The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1920-07-17

effective.
put it on and fastened it, then ad-
justed my hat, a small black velvet
affair, and put on my coat, a three
quarter semi dress wrap of black
velvet. Then 1 selected a pair of
fresh white gloves, and drew them on.
1 fastened them slowly. 1 was begin
ming to have an unaccountable dread
of this dinner with Jack.
How Madse Met Jack.
Margaret"
Jack"
1t was, after all, a simple thing,
this meeting with my cousin brother
that 1 had so dreaded Save for the
fact that he took both my hands in
his, any observer of our meeting
would have thought that it was but a
casual one, instead of being reunion
after a separation of a year.
I had seen him as soon as I turned
the corner of Thirty eighth street
and Sixth avenue. He stood in front
of the ladies entrance" of the Trox-
ingham, looking eagerly up and down.
He was smoking one of the ineviat-
able long black cigars which 1 al
ways associate with Jack. AS soon
as he saw me he threw it into the
street. l felt an indefinable little
thrill clutch at my heart as he did it.
In the brotherly and sisterly relation
with which Jack and 1 had grown up
his cigar was a matter of course in
stead of courtesy. His throwing it
away seemed in some subtle way
forever to have destroyed the old re-
lationship.
"Shall we go directly to Broquin's?"
he asked, as he fell into step beside
me. 1T is so early we shall be able
to get our old table and have a good
talk while we eat
ct should like that" 1 said My
voice sounded unsteady. This meet
ing had upset me strangely. 1 seemed
to have stepped back years in my life.
My marriage to Dicky, my life with
him, my love for him, seemed in some
curious way to belong to some other
woman. 1 was again Margaret Spen-
Ger, going with my best friend to the
restaurant where we had so often
dined together.
And yet in some way 1 felt that
things were not the same as they
used to be. Jack was the same kind
ly brother 1 had always known, and
yet there seemed in his manner a
tinge of something different. / did
not know what. 1 only knew that l
felt very nervous and unstrung.
"Are you sure you feel perfectly
well, Margaret" Jack asked solicit
ously, as we turned the corner from
which we could plainly see the en-
trance to Broquin's. with its window
boxes of evergreens bidding defiance
to the cold outside.
Eyes, indeed; why?" lifted my eyes
to his for the first time since 1 had
first greeted him.
mighty Good Of You"
The look in his made me drop mine
again quickly. Why, 1 could not ex-
plain even to myself.
You look pale somehow, and your
eyes are strained sif you were wor-
rying over something. Are the pupils
more troublesome than usual this
year,"
1.-The pupils?" / said inquiringly. |
Then hastily. as I remembered that |
Jack supposed me still to be unnlar- |
ried and teaching. mo, they are no
worse than usual. l am perfectly all |
right, really, Jack. Tell me about |
yourself and your trip. 1 am dying |
10 hear your adventures"
The words were idle, foolish, but
could not stop to weigh them. All my |
faculties were centered on the prob
em-how best to tell Jack that l was |
married.
Plenty of time for my adventures" !
Tack returned. I'm going to hear all |
about you first. Here we are. Place
ooks natural"
Yes, doesn't it? I haven't seen it
since dined here last with you.
Really" He caught my hand in
lis as we went through the doors.
That was mighty good of you"
/ had told him the truth. Broquin's
lad always appealed to Jack and TO me
because it was quiet, offered excel
ent CUISINE and service, and had never
to the cabaret dance craze
which had taken possession of most of
Jew York's restaurants. It's only
music was that furnished by a really