Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 159, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 July 1911 — STUPID TIM [ARTICLE]

STUPID TIM

BY NELLIE CRAVEY GILLMORE

Leonora laid down her mandolin and took up a book. Ten minutes later she tossed aside the book and went over to the piano. She played whimsically for a quarter of an hour —and banged down the lid impatiently. Then she crossed the room to a window and, parting the green velvet curtains, peered frowningly out at the snow-blanched air. At last she turned and walked over to the fireplace, her eyes seeking for the fifteenth time the good-natured face of the old clock on the mantel. Only three! Another hour, at least, to wait The imperative tinkling of the door bell caused her heart to bound foolishly. Perhaps—! But before the conjecture was finished, a maid entered with a note, and handed it to the girl. It was without address or envelope and Leonora opened It a little curiously. The writing inside was familiar enough, and brought the blood splurging into her soft cheeks. The lines were scribbled In haste, apparently, with a pencil, and ran: “Impossible for me to keep- engagement this afternoon. Something more Important on hand. Will have to see you later, when more at leisure. “TOM.” ♦ The paper slipped to the floor from Leonora’s nerveless fingers. The angry crimson slowly dyed her temples. “Something more important!" —“see you when .more at leisure!” With a sudden gesture of contempt, she picked up the note and tore it in two; then she threw it into the fire, and with an indescribable look on her face, stood watching It blaze and char and vanish completely. What a wretched simpleton she had t been, to be sure, to have wasted her time and her love on a creature like - tMa - Th® bitter- tears -horneyes and made scalding tracks down her quivering cheeks. What should she do? What could she do? After Tom Bateman’s deliberate Insult, what was there to do but put him out of her life forever? When she had gathered up the shattered ends of her self-control, Leonora went slowly upstairs to her room and sat down before her desk. She pulled open a drawer and took out two letters lying there. One was from young Bateman —the last one he had written —and In which he had begged permission to come to her on this very afternoon, hinting openly words he intended to speak; that he had spoken, In fact. In a hundred little ways since he had known her. The other letter was from her cousin, Billy Townsend. Billy had been very djjar to her ever since the days of pinafores and pigtails; he had never let. a month go by without making some allusion to the time when they should be married. And in reality, she would doubtless have consented to share her future with Billy, had it not been for Tom Bateman’s sudden appearance on the horizon of her life —growing closer and closer Into the very fiber of it till everything In the whole world had seemed transformed. With a little sobbing catch of her breath, Leonora unfolded her cousin’s tetter and read: “Dearest Leo: “It’s no use, I suppose, but I’m not going to quit without one more stagger. If you are sure It's quite hopeless, tell me so, and I’ll never bother you any more. But you know, girlie, that my heart is always in the same place—right in the hollow of your jwn little hand —and if, at any time, you need me, or want me, just say so, and I’ll spend my life making you happy. As ever and always. J “BILLY.” Again the tears ran down the girl’s cheeks, but this Jime they were a different sort of tears. Dear, generous ’ Billy! He had seen the perilous path ' jhe was treading, had divined the chasm at the end of it, and In his tactful, big-hearted way, was offering her * the protection of his home and love In her mortification and disappointment Under the swift influence of her gratitude, she seized a pen from the rack and wrote rapidly: “Dear Billy: “I want you—and need you. Meet ytne at Delcey’s at half-past five. I am too, restless to stay here. “LEO." She summoned the maid and dispatched her Immediately to Townsend’s office with the note. Then she dressed herself quickly and went out Into the street, to walk herself, if possible, into some semblance of calm. At exactly half-past five, she turned the corner and walked half a block down, to Delcey’s. The first thing that met her eyes was her cousin's big green car. He was sitting In front, with his cap drawn over his eyes, and his fur-coat buttoned close up to his throat The girl approached him rapidly, her head bent slightly, against the keen lash of the snow. “Oh, Billy!” was all she could say, when she got up to him. He made room for her, and she. sprang in beside him. The next in-, stant they were whirling off down the glistening avenue. "Why did you send to* <ne. this way?” whs th® first question he asked “Because,' she answered simply, “because I wanted you.’* “I'm r.frald there’s been a mistake somewhere." His voice was grave, but the whir of the machine, and the wind in their faces, drowned all. accent completely.

Leonora shot a swift query at him. “A—a mistake?” site questioned sharply. “Yes. Tom Bateman’s wild about you. And —forgive me, Leo, but I believe I was right in supposing that you—that you cared for him." The girl said nothing, but a little half-sob caught In her throat “Was I?” They were going perceptibly Slower now, and it was not difficult to catch the tremor In Leonora’s tone. “You—you have no right to ask me such a question, Billy.” The answer was sufficient, and for several minutes they sped on in si-, lence. Presently, the m3n turned and said: “At least, dear, 1 know there has been some sort of trouble. You sent so me,, to tell me. Now what was it, Leo?” She hesitated a moment, then told him everything, of Bateman’s attentions to her, his letter asking permission to come—and the insulting note that followed. When she had finished the man at her side drew a deep breath; but all he said was “Ah!” Ten minutes later, he ran the machine up to Leonora’s door and jumped out, assisting her to the pavement The leaden sky had just released a hurricane of snowy feathers and the keen wind was whipping crimson roses into the girl’s cheeks. She waited while her companion removed the goggles from his eyes, her heart beating turgidly as she speculated on the possible outcome of her letter. “Come In for a little while and get warm, Billy,* she said, “then we can talk." He turned. It was Tom Bateman! The color fled from Leonora’s face. stiffly. - “I beg yours,” he interposed, coming toward her, “Miss Winston; what must you thought of me?” She made no answer, but stood regarding him coldly, a bewildered light in her eyes. “Where is Billy?” she demanded. "Down at his office, where he’s been all afternoon: As luck would have it, I was there with your cousin when your note came to him. I had just confided my intentions to him and was on the eve of going to you. Neither of us could understand your attitude. Billy could not leave his work; he is a very good friend of mine, .beside he made- me go in his place. When I saw that you did not recognize me, I purposely kept up the deception because I wanted to know the truth.” , ■ “But —that note —” she protested, indignantly, the hot blood circling her cheeks. To Leonora’s amazement, Tom Bateman laughed outright. Her head went up with a swift touch of pride. “All that stupid Tim’s doing,” he explained as they ascended the steps. “After having been here nlne-hundred-and-ninety-nihe times with notes for you, it looks as if young Timothy O’Brien would have had betters sense than to bring a note Intended for Dick Chestnut here to you, doesn’t it?” Leonora dimpled in spite of herself. “It looks as if you might have been a little careful in addressing your communications.” Bateman reddened. "As if a man in my fix had any sense at all. sweetheart!" “Anyway,” said Leonora as they entered the door, ““I am glad even Timothy thinks I’m the only one you can write notes to.” She was very close to him now; the corridor was deserted. He closed the door softly and took her in his arms.