The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1917-04-14
EVENING STORY
A Finger of Promise.
(By Susan e. CIagett.


problems threatening the life she had
carefully regulated for twelve years
or more Her unseeing eyes rested
upon an ethereal thing arising from
out of the surrounding darkness, soft
iy white and pointing upward as II
in promise-a beacon of hope after
years of silent endurance, had she
but known it.
She had stopped in Washington on
her way to New>York instead of going
there after the New York opera sea-
son, as was her custom. What pos
sessed her to alter her usual schedule
she could not have told, and az she
sat by the window in the darkness or
her room she wondered If she had
been Influenced by the chance remark
she had overheard as she changed
tional woman and resented having
her world turned topsy-turvy- But
that was what had happened. Her
emotions had gained the upper hand,
and whichever way she looked she
was confronted by memories that left
her shaken. She had been aroused
| by the casual mention of name,
buried with other memories when
she had broken her engagement many
years before.
Her father had looked upon it as
boy and girl affair that would be for
gotten, and thankfully forgotten, after
travel, the development of her musical
talent, and, later, the social life to
which she was entitled, would play so
large a part in her young life that for
some time to come there would be no
room for other interests. He should
have judged her differently. She was
one of those women who cannot for
get, but who bring their force of Will
to bear against individual happiness
when that happiness means the mis-
Of "a
was the one spot of brightness in her
widowed fathers life. He could not
go with her to her prospective home
in the north of Ireland, neither could
the man she loved give up his inter
ests to come to her. There was but
one choice, and shsN made it.
Judge Tomilson had been dead five
years the autumn Louise had come to
Washington, and as she sat, with her
unseeing eyes centered upon that fin
ger of light far off in the heavens. her
mind was slowly going over the few
words that had passed between her
self and the man who still had the
power to arouse emotions she had
thought were past, but that now held
her in grip, the intensity of which
she resented.
They had met that evening at din
ner. She was late. Moving swiftly
across the reception hall to greet her
hostess the lace of her gown caught in
the signet ring of man who moved
aside for her to pass Impatient at
the detention, she spoke quickly as he
| endeavored to untwist the delicate
| threads.
. TT does not matter. Break them,
| please
Il would rather you would unfasten
1T at your leisure" he said, and, slip
ping the ring from her finger, he Of
| fered it to her.
Annoyed by the incident, but I'M
/ able to wait longer, she pushed the
ring within her glove and moved away
without a glance into the face of the
man beside her.
He was seated, next to her at the
| table, by one of those fateful happen
ings that come about in the most nat
ural way. 1t was then that she look
| ed at him, and from him to the ring
she held in her hand, a sapphire set
! in diamonds with a crest and motto
familiar to her.
Am I so changed that you do not
! recognize me. Louise?" he asked, but
before she answered his dinner part
| ner claimed his attention. 1t was
some time before he again turned to
her, then only for a moment.
! Will you drive with me tomorrow d?
Keep the ring until then. You cannot
give it to me now without attracting
attention.
Il did not recognize your voice,
Lawrence. There is a different note in
it, otherwise you are unchanged, ex-
cept for that scar across your face. I
heard you had been wounded in
Africa"
1.-THE Beers about did for me- I
was hoping they would make clean
job of it, but they didn't, and about
the worst time l have spent in my
life was getting well in the hospital
in johannesburg. Your letter had
reached me just before going into ac-
ton, if action you could call the one
sided affair. Their sharpshooters
picked US off one by one. But this is
not a subject for dinner talk. Will
you drive tomorrow
cat g." she said. She did not again
have opportunity to speak to him.
Now in the dark all these things
came back to her, and the wavering
finger of light still pointed hopefully
upward.
The following afternoon there was
little talk between them until they
reached the open country. Then he
| turned to her.
1T is twelve years since I received
that letter, Louise he said, going
back to their talk of the evening be-
fore. 81 had not heard from you for
weeks and L was homesick for a line.
We moved at daybreak and the
chances were against any of us return
ing, for every kopje held a sharp
shooter L could not read it at once,
but the very feel of it in my pocket
gave me comfort. Then when I was at
last alone 1 could not sense the con-
tents. 1 had been so sure of you, and
there in black and white were words
that at last burned into my conscious
ness. Your reason was inadequate.
Your father needed you. Some time
you would give me a full explanation.
I do not like to think of that time:
but afterward, asJI lay in that
Johannesburg hospital, I tried to rea-
son it out, but could not All thru
those endless days your eyes looked
at me steadfastly, giving the lie to that
letter They seemed to say, Wait,
only wait 1 wrote to you, but my
letters were returned from your dead
letter office; yet as the years passed
I still waited.
a.. -, T ,,a+ IN old finland xubo