The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1922-09-06
EDening Story
A Wealthy Breeder.


With Philip Holt and Helen Carew
the course Of true love was running
altogether too smoothiy-thers was
not ripple on the surface, not q
shadow in the depths. They were
deeply enamored of each other, her
parents were pleased with the match.
Philip had a good position, money of
his own and expectations from his
great aunt. an aged sinister, one
Catherine Geoghan. In snort, the con-
ditions were abnormal
Any one at all weatherwise Will tell
you that there are sometimes days so
Isuperlatively beautiful that a severe
storm may be looked for in the near
future. Such days are called weather.
breeders. One day Philip, who was
calling upon Helen-he spent a good
share of his time now at that occu-
Ipation-sa:d suddenly: ''There. L
forgot to write to Aunt Kate today.
This was my day for writing her: but
my head is SO full of you that forget
everything else, you dear girl!''
sit right down. there at my desk
and write her now" replied Helen.
I'll play you some of that Harrigan
and Hart music you like so we'll while
you write
A word about this rich Aunt Kate
A part of her time she spent on a farm
she owned in New Hampshire and a
part of her time in New York. Ex-
Icept that she was a rather eccentric
body this was about all that Phillip
had told concerning her. Kate had
never seen her. but they were to visit
her on their wedding tour.
Helen seated herself at the piano
and began those airs once so popular,
presently breaking into song with
l"Love. bring out your orange bios
SONS, put on your snow-white veil"
from "Cordelia's Aspirations" There
was in the living room one of thosel
dinky little writing desks which
women adore and men eXecrate.
Philip seated himself at at it and
wrote. He had completed his letter.
put 1t in the envelope. sealed it and
directed 1t when, so awkward was he
| in handling Helen's foolish little ivory
handled pen, a great glob of ink
dropped on the face of the envelope.
He tore off the ruined envelope, crum-
pied it up and threw it into the
beribboned little wastebasket by the
side of the desk, substituted another
envelope, directed it. pressed it on the
plotting pad, sealed the letter and put
| it in his pocket.
There, that's done! Now come and
| talk to me-" he said. 1t was late
when Philip left. How desolate the
living room looked to Helen after his
Dear Philip" she, sighed. Then
her eye caught the discarded envelope
ISshe had happened to be looking
when he threw it away-and she
picked 1t out Of the basket and
| smoothcd 1t out. And this is what
met her eyes: Miss Fife La Tour.
with the addition of a New York ad-
| dress.
| Fife La Tour! Ifthat name did
not suggest the footIights then moth
| ing did. And he had said he was
writing to his aunt! Out of the shad-
ows which the piano lamp left lurking
! in the room the green-eyed monster
crawled and seized upon Helen. She
| crept up to her room like wounded
dove with a broken wing.
| During a wakefui night and the
| dreary morning hours that, followed
Helen did a lot of thinking, her mood
! alternating between earful despair
| and righteous indignation.
Helen took resolution. She in
formed her mother-her father was
| going to New, York. She packed
ance in her purse and departed. Ar
irving in the big city. she took tax
and drove to the address of Miss Fife
| La Tour, from WHOM she proposed t6
1 -
proved to be an old-fashioned dwell
ling stranded in that part of the me
l'tropolis once known as Chelsea VII
lage. A neat housemaid admitted hel
when she frigidly demanded to SCI
| Miss La Tour.
1t was old-fashioned pnrlor int
which she was shown, with tides
on the chairs, CHASTITY enlarged
| crayon portraits" on the walls and {
gilt basket of wax fruit under a glas
| on the handicapped table.
These chorus girls do get up tn
respectable in thoro manner,
thought Helen. II suppose there will
be a respectfully got up guardian t.
| match the parlor."
/ There was considerable delay
and then entered, to her, the mos
astonishing person upon whom sh'
had ever set eyes. 1t was a little
bird-iike old woman, dressed il
many colors, be-lounced and be
lfurbelowed. From an obvious wig
yellow curls hung down to her shoul
ders. and keen, merry old eyes looked
|