The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1918-03-09
EVENING STORY
Gretchen.
BY INES MACDONALD.
Upright, 1918, by Mcclure Newspap

shaving soap was to be obtained stood
the Girl. She was taking some change
out of a little nickel box, and, as she
gave the change and a small parcel to
the waiting customer, her bright
glance shifted to Blair.
You cannot ignore the undeniable
Eyes look into eyeS-hands touch-and
the world is different. The world was
different to William Dean Blair from
that moment. The white flash of her
mouth-the little upward thrust of
her chin when she laughed and the
heavy black hair with it's few threads
OF premature silver. and her eyes
frank responsive hazel gray eyes, quick
to register a laughing understanding
to his little sallies. for Bill Blair was
not the man to be struck dumb just
because the world was different.
The next night he came for toilet
soap-the third, tooth paste-the
fourth, he missed because he had to
go to studio party where a tire
some girl with sophisticated eyes as
sured him that he was a genius and
told him about her soul. The fifth
night he bought razor blades, and
fortunately there was a lull in the
trade at that counter for five minutes.
You're not a New York GIRL" he
asserted, as she dropped the change in
his hand
ooh yes am" she assured him.
But you're so different,' he said
so are you, but then you're from
the west" she leased.
IF you'd call Goshen, Ind, west"
he admitted.
And she flashed him a smile over
her shoulder as she turned to wait on
another customer.
|. The sixth night he was late 1t was
after eleven, and she found herself
wondering if he was coming Finally
she saw him approaching, hat in
nand, for 1t was warm, and the weari-
ness of the last hour slipped away
from IRON her as she laughed into his eyes.
Hello, Mani"
Hello, yourself. Irish maid!"
m not Irish, I'm a Deutsch girl"
saucily.
"A1l right. Gretchen. I'm awfully
pro-Deutsch when look at YOU" And
there was depth to his blue eyes be-
hind the raillery in his voice that made
her wonderland watch for his COM
ing. And he came! His average was
i've nights week for six weeks.
Sometimes she was SO busy that it was
impossible for them to exchange more
than a sentence of greeting. Now and
then they had as much as five min
utes and sometimes there was nothing
but an. understanding smile. But al
ways he bought something.
You must be starting a drug store,''
once she said with dangerous glance
as she wrapped up the fifth tooth
brush he had bought in as many
weeks But he only Redeemed under
his tan, and smiled goodbye as she
turned to wait on someone else.
And then one night he seemed
little more confident, for he stayed
longer than usual-almost ten min
utes. And when she gave him back
his change his hand caressed hers.
For the first time in her life she lost
her poise and she could feel the flush
OF r,
wonder if he could read anything in
her eyes, and her lids dropped to cover
their frankness.
For some reason or other when
twelve o'clock came that night. she
was more buoyant than ever before,
after the long hours on her feet. She
almost danced toward the subway en-
trance, and, as she waited for her
train, magazine at the newsstand
caught her eye. She tripped over and
bought it, tucked it under her arm
and went home to her mother.
Her mother was asleep, but she
awakened and prepared their usual
midnight lunch while Gretchen. hum
ming gaily under her breath, slipped
out of her clothes and braided her
hair in a pigtail. Clad in her kimono
she sat at the little table in the kitch-
enette and looked thru her maya
zine between bites of a cold meat
sandwich. Then suddenly she hunch-
ed up her knee and spread the maya
zine open in her lap, for the title of a
story smiled up at her out of the mys-
tic page. "Gretchen''-"By William
Dean Blair" she read.
How queer!" she exclaimed aloud.
Whats queer. DEAR? asked her
mother 1nterestedly.
"Oh, nothing" And she slipped
around the table, kissed her mother
lightly, and skipped out of the room
and tumbled into her bed, where she
eagerly read the story of Gretchen,
while her mother cleared the table
and smiled softly.
After she came to the end, Gretchen
lay staring up at the ceiling and
dreamed. Her story it was-his story
of them. He had written their story
self walking and laughing thru its
pages right into his arms. She jump
ed uo and looked into the mirror. She
smoothcd the dark arch of her brow
with the tip of her finger. How we'll
he had read her thoughts! How
strange that he should have noticed
the half droop of her lids and the
way she lifted her chin when she
laughed. She did it unconsciously
now, waved at her mirrored image,
turne@ out the light and went to bed
to dream the eternal dream of youth
and happiness.
The next morning her mother went
10 awaken her and found her breath
ing softly with a magazine cuddled to
her breast. Then she opened her
eyes happily, and, with flushing
cheeks and half shamed glance, she
showed her mother the story of
Gretchen.
you see," she explained, hats
what HE'S always called me. Right
from the very first!''
And that night she watched for his
coming with shining eyes and flaming
heart But he did not come!
"Oh, WE'LL she said blithely, ito
morrow night"
! But the second night he did not
come, nor the third, On the fourth
night she dragged her tired body
homeward and there was a great fear
IN her heart. Her mother petted and
comforted her as best she could.
/ Don't be foolish. girl. What is