The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1922-11-17
their two bags piled on the seat before

EcdCHSu the city but Sne always
sends carriage when she expects
me-"
As they stepped out upon the street
a station wagon driven by an old ne
gro appeared promptly at the curb.
''Mawnin', Cap'n; mawnin'l Yo' just
on time. Mis- Sally tole me to kerry
you all right UP to the haouse. Yes.
sch"
Sylvia did not know, what later
historians may be interested to learn
from these pages, that the station
wagon, drawn by a single horse. was
for years the commonest vehicle
known to the people Of the Hossier
capital. The panic of 1873 had hit
the town so hard, the community's
punishment for it's sins OF imitation
had been so drastic, that It had ac-
cepted meekly the, rebuke implied in
Its designation as one-horse town.
In 1884 came another shock to con-
fldence, and in 1898, still anothe.
earthquake. as though the knees OF
the proud must at intervals be
humbled. The one horse station
wagon continued to symbolic the
quiet domesticity Of the citizens Of
| the Hoosier capital; women OF I'M
impeachable social standing carried
their own baskets through the aisIes
OF the city market or drove home with
onion tops waving tr1umphantly on
the seat beside them.
Il wonder whether Mrs. Owen will
like me?" said Sylvia a little plain.
lively. the least bit homesick as they
turned into Delaware st.
"Of course she will like your
| laughed Professor Kelton. though I
will say that she doesn't like every.
body by any manner of means. You
mustn't be afraid of her; she gets
on best with people who are not AFRAID
to talk to her She isn't like anybody
you ever saw, or. I think, anybody
you are ever likely to see again.
Mrs. Ovens big comfortable brick
houce stood in that broad part Of
Delaware St. where the maple arch
rises highest, and II was surrounded
by the snoothest OF lawns, broken
only by a stone basin in whose cen
ter posed the jolliest OF Cupids holding
green glass umbrella, over which
a jet Of water played In the most
realistic raInstorm imaginable.
Another negro, not quite as veneer
able as the coachman, opened the
door and took their bags. He ex-
planned that Mrs. Owen Che called her
Mis- Sally'D had been obliged to at
tend q meeting of some board or other,
but would return shortly. The guests
rooms were ready and he at once led
the way upstairs, where a white maid
met them.
Professor Kelton explained that he
must go down into the city on some
errands, and Sylvia was thus left to
her own devices.
It was Ike a story book to arrive
| at a strange house and be carried of
TO a beautiful room, with a window
seat from which one could look down
into the most charming of gardens.
She opened her bag and disposed her
few belongings and was exploring the
bathroom wonderingly Cfor the bath
At home was an affair OF a TIN tub
to which water was carried by HAND
when a maid appeared with a glass
OF lemonade and a plate OF cakes.
It was while she munched her cakes
and slipped the cool Lemonade in the
windOw-seat with an elra's branches
so close that she could touch them.
and wondered how near to this room
her grandfather had been lodged. and
what the mistress of the house was
like, that Mrs. Owen appeared. after
the nghtest tap on the high walnut
door.
Il thought you were older-or
younger. I didn't know you would DO
just ike this! I didn't know just when
you were coming or should have
tried to be at home-but there was a
meeTing.-there are so many things,
child!".
Mrs. Owen sat down beside Sylvia
in the window-seat and took one OF
the cakes and nibbled II while they
talked. Sylvia had never been so
wholly at ease IN her life. It was as
though she had been launched into the
midst Of an old friendship, and she
felt that she had conferred the great
est possible, favor in consenting to
visit this house, for was not this dear
old lady saying
You see. I'm lonesome sometimes
and I almost Hidnap people 10 get
them to visit me. I'm terribly prac-
teal old woman. If you haven't heard
It I must tell you the truth-I'm a
farmer! And don't let anybody run
my business. Other widows have to
take what the lawyers give them; but
while I can tell oats and corn and
hnrcnC from fcr5 - 10
my own money. We women are a lot
Of geese, 1 tell you. child I'm treas
urer Of a lot Of things women run, and
I can see a deficit through a brick wall
as quick as any man on earth Don't
you ever let any man vote any proxy
for you-you tell EN- you'll attend the
stockholders meetings yourself. and
when you go, kickr
When Professor Kelton had de-
clared to Sylvia on the way from the
station that Mrs Owen was unlike
any other woman in the world. Sylvia
had not thought very much about Il.
To be sure Sylvia's knowledge OF the
world was the meagrest, but certainly
she could never have imagined any
woman as remarkable as Mrs. owen.
Mrs. Owens white hair was beau
tifully soft and wavy, and she wore
1t in the prevailing manner. Her eyes
narrowed occasionally with an effect
OF sudden dreaminess, and these mo-
mentary reveries seemed to the ador-
ing Sylvia wholly fascinating. She
spoke incisively and her VOICE was
deep and resonant. She was exceed
4r,r ~ rr-fvr