The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1918-08-17
AND IT HAPpENEDI
BY HELEN r. RYAN.
Copyright. 1918. by the Mcclure Newspa-
per Syndicate.)


youthful, exuberant, rose-colored ro-
mance-and 1t was most disconcert-
ing. There was Virginia, quite the
life and fun of the place (when the
presidents back was turneD, leaving
us to join her young husband, who
had just been given commission
and was stationed somewhere on the
coast.
Then there was Blanche Hodgkins,
our capable and always dependable
head bookkeeper, who was soon to
follow Virginla's bridal footsteps. We
had some wonderful lunch hours to-
gether, Blanche and i.
Ned Sullivan had passed in his res
ignation and was going to an avia-
ton detachment down south some
where and little Mae Clement told
me In strictest confidence that they
had lately become engaged.
Nell and Joe, who though really in
love with each other, were always
falling out" had made up and life
was like a sweet love song again for
them.
Even our middle-agedD collector,
who was twice widower, had sig
nified his intentions of marrying his
landlady.
Romance, romance everywhere
But not a breath of 1t touched my
life.
Here was I, Nora Monahan, first
assistant to the president, around
whom nearly everything had always
revolyed, outside the pale of 1t all
Just then Mr.. Maglone, the president
of the firm, came out and stood by my
desk.
Much work, Miss Monahan" he in
quired with his usual brevity.
"Why, yes. I'm really swamped," I
confessed.
OF course he had to come out at the
precise minute when I wasn't occupy
| ing myself. That always happens to
me. might be working like Tro-
| jan all morning and stop for just a
seconds hilarity-and get caught. The
others, for instance, have all the fun
they want when "the cats away and
when he appears on the scene every
thing Is serene and quiet. OF course
! really don't care, but it gives one
wrong impression sometimes, you
know. Anyway, I've always consoled
| myself that confession is good for the
SOUL" so / remarked very casually,
| "Pve really mountain of work ahead
of me, but somehow / can't seem to
concentrate today.
mo wonder" he said, half under his
breath, with all the excitement and
pandemonium that's existing around
here these last few days. don't think
ever struck such thoroughly roman
tic place in my life!"
looked up rather In surprise. Mr..
Maglone is usually very brief. He is
one of the finest and keenest business
men / have ever met, and he never
mixes business with sociability, so
was even more astonished when he
cried, CHANGING at the flowers on my
desk, "Don't tell me that you are fol-
lowing in the wake of all the others.
Has some gay Lothario sent you
those"
Mercy, mol" I laughed. FLOWERS
are my one extravaganza. Haven't you
ever noticed? have always ut least
one posy on my desk, even in the dead
of winter"
"Sure they don't come from anybody
elseT
"Of course not! I've wrapped my
self up in my work so much that I've
never had time to think of anyone
even If anyone had shown any interest,
which they haven't"
I'm glad of that" and he left me
abruptly and went back to the pri-
vate Office.
Selfish brute!" / cried to myself,
although l have always held an admi-
ration and respect for him, which has
amounted almost to reverence. Hes
afraid If go he won't get anybodylto
plug rs hard as have for his paltry
SIS perl"
But / was mistaken, for when I was
putting away my ledger after the 9TH
ers had gone, he said to me quietly,
almost gently, "Don't you ever grow
weary of the perpetual grind Of your
workT
"Oh, sometimes" i answered care
lessly, jabbing my pin viciously into
my hat.
"You seem so much of homebody
that I'm surprised somebody hasn't
captured you long before this"
Nobody has ever cared enough"
answered truthfully enough, as l
thought, "and never let 1t bother me-"
Somebody has cared very, very
much" he said seriously, and then to
my utter establishment, there he was,
telling me what lonely life he led, de-
spite his luxurious, exclusive clubs and
how much he had always longed for
simple, unpretentious home with
somebody who really cared.
And quite before knew 1t was
telling him how utterly weary / was
Of boarding In the city and how often
my thoughts had wandered back to our
coy little cottage In the country.
The very next Sunday we motored
out into the country and found the
most charming little place you ever
could imagine-not at all pretentious,