Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 262, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 November 1911 — Penelope Ponders [ARTICLE]

Penelope Ponders

By DOROTHY DOUGLAS

Bob bad taken bis dismissal; bis eyes were black with Increasing gloom. Julia, the proud little recipient of bis affections, smiled; but there wav tenderness In ber smile: ’Things nilgbt be entirely different," she continued, “if I didn’t think there was something In that bead of yours that Is worth getting out 1 feel sure that you could make your presence known in the world if you only would —instead, you drift about spending money with every breath." “It is honestly acquired money—and my own.” Bob glowered at her. “T am perfectly well aware of that" Julia said a trifle coldly, “but It you hadn’t been lucky with stocks yoii might have continued to develop your talents and try to do something worth while." Her words were true. Bob Stanley was not of an analytical mind or would have realized that the days* spent In trying bis pen In-the literary field had been strangely happy onfes. He failed to remember that the occasional shafts of lltfit, In the way Of successes, had brightened the days as nothing had brightened them since. “Anyway." Julia went on in a bard little voice. “1 will not marry a man who is wasting bis life as you are. 1C you make yotr name ring, even a little —perhaps I will reconsider my an* swer." » • > With a swift, unexpected movement. Bob caught her Ins his arms. He bent his bead over hers Intending to kiss her, but he released her as suddenly, *and without another word turned and left her. < Well, that was the end—the end of all things. Bob Stanley ambled on and on until hv found that be bad dropped onto one of the benches hi the park. A grim smile twisted bis lips. It was amusing to find bow naturally he had fallen into the way of all loafers, and failures. They all sought out a bench in the park and there, with variable Imaginations, pictured their last miserable hours. Stanley felt that any way out of existence would suit him, whether It be long and torturing, or swift and sure. He found gloomy enjoyment when he first pictured his name In big headlines and that of Julia Stearns figuring la 'the tragic affair. His Imagination carried him on to one line that would stand out in big letters: “Just what was to be expected of a man of Robert Stanley's kind." The man on the bench straightened hlB shoulders and his eyes narrowed with momentary freedom from gloem. “1 'have walked past exactly flvp times," said a voice at his el«ow. “Which route have you decided upon f she Inquired laughingly, seating herself beside him. “1 am sure It will be a pistol—your eyes are so desperately eager to get there." Bob laughed sheepishly and covered the hand'sbe had put on his arm to belle the frivolity of ber words. “Bhe refused me, Penelope.’ he said, and all his past misery returned. “I more than half expected It. Bobby,’ Pjdfxe lope told him. “You see Julia Is ambitious, not only for herself, but for others She wants to be married to a man about whom people will say, *Oh, there’s So-and-so I” “They say that in one tone about me now,” Bob gloomed. Penelope looked tenderly at the artistically handsome bead so appealing in its misery and pondered long and seriously. What would be the best and quickest way to awaken the slumbering genius in blmT It was there in every little quick turn of temperament, In the big loves of his nature, but he was a soul struggling in the dark. He turned toward her unexpectedly and met the pain In her, eyes. "I’ve hurt the very best friend l have In the world!” he cried contritely. "I will do anything you say If you can help me is be worths of Julia —and you." Penelope laughed quickly. “If you won’t buy the pistol, you may come to see me tonight, and we’ti see what la to be done." A dull color swept up to the auburn at his temples. Penelope regretted her words “That was only tor a second," Boh said looking into her eyes; “the strength of the weak la not mine." “The .weakness of strength." corrected Penelope. “Come early tonight and let us get a good start toward making you famous" “1 hope it won’t be Inamous." mattered Bob. His gloom had lightened. He oould more easily picture Julia in his big mansion on the hill because he felt that Penelope would help him. Bob Stanley was of a type of man that requires the help of a woman and m getting it, gets aIL That night when Penelope greeted him on the veranda of ber home be drew her hand close within Us own.' “You are looking unusually beautiful.” he said; “you should always wear those Burns Jonesy things—they make you look like a symbol of purity." Penelope blushed. “1 don’t return from Paris —always." She made him comfortable in the wide swing. “1 want you to bear one or two of my new songs—l never know whether or not they will take until you have told me," she said prettily. While Penelope sang in her deep soothing -ontralto. Bob felt thankful that Julia, too, sang He wouldn't love a woman who couldn't sing to him when he wea tired or when be wanted only music. .

When she came out and sank into a low chair at his side it was not unnatural that they should fall Into discussing the latest novels. From that the conversation turned to Penelope's latest trip and the plot she bad thought of while in Paris. It was a splendid story to wprk out and as she narrated the Incidents she bad the pleasure of watdhing Bob Stanley awaken to, first polite, and finally animated interest In the story. "1 wish I could write It," Penelope said and fixed wistful eyes. in which the wisdom was concealed, upont Boh. “If I could write that story—l would win flulia!" Bob remarked. “Fame and Jolla!" laughed Penelope. “1 am sure you are welcome to the plot," she said, “but 1 don’t see bow you can concentrate on anything here—you will be mooning and glooming about Julia." Bob looked Into her wise eyee and laughed. “One summer.” be said pointedly. "your mother asked me to join your camp In the Adirondacks." "We leave next Saturday;" .Penelope kept the triumph well under control. “It would be a splendid opportunity to work." she said, “and 1 will be there always to —give you the atmosphere of Normandy for the story." “Would 1 bother you " Bob asked with tardy modesty. “You are like one of tbe family," Penelope laugbed Frankly. “If yon can stand m» practicing—" “I began to think 1 can stand anything irom you. Penny." ‘That Is your writer's imagination," Penelope suggested. Six weeks later Penelope and Boh strolled through the trail and up to the hotel for mall. The first cheek had arrived. “I suppose It will take at least fifty successes—before Julia will listen to me again?” Boh asked half seriously. “One good novel would get you there quicker than many short stories," Penelope thought "We will put up a lunch and row over to the island this afternoon and talk—novel." Bob laughed. "Yon are a tittle schemer—bolding out bait to me." “You and Julia will both thank: me—later on/’ she made answer. Penelope knew In her heart that Bob Stanley would never again ioee his interest in writing. He bad been awakened now to the full joy of real Inspirational work. ’1 rejoice every day, Bop," Penelope said later on when they had reached the little deserted island, "that Julia refused to marry a nonentity. ,Bhe has really been the means of giving the world another greet writer. I know yon will be that some day." They drafted out tbe llneb of % novel during the day and toward dusk sat down for their tea. “Bob,” Penelope spoke seriously, “I want you to do me a favor." Stanley only looked at her and waited. “Julia refused you when yon were a nonentity—l want her to accept you before you are famous She doesn't love you If she waits—for more." “For more?" T mean,” Penelope said quickly and a little flush colored each cheek, “that 1 have beeh with you ail summer—and have learned that yon are—well, not such a bad specimen—without fams If Julia expects any more—*be doesn’t deserve you and 1 shall write and tell her so!" declared Penelope. “Will you please—for my benefit—leave tonight and propose again to Julia?" Bob laughed. "Why certainly, Penn.” A young moon had lighted the duslt when they returned to the camp. "Wish me success little helper" Boh said as he turned toward the station. “AH the Joy in the world!" Penelope cried from the depths of her heart. When he bad gone she saah into a heap because the light of tbe world had gone and she was blinded to ail save darkness She stood up and listened with bated breath. He was returning “What Is ft. Bob I What has happened?” she cried quickly. She scarcely knew his voice when he spoke. “Nothing, Penelope, except that the whole earth grew dark—without you beside me." He drew a deep breath when she was safe in his arms.