The Kansas City sun. (Kansas City, Mo.) 1908-1924, 1918-02-09

Copyright, 1917, by the Mcclure Newspa-
per Sy~ndicate.)
The girl was very young and pretty,
but she looked tired. John Arnold, sit
ting opposite her in the street car, no.
ticed her closed eyes and general air
of fatigue. She was eighteen or nine
teen years old, he decided, or perhaps
twenty. She had a lovely oval face,
framed with waves of bright hair, and
she looked like a lady in spite of her
rather shabby, inexpensive clothes.
There was something very attractive
about her.
John did not realize that he was
staring at the girl until she opened her
eyes. She opened them suddenly, as
If she had felt his gaze through her
closed lids. And she looked directly
at him. 1t was a very impersonal
look, casual and a little questioning,
perhaps, yet it did a very curious thing
to John Arnold. 1t made him feel very
young, or very happy, or very glad of
something; he could not analyze the
feeling exactly, but at least it was diff
ferent from anything he had ever ex-
perienced before. Perhaps it was be-
cause the girls eyes were so luminous
a gray, and so. deeply fringed with
black. They were very unusual eyes.
They closed again, however, almost at
once. 1t was as though she had given
him a glimpse of something too pre-
cious to be wasted. The car jolted on
and the girl still sat with her curling
lashes resting on her pale cheek. She
was evidently very tired.
"A schoolgirl, perhaps, or else she is
taking a course in a business college,"
John decided, noting her pile of books.
'They work hard, too, those girls. She
looks as If she needed country air and
a good long rest"
The car emptied itself, street by
street, until there were few people left
besides John and the girl of the curl
ing laShes. AS a matter of fact John
had passed his street. but for some
reason he had forgotten to get off. The
tired-looking girl still sat with her eyes
closed, resting. But at length she
reused herself with a start and got
off hurriedly at n noisy street lined
with high apartments. John could see
her Fastening along in the chill dusk,
the collar of her thin coat held high
about her throat.
1t was not until they had gone on
some distance that he noticed the
book. 1t lay directly at his feet, q
cloth covered Record such as people
use in offices. 1t was one of those
books the girl had carried. John had
particularly noticed its businesslike
appearance. He picked it up c~uriously,
and opened to the front page. A school
notebook, no doubt, or office accounts.
Perhaps it might contain the girls adj
dress, so that he could return it.
The first page, however, dispelled
this theory. Across it was printed, in
a careful hand:
Dorothy May Douglas. Her Diary"
OF course John Arnold should not
have read the diary, yet its neat pages
looked so allurlng, and, after ALL he
thought, it might contain the address.
She would want it returned; people
do not like to lose such precious things
as diaries. So that evening after din
ner John settled down in his comfort
able bachelor living room and guiltily
scanned the pages of the little book.
"Monday-A hard day at the office.
Miss Coleman is so difficult to please,
When : get to he head of an Office
force I shall try to make them like me.
I'll be nice to girls that have head.
aches, and I'll never, never speak SO
sharply that l make them want TO cry
Oh, well, 1 hope I'll never be head OF
an office. I'd rather have a cottage
with white muslin curtains and red ge.
raniums in the window and keep a cat
"Tuesday-Stupid day at the Office
But l saw the loveliest silk dress in @
store window as 1 was coming home
1t was just exactly what 1 woult
choose, blue with gold embroidery. II
I were Cinderella I'd write to my fairy
godmother and tell her to bring me
dress just like that for the ball. Per
haps l am a sort of Cinderella, but
there isn't any fairy godmother or any
prince.
"Wednesday-It was dreadfully colo
In the office today. Miss Coleman likes
the cold. And now there isn't enough
heat in my ROOF tonight, either.
wish l were Cinderella; at least sht
had a fire to sit by"
In spite of the warnings of his con
science as a gentleman, John SKINNED
other pages, all pathetic with sordiC
details of work, wistful with girlisl
longings.
"Tm invited to a party" read tn,
very last page of all. "a really trul,
party. 1t isn't a ball like Cinderella's
and no prince has invited me, but 4
will be a very grand affair. It's a
Mrs. Cotton Curtis house, a dance sh,
is giving for her daughter. 1 dom
know why she invited me. She ant