The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1918-03-01
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"a MATTER OF FAMILY
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BY HiLDA MORRIS. @
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1918, by the Mcclure Newspa-
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per Syndicate)
Anita had been in Carterville for
lust two months, two long, lonely
months during which she grew to nate
every dusty street of the shabby little
town. 1t was not all shabby, OF course.
There were few square white houses
with green blinds.
Anita taught English in the Carter
Vile high school and as teacher" she
enjoyed q sort Of social eminence.
The Culture club had taken her in,
and the minister's wife asked her TO
tea, but the young people, the girls her
own age who should have been her
COMPANIONS, looked at her askance.
OF course, none Of these CarterVlile
bows and girls would be possible
friends for her, anyway. She told her-
self this a little vehemently, perhaps,
to still the lonely Juggling at her heart.
At the end Of two months, however
things began to be different. There
was a young man who boarded at the
Palace hotel, a nice-looking young
man with brown eyes and the sort OF
nose one imagines to be aristocratic.
Anita watched him sometimes In the
dining room and sometimes she lis
tened to his hearty voice when he was
in the hotel Office, talking with other
men.
sWhat a pity" she thought, "that a
man who looks like that should be
common, after all. He talks to Jim
1r.o n oil his
life, and he uses so much slang!
Just what the stranger did in Car
teryille. Anita was not sure. His name
she could not help hearing that
was Davis, Carlton Davis.
When there is only one young man
about; when he is very good looking;
when he sits at a table near you in
the hotel dining room every morning
and evening, when you are girl, and
lonesome, it Is hard to be bound by the
traditions of the proudest of families.
Once. when she felt that he was look
ing after her as she left the room, she
was blinded by sort of hateful self
consciousness that made her trip,
awkwardly, and fall. In an instant he
was on his feet, helping her up.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
"Not at all, thank you"
She was aware that her tone was
cold, inhospitable. He bowed gravely
and returned to his seat near the win
dow.
After that Anita tried to avoid Carl
ton Davis. She refused to admit to
herself that this man was the reason
for her early breakfasts, and late din
ners, yet deep in her heart she knew
that she could not bear to sit there,
in silence, so near to him.
One evening when she could bear
the strain of depressed spirits no long
err without action of some sort, Anita
set out for q brisk walk. 1t was just
supper time for Carterville; lights
shone from the unshaded windows, and
she could see family groups about the
tables.
The girl scarcely noticed where she
was walking, the rough, unpaved
streets Of the little town were no bet
ter than the country roads, and Anita
realized, with sudden start, that she
had walked far beyond the last house.
Tears overwhelmed her suddenly. Is
1t not, to youth, q genuine grief to be
denied the pleasures Of youth, the SIM
pie joys of friendly living? Moreover,
there was something else that made
Anita weep, something that tugged at
her heart like wild longing, some
thing she was powerless to stife or
control.
Suddenly as she sat there by the
roadside, sobbing, q man approached.
She could see him clearly. She shrank
back against q tree for shelter.
But as she did so a twig snapped
under her feet, and she stumbled, with
a soft little cry. The man stopped
short.
"Who's there?" he called sharply.
1t was very strange, but all fear left
Anita the very moment she heard his
voice. OF course, she would be safe
with him. He was a stranger to her,
yet she was safe, she knew.
s'It's I, Anita North" she called back,
and her voice trembled bit.
'Miss North-Anita !" he exclaimed.
"What are you doing here alone?" He
had taken her arm and helped her out
to the road.
"Poor little girl" he said. "Could
you tell me about it?"
She shook her head.
"Poor little grill" he said at last.
IT wonder If you are-lonesome"
She nodded In the dark, and he came
a step nearer.
$50 am l." he said slowly. 'Ione-
some for you"
After that they walked back to town
slowly, arm in arm. They passed light
ed windows, where happy family
groups were gathered about the sup
per tables, but neither Of them no
ticed. Or If Anita did so, it was but
to reflect that never, never again need
she envy them, never, never again
would she be lonesome.