had recommended me to
the man as one who would do some
work for him. The stranger was very
polite and has winning way.
l shall never make a novelist, that's
certain. My story of the widow turned
out entirely different from what | in
tended. 1t was all her fault. The
man wanted her to marry she would
not have. and what do you think? /
had to console him by marrying him
myself. 1t seems that l was entirely
mistaken in my assumptions with re-
gard to him. He was a cousin of hers.
though more like brother. He says
that he one day caught sight of me at
my window and after that used to
come to see his cousin in order to see
me. tell him / can't swallow that.
But the widow. Fate was doing
things without my knowledge. One
morning man in the uniform of an
officer of merchant marine burst into