The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1916-06-13
The Euening Story
A Letter From Rome.
(By Susan e. Clagett. }

its suggestion of shabbiness. He
kmerely thought there had been few
changes since last he had been in the
room and he delighted in the blazing
fire that lighted it to its furthest cor
Iner
He had been in the country a week
and had. as yet, found no opportunity
| for the question he had come to ask.
| AS he waited for her he wondered
why. She had met him with the
greatest friendliness; they had driven
together. walked together; had gone
| in the early morning after the tur-
keys that had slipped away and had
driven them back to their enclosure.
She had told him, in a matter of fact
way, that her income was from her
| poultry. Not a large income" she
| had said, but make a fair living
He had tried to ask her then. but
she did not seem to take in his mean
ing. 1t had been the same that after
noon. He had asked her if she would
like to go West. She had thrown
back her head and laughed heartily.
"Of course. I am always dreaming
of travel and some day, perhaps. Who
was it said all things come to him
who waits q -
He was about to tell her she need
not wait when callers interrupted.
But he was determined to know to-
night where he stood. The uncertain
ty was telling on him. He was no
| longer a young man and grew irrita-
BILE and impatient at delays that were
| not necessary Eleanor knew perfect
! 1y well why he had come, what he
wanted. He had always credited her
with unusual insight into his mo-
tives, and she, like himself. had pass
ed the age for dallying. Was it pos
sible she had changed? He squared
| his shoulder and threw back his head.
| No. That was out of the question.
Their correspondence had faltered oc-
| casionally, but had always been re-
sumed, even after the two or three
amazing letters he had received from
her several years before. At that time
i the interval had been longer.
| He nut his hand in his pocket and
drew out a well-worn letter and was
reading it as she came into the room.
! She recognized her own Handwriting
| the moment she stood beside him, but
did not refer to it she drew for
ward a deep, oldfashioned chair and
seated herself.
Slowly he folded the sheet. put it
in it's envelope and returned it to his
pocket.
THAT was the first" he said. st
received it in Athens. The others
| reached me while 1 was in Cairo.
| There were four in all and they about
spoiled my trip. They were remark
| able letters, Eleanor, remarkable from
| the fact that they were written by so
| cold woman as you. 1 have read
them every day and every day have
wondered at the imbecile reply sent
| you from Rome.
| 81 wonder still. I was fully aware
it was your influence that had urged
me on to accomplishment I have
succeeded beyond my utmost ambi-
| ton and have you to thank for slim
| Knowing how constantly 1 have acted
upon your suggestions, how 1 have
| pushed aside obstacles, overcome al
most unsurmountable difficulties
simply because you expected it OF me-
have never understood why 1 acted
as 1 did. Whatever the reason, 1
| have long regretted that letter and 1
hope you will believe me when I say
it is my dearest hope that you will
| consent to be my wife,
She did not answer at once and her
| reply was not direct when it came.
| 81 would like to tell you a story
| Judge Norton" she said. Just an or
binary story differing little in detail
from many others. but it is from the
| viewpoint of woman and in that it
| may be interesting.
"It commenced a good many years
ago. this story of a man and a wo-
man. it ran its way through friendship
and ended, as is usual in such cases,
with one of them becoming some
thing more than a friend The man
it was. When he was serious, she
laughed. Not in ridicule, but because
| although she cared in a way, it was
not enough to make marriage desir-
able. The man went away, but their
correspondence did not take the place
of his companionship and each time
he returned she felt she had grown
a little nearer to him, but could not
bring herself to let him see what she
knew he wished to know. although he
said little Impulsive as a girl, as a
to hide her deeper feelings, and she
was unable to give then, expression.
To all appearances she was cold.
! THE odd part of the story, your
honor, is, the yoGng woman never
thought the man might change This
was not vanity. 1t was her under
standing of a character that was not
likely to veer from a certain estab-
lished trend of mind and thought.
'tAt first she was sorry this was so,
but her home life, ALWAYS difficult,
i now became intolerable, she turned
to him, never doubling an immediate
response. Made desperate by condi-
tons she could not bear, she asked
him to come to her
'It was a heart letter. but it brought
no reply. Many weeks later, she re-
/ ceived two or three lines They told
her he was on his way East There
was no reference to what she had
4 written. Just those two or three lines
stating a bold fact If she had been
in her normal state of mind, your
| honor, she would have realized some
thing was wrong. She did wonder a
i little, but, knowing him to be reserved.
thought he preferred to talk with her
rather than to write. But it hurt
''She watched for him, but the days
passed without further word Then-a
line came to her from his old home
/ He had passed her by, the first time
in all the years of their friendship
and she was in trouble. Yet so du1led
was she by wretchedness that even
1 then she did not doubt him. Though