The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1917-01-26

will come. DR.. Maynard" and ad-
ded, land | think you are the very
kindest man l know" For you
see he had offered me his home,
his protection, and his love. he
said, for all my life.
There was something awfully
silent and ominous about the gen
tie still way he turned the ma
chine around and started for
home. 1t was entirely different
from what l had dreamed might
take place. There was nothing
thrilling about it. I sat like a
stone image beside DR.. Maynard.
couldn't speak.
at took you an awfully long
while to grow up" he said at last,
half laughing. 1--WE actually
grown gray waiting for you. Alec
said to me the first time, Wait
till she's nineteen and then,
Good heavens, Will, she's moth
ing but a child yet. Wait till
she's twenty and so on, and SO
on. Awful hindrance, because for
the last two years I've been want
ing to do some important research
work in Germany. But | couldn't
leave you to the wolves. How did
/ know but that some cookbook
ing young chap would come along
and snatch you up? But now,
We'll go to Germany together,
Lucy" he said.
| stole into the house that night
very quietly, crept up to my room
and closed the door without
sound. / wanted to be alone. l
was suddenly filled with kind of
panic-stricken wonder, for there
had been actual tears in DR.. May
nard's eyes when he took my hand
at the door q hadn't known how
to say good night to him) trem-
BILE in his voice that awed and
frightened me.
| never shall forget that night.
l don't believe l slept at all.
don't know what time it was when
got up and, lighting my candle,
and held it close to the cold, glass
covered picture OF my mother that
hung over my bed. Why did she
have to die so long ago? What
would she say-she who would
have been my best friend? l didn't
know. / hadn't been old enough
to remember even her smile.
Shouldn't a girl be glad on the
night OF her betrothal? Shouldn't
there be ardent looks, passionate
words. tender caresses for her to
live through again in thought?
Shouldn't she long for the sight
of the man whom she had prom
Used to marry? what shall l do,
Father" said out loud. What
shall l do?" But only my clock
answered me with its steady un-
Ineligible tick. No one could
help me-no one in the wide
world.
So that is why, near morning, I
got up again, went to my desk,
opened a little secret drawer, and
took out a picture. The picture
was the one l had brought in New
York after I had seen Robert
Dwinnell at the theater in the aft
ernoon.
OF course it is silly and very
absurd for girl of my years to
treasure a picture of an actor in a
secret drawer in her desk. | can't
help it, That picture had been my
ideal for almost five years now.
1t wasn't Robert Dwinnell him
self | admired. 1t was simply the
jolly look in his eyes and the way
he had remembered it SO we'll
of striding across the stage, sit
ting carelessly on the edge of a
table and swinging one foot. 1t
had Just about torn the heart out
of me to watch that man make
love.
gazed for a whole half-minute
at Robert Dwinnell's picture. II
forgot all my problems for a little
while. Call it absurd if you want
to, but when l raised my eyes at
last and rose. clear as the day that
was breaking. bright as new
born vision, knew knew II
couldn't marry DR.. Maynard. 1T
was just as IL Robert Dwinnell had
gotten up from out of that pic
ture, walked over to me, taken my
hand and said. "You must wait
for some one like me-"
or course, of course, l couldn't
marry DR.. Maynard. and 1 finally
wrote him this note
'Dear DIR. Maynard: The
refugee has thought 1t all over
very carefully and has decid-
ed to gather the pieces of her
house together and rebuild on
the same spot, like San Fran.
CISCO"
Then I added, dropping all play
and with something | knew to be
pain:
~ can't do it, DIR. Maynard,
I've tried and 1 can't. But
you'll always be the very
kindest man I know.
"LUCY CHENERY VARS"
So that is how il happened that