Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1920-08-03
A Real Romance
By s.idse Baleo.

"Who is he, Mrs. Duryea 2" inquired
Iona Winstead as she came down from
the stair landing, where she had stood
for several minutes, while a young
man spoke few parting words to the
landlady Of the home where Iona and
her father were staying during a visit
to the city.
"Mr. Hector Lyle, DEAR" was the
reply, "and never was more reluctant
to have a guest leave the place. He
has been a model boarder. I fear"
and the kindly lady sighed, ut Is q
question of money; but dared not
intimate 1t, willing as I would be to
help him."
Iona's eyes had never rested upon
face that so interested her as that Of
the young man who had Just left the
house.
HE is writer, Miss Iona." enlight-
ened the landlady,. "a romance writer
they term 1t, I think"
"Oh, how delightful" exclaimed
Iona. II know a real novelistl But
I don't know him after all. I wish l
did. only saw him. Perhaps he will
come back"
mo, dear" dissented Mrs. Duryea.
"He told me he would leave the city
for his old home soon. What saddened
me most, however, was that he was
greatly depressed and disheartened.
He has been working for long time
on story and 1t was returned to him
from the publishers last month. Then
he prepared synopsis Of 1t and sent
1t to another publisher, but so far has
got no encouragement. Poor fellow
Anyone could see that he is genius"
Iona was as much affected by the
moulnful story as the landlady her
self. There was good deal Of ro-
nance in her nature and her lively
imagination and sympathy cast a
glamor about the unfortunate author
that did not dissipate all the morning.
Time hung heavy on her hands. She
was a stranger in the city and could
not very well venture out without an
escort. Mrs. Duryea In years agone
had been their family housekeeper and
was like some relative, and Iona
sought her company to find her taking
down the curtains In modest little
rear apartment.
"Mr. Lyle's room." she advised Iona.
"Just look Except for the natural
wear and tear 1t is as neat and well
kept as the day he took it. Just like
him-he has piled all the stray bits Of
rubbish in a CRATE and has even
t1died up the wardrobe"
Just then there was a call for Mrs.
Duryea from downstairs. Iona re-
NAMED in the room awaiting her re-
turn. There was species Of fascina-
tion in being in the apartment where
genius had reigned. AS Iona noticed
q portrait of some kind crumpled up
in the crate she leaned over and disen-
tangled it from the heap Of papers
where 1t lay.
ut is his picture" she murmured;
"a crayon sketch made by some artist
friend I suppose" and Iona smoothed
it out and, with hasty, almost guilty
look at the doorway, thrust 1t into her
pocket. "Oh, dear, what cruel sac
rifice" she added, as she selected sew
eral sheets from the crate. "Mr. Lyle
must indeed have been discouraged to
abandon all the thoughts and labor
that he has cherished. wonder" and
Iona was fairly awed as she noted
great roll of manuscript tied with a
string and ready for the match Of the
housemaid-"perhaps that is the pre-
cious story upon which he founded
such bright hopes"
Mrs. Duryea, returning half an hour
later, discovered Iona seated on the
floor surrounded by sheets Of manu-
script.
"Tt's the story, Mrs. Duryea !" cried
Iona excitedly. sand he had left It to
be burned up! Oh, 1t is beautiful
beautiful Can I have It? Please
say can!"
"Why, what would you do with 1t,
child?" inquired Mrs. Duryea.
'T would read It all, and then all
over again. There isn't page so far
that doesn't fairly sparkle with lovely
sentiment and nobleness. The pub
fishers could never have read It. May
III? Oh, thank you-thank you!"
Hector Lyle had once set type In his
native village. When he left Mrs.
Duryea's he had less than ten dollars
| TO live on. He had found employment
with a publisher Of a neighborhood
weekly and managed to earn enough
to sustain him. He was alone in the
little den of a place when lovely
young lady entered the room, all ami
nation and eagerness.
ave have been trying to locate you
| for two months, Mr.. Lyle" spoke Iona
Winsted excitedly-"Mrs. Duryea and
I, and the publisher. too. And / typed
the whole manuscript Of the story for
the editor who had approved the
synopsis, and he has accepted 1t and
will pay you five hundred dollars down
| and"
There the impulsive Iona came to
confused pause for Mrs. Duryea fol-
lowing her, said: "Why, Iona, what
will the gentleman think, never having
seen you before and not understand
| ing what has come about?" and she
got quite as incoherent as Iona In
making the startled young author COM
prehend that through Iona his whole
destiny had changed.
Mr.. Archibald Winsted did not un-
derstand why his daughter had taken
such a great fancy to continue their
stay In the city until one day Iona in
| troduced him to "My friend, Mr. Lyle,
| the author" Then the tell-tale con-
sclousness In the eyes Of both told the
| observant old business man that the
happy pair were living love romance
| MI their own.