The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1917-08-25
EVENING STORY
Forgotten.

The girl beside him drew a deep
breath.
TIL answer it now" she replied. st
can't come"
Wont you please be sensible. Mad
eline?" he pleaded "You know 1 |
want you to come. don't -ou?"
Yes. I think you do-now."
Then why won't you? 20
Because I think that two weeks |
from now you'n be sorry you asked |
me-"
That's nonsense. You know it is"
Madeline Gilman shook her head.
1T isn't nonsense. Let's look at this
came up here in the mountains to
rest from too many dances. You
didn't expect to find anybody but a
lot of farmers, and when you discov-
cred me here, the simple fact that
I'm not altogether farmer was such
surprise that you haven't quite got
| ten over it. Compared to the ordin
airy run of farm girls, perhaps l am
| something of relief, but as soon as
you get back home and see the girls
you're accustomed to, you'll forget all
about me-"
But I won't, and I'm proving it to
you by asking you to Ridgefield. It's
perfectly all right; your mother can
come as chaperon, and you both can
stay at my sister s.
| But 1 don't dance"
THAT doesn't make any difference;
we can sit out"
! Madeline smiled wisely.
| 1T will. make all the difference in
| the world" she answered. After the
second or third dance, you'd curse the
| folly which urged you to ask me-
Then you won't come p
| 81 guess not. Hal. I'm all right up
here. where an assembly ball is
thing unknown; but down in Ridge
field, with its country club and after
noon teas, I'd be out of place. You'll
like me better if I don't go to the as
Sembly."
For a moment, Hal Shepard was 81
lent. 1t occurred to him that pos
sibly the girl beside him was right.
Coming to the little mountain village
a month ago. he had been pleasantly
surprised to find her. They had been
together almost continually, and the
freshness of her viewpoint, her lack
of affectation, had appealed to him
no less than the blue of her eyes and
the rose tint of her cheeks. The Gil
mans had lived in Mountviiie for
. three generations; comfortably fixed.
they had reaped the harvest season
after season. and had pursued the
, even tenor of their ways Children
had been born. had grown up and
married; but always to people of
their own kind. Thoroughbreds they
were. to be sureS but not the kind OF
: thoroughbreds Hal had known.
| d
of Madeline. more so than he was
willing to admit But before COM
hitting himself he had wanted to see
her in another environment, beside
the girls he had grown up with. And
, it occurred to him suddenly that per-
| haps she wouldn't quite measure uI
| to the standard in Ridgefield. Rather
ashamed at the thought, he arose tc
| his feet.
! I'm sorry you won't come,' he
said. II was hoping that you'd change
your mind the last minute"
3 NO." she answered. I've thoughi
it all OUT
DO you mind singing just once
before I leave for homer"
: "Of course not
: They made their way together t.
a the cosy house on the top of the hill
After she had seated herself at the
|. piano Madeline looked up inquiring
, ly.
What shall sing?" she asked.
1 Forgotten"
\ Hal thrilled just bit as the word.
S of what they had designated theil
q song broke softly from the girls lips.
e IF counting each moment of longing
s Till the. time when 1 see you again.
II this be forgetting, you're right. dear.
4 And / have forgotten you them.
e When the last notes died away. Ha
a looked directly at the girl beside him
p I'll never forget you.'' he sai'
e rather huskily.
f For the next two weeks it seemed
p as if he couldn't forget her for a sin
o gle minute. Ridgefield appeared t.
II have lost it's charm. The Friday nigh
e dances at the Country club were soul
less affairs. Even the presence Of
/, country-famed orchestra failed t
u arouse his enthusiasm. The girl
: whom he had once considerd 900,
& sports failed to amuse him. Full
t intending to ask one of them to &C
o company him to the assembly hall, h
: could not decide which of the man
S. to invite There was only sne thin
d which interested him, and that wa
r the letter which came twice a weel
l. from Mountville.
IS He formed the habit of dropping
d over to his married sisters of an even
is ing and playing the victrola. On hi
e very first visit, he discovered the rec
If ord Forgotten" 1t brought back {
); him with startling vividness the las
a few minutes he had spent with Made
% line; the rich fullness of her voice, tn
stray wisp of her chestnut hair, tn
light in her eyes when she said good
by. He realized suddenly that Made
line meant more to him than The othe
girls in the world put together.
The night before the assembly II
took supper with his sister, VIII
preached the subject of the dance.
DO you know that Cynthia Thomp
son hasn't been invited? ?" she asked.
How is that?'
II couldn't say: it just happene
re that way Maybe she'd go with yo
"a if you should ask her"
Maybe she would" Hal manifest
ed but little enthusiasm, but his siste
IN anxious to do good turn to Cynthis
ventured a suggestion.
why don't you call her up?" sh
asked.
For a moment Hal hesitated. II
IS, realized that he was doing nobody 2n
r. good by mop1ng around-that
er would nroba tIy be a wise thing to in
vite Cynthia. He arose from the tabl
o. doubtfully.
Ill Maybe 1 WILL" he said. Cynthia
p a good sport, and she'll unders'an
r. why I'm so late"
ne He went to the telephone and caile
the Thompson home. But he lin