The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1919-07-21
THE DAILY
SHORT STORY
Just a Peek.
BY a. W. PEACH.
Copyright 1919 by the Mcclure News
/ paper Syudicate.l

reading THE Batdorf Galleries,
Twenty-fifth Exhibition" and within
Della Celland could see cool aisles lin
ed With pictures. Undecided she sway
ed a moment, then feeling again the
terrifying rush OF faintness that had
come over her increasingly during The
past week, she went u~nsteadily TO the
entrance.
Tie doorman looked at her kindly
his grave eyes noting the darkness
nnder the long lashes. the droop OF the
oval cheeks, and in reply to her ques-
ton, told her there was no fee charg'
ed for viewing the pictures.
The cool aIsles opened for her. and
she sat down with a long sigh OF re-
RET Here and there students and low
ars OF art were moving about or seated
studying the pictures. her own
thoughts we're with herselt-the III
ness that compelled her to give up d
fine position and that had sarpsd her
saving until she was about pennies.
Her eyes wandered unsee-ng to tne
picture opposite, and tnen emalne
fixed. Her breath caught IN nef
throat and she leaned forward unoe-
lieving yet forced to believe. Before
her was a picture Of a farmhouse lying
snugly beneath great elms. painted
with a sympathetic touch that put IN
to the picture more than skill.
at is! 1t surely is-home!' she
whispered.
The thought brought keen and rush
ing, the memory Of the quiet young ar
: list who had spent that week at her
{ faiher's house-the week in which he
had learned TO love her and she-al-
most to love HIM. She recalled the
hurt in his eyes when she told nm
that he was not the type OF man she
could really Iowa dnbster with PAINT
in a world where men Of action are
needed. He had gone as quietly as he
came. She had taken the position OIL
fered nv a friend in the world OF &C
Tor she admired; her father had died
and the farm had gone into the hands
Of the bank who held the mortgage;
and she-she had learned that the
worker with the stuff Of dreams and
beauty is as much needed as the
man Of action. She wondered where
he was. his name was on the card
"Wolcott Sundley." She could not
find out from them-no, she knew she
could not-after what was between
them.
Two men stopped lear the picture,
and she heard them discuss the pic
ture and refer to Sundley's success.
I She leaned back, a rush of emotion
Overwhelming her. The old home
where she had spent her girlhood,
where her mother had died and her
patient Woodworking father had lived
IDS life! Suddenly a dim wish took
form in her mind, to grow into an
oyerpowering desire to see the old
place nee more.
"Somebody has it. but I can see It,,
Just take a peek at it, anyway n
thought to herself, wistfully. 81 don't
care what happens after that. / must
see i'll must!"
She counted the cash in her pocket
book; there was enough to get there
and no more. She could stay with
some girlhood friend was her first
thought; then bitterly came the mem
DRY Of her proud departure. No-she
could not let them know OF her cir
eumstances; her pride could not bend
10 that.
The doorman saw a slight, graceful
girl leave the galleries, her cheeks
flushed with an unnatural rose, her
dark, tired eyes alight with inner emo
ton; but little he guessed she was
hurrying out into the noisy, restless
street In search of an old memory.
1t was the work of a few hours TO
yreach her boarding house. pack her
flew belonging and leave for the great
city station. Her kind landlady urged
her not to go until she was better;
but Della simply smiled in answer;
she would not turn back from her ad-
venture in search of that memory the
picture had awakened.
Only when she reached the great
station. and found herself a lonely
figure in the hurrying crowds, did she
hesitate. Her sense of constant weak
ness and loneliness depressed her and
lowered her courage; for a moment
che was tempted to go to Wolcott--
TO see again the kind, grave eyes with
their faraway whimsical twinkle, but
again she remembered with hot
cheeks her cool and cutting rejection
Of him.
When the northern express drew
smoothly from the station 1t carried
her, a dropping, pathetic figure WITH
vacant eyes, a small mouth curvlnG
wistfully, often glanced at by passen-
gers through the car but never glanc'
Ing back in return.
The morning drew on to and
the sun passed its old time milstones
n the sky; the car wheels hummed the
long they have sung through years to
! those who go to Joy and to those who
30 to regret.
Late in the afternoon, the familiar
and friendly hills came into view;
md Della stirred from her quiet. She
looked out with eager eyes, and the
scenes refreshed her eager spirit; but
with the new pleasantness came the
sudden question-what should she do
now that the time was at hand?
The whistle sounded far away. They
we're nearing the little station. The
farmhouse was miles from the station
how could she ever get there?
The questions aroused her to anx>
lous thought; then she sank back
she didn't care. She would walk to
The old home, and after that 1t didn't
matter!
When she stood at last on the worn
wooden platform, she looked about
With a quick breath. How familiar it
Sell, seemed! A few strange faces
ware near. hut the station had not