The Dolores star., 1922-11-17
Mary.
Old Sweetheart
By JUSTIN wENTwoop

At forty Mary Rochester was the
Joiiiest spinster alive. She lived in an
uptown fat, went to work every dav
was manager of large department
OF large corporation, and drew n
salary OF $50 a week. Also, she kept
cat and a parrot.
FOR goodness sake, Mary, why
don't you get married?" her friends
would say.
Thanks, but / haven't found the
man yet who's a good substitute for
eighty dollars a week" Mary would
answer, laughing.
AND nobody would have guessed
that Mary Rochester had ever had a
love affair. Nevertheless, there were
hours Of loneliness when she remem.
bered certain bygone days.
The setting was the seashore Mary
was twenty-three, less plump. more
willowy, and the young man who had
his arm round her was tall and slim
and dark, and had expressive brown
eyes.
For ever and ever, sweetheart"
For ever and ever"
All, well, they had drifted apart, and
he had gone west and forgotten her,
And perhaps It had all been for the
best. Then Mary would come out of
her trance and laugh, and tickle the
cats ears, to his indignation, and tease
the parrot with peanut.
Then, one day, she got letter that
set her heart beating the minute she
saw the wellremembered writing upon
the envelope. II was from James. He
had done well out west, he wrote and
was returning east for visit. He
wondered whether she was married,
and whether she had quite forgotten
him. He had never married, he added.
Mary Rochester hesltated for sew.
eral days, and then wrote that she
hadn't forgotten him, and that she
would be very pleased to see him, but
not at her fiat, as she lived alone.
He replied, making an appointment
to meet her at hotel, and have sup
per with her. Afterward they would
go to the opera or the theater, as she
preferred. There was touch of sen
timentality In his note that made Mary
answer in quite a formal manner.
She would never have recognized
the man In evening dress who was
waiting for her Where was the slim
figure of yore? Where were the ex-
pressive brown eyes? Gone !-and in
their place the rotund body of middle
age. and the eyes were clouded with
the passage Of years.
They sat down at table, and he
told her his life story during the meal.
He was manager of a motor-car con.
cern, had made tons Of money, and
was thinking of retiring. Perhaps he
would not go back.
"Do you remember that evening at
the beach?" he asked, touching her
hand.
She withdrew It gently. "Yes," she
answered. She laughed. "a girl doesn't
forget her first proposal" she said.
"Nor her last?" asked James.
She felt herself reddening. She did
not know what to do or say. There
was a touch of the grotesque in this
encounter. But-oh, those Illusions
that she had cherished, deep down in
her breast, as middle-aged spinsters
will
81 suppose I'm no beauty myself
she reflected, surveying herself in the
mirror.
They went to the theater and he saw
her home in a taxi. He became sentl-
mental. He had always been that, but
sentlmentallty sits so much better
upon boy than on middle-aged man.
"Fve had my adventures. Mary" he
said, "but deep down in my heart
there was always the memory of those
days with you. For ever and ever.
Do you remember"
"No," answered Mary sharply.
As the taxi turned into her street
he took her hand in his. MARY, will
you come back with me?" he asked.
81 want a wife, want to settle down,
and we'll hit it off all right together.
/ want you to come back with me on
Saturday"
Yet she hesltated After all, 1t was
her last chance, and almost anything
is better than spinsterhood. For a
few moments the struggle was an
guish. Then the taxi stopped at her
door.
Good gracious. didn't I tell you I'm
enpaged?" she cried. mo, I'm afraid
I can't, under the circumstances, can
I? But I'm so glad to have seen you
again, James. Good-by"
In the desert of lost illusions MARY
wandered that evening. She sat very
still, thinking. Then she put the mem
cries of James clean out OF her ihihu'
ats better to have loved ana iost
than to have married the wrong inaii'
said Mary.
..ta ,bn cot rlDbing It's