Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 162, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 July 1912 — Fateful Miss Douglas [ARTICLE]

Fateful Miss Douglas

By Fanny Burton

Mrs. Ransom surveyed * her tall brother while he returned the scrutiny with smiling cheerfulness. John MacPherson was enjoying to the utmost his little visit to his sister, whom he had not seen since her marriage a couple of years previous, so he did not in the least understand why she should sigh and remark seriously, “It's 400 bad; yes,4t is!" “What?” he asked, lazily. "Why, that you got here just the day after Isabel Douglas left town," responded pretty little Mrs. Ransom. “She’s the dearest girl! She's —” "Lives in Kentucky, beautiful as a dream, glorious brown eyes, most charming disposition on earth, is—” “Where’d you meet ner?” broke in Mrs. Ransom, breathlessly. "I never had the pleasure," laughed her brother. “Only I had to sit one whole evening during my visit In Toledo and hear my hostess recount the charms of this most evasive, Isabel. —She- had left there just the week before my arrival! I seem to cast a blighting shadow over her enjoyment; at any rate, she runs at my approach.” “Now, isn’t that queer?” said his sister. “But, really, John, I’m in earnest about wanting you to know her.” “So was my Toledo hostess," he answered, amusedly. “If only the lady and I were of a similar mind and as much In earnest, nothing on earth could save us from wedding cake and rice. But we aren't, thank the fates," he cried rather fervently. At the age of 35, John MacPherson, comfortable in his bachelor quarters In New York, wealthy enough to indulge any whim, looked with quiet and polite pity at the unfortunates he knew tied down to domestic cares. He had fully decided he wanted none of that for him —what happiness be might miss was more than compensated for in-peace and quiet and freedom. “You’re wrong, Jack,” said his sister, rather wistfully. “Aren’t you ever going to abandon your crazy notions and marry some nice girl and settle down?” 1 He threw out his hands in mock dismay as he got to his feet. “I’m the most settled down person you ever saw. Nan,” he protested. “I’m as steady as a railway time table and —perfectly contented just as I am. I could attend the wedding of some other fellow to your amiable Isabel without a qualm.” “ —- “No, you couldn’t!" said his sister forcibly. “You’ve never seen her!” But if he had not seen her the fame of Miss Isabel Douglas was destined to haunt his ears. During his visit at his sister’s he heard Miss Douglas’ name so frequently on the lips of visitors \hat he grew half irritated. It was impossible that any girl should be such a paragon—and If she was he had no desire to know her. Such perfection would be tiresome, he concluded; and so he dismissed her from his mind. When be reached Chicago on his homeward way he stopped to transact some business. Phillips, his lawyer, was most cordial In pressing his New to come out to his house, and MacPherson was half inclined to accept His frame of mind experienced an Instantaneous change, however, when Phillips added: “We’ve a visitor coming tomorrow you’d like to meet, I know —Miss Isabel Douglas of Kentucky. She —" “Sorry,” said Mr. MacPherson, decidedly, “but I can’t wait over a day on any account, my dear man.” At that moment he would have gone a hundred miles out of his way to escape meeting this southern paragon. He did not stop to reflect she undoubtedly had not the slightest desire of meeting him, either —the constant sound of her name and the rehearsal of her attractions had molded itself into a haunting shadow, pursuing him, and he actually disliked the very thought of her. He wondered crossly why she never stayed home where she belonged. Then he went back to New York. Strangely enough, even there he was not left in peace. One of the newspapers printed a page of pictures and gossip about beautiful women, and, Idly glancing it over, the name of Douglas caught his eya He groaned as be looked closer—yes, the first name was Isabel. Then he searched for the picture of her and stared at it half indignantly. It was a very lovely face, more than that, it was r high-bred and thoughtful, as well as perfect in line and form. But John MacPherson had seep. too many beautiful women to be especially attracted by any one ta particular. He wondered idly what there could be about this particular girl which so hypnotised her friends and acquaintances. In a few weeks she had passed out of his mind entirely. But John MacPherson was cot to slip out of the clutches of determined fate in this easy fashion. With no warning whatever, no premonition of the trap before Map, he climbed the steps of a Fifth avenue house one to MW lengagement.lengagement.

His hostess was a charming woman, and her dinners wire famous He was in a very pleasant frame of mind. AS he opened the little envelope containing the name of his dinner partner be exclaimed so sharply that the well-trained footman could ' not forbear a glance of astonishment On the card was the name of Isabel Douglas -v MacPherson, Instantly in revolt, meditated flight for an instent, then realized how impossible that was, and that there was nothing to do but go downstairs and meet her. Never in bis life had he-entertained such £ violent prejudice for any woman’s society as he now felt for hers. He was entirely blind to her innocence of the manner in which her name-had been rung in his ears tfll he hated the sound of it. At any rate, she should not add him to the list of victims report said strewed her path. He entered the big drawing room and greeted his hostess. “I’ve favored you tonight,” that lady said, smiling. “I’ve given you tiest and nicest girl here so take out to dinner. Do you know Miss Douglas of Kentucky?" “I do not," said the hapless Joh:\ MacPherson, crisply, and mentally set his teeth, in two minutes It was all over and he was properly introduced to her. Just what he had expected Miss Douglas to do was hard to say —he had braced himself for resistance. But to his bewilderment, like a dash of cold water in his face, he realized there was absolutely nothing to resist Miss Douglas, far lovelier than her picture, had given him one rare, cordial Bmile which revealed the secret of her power, for It was a smile speaking a-sympathetic Interest in the ladlvidual addressed, and then had not paid very much more attention to him, being interested in the conversation of a returned arctic explorer. MacPherson studied her at his leisure and as the moments passed found himself grasping wildly at all his Ingrained prejudices against her. He had witc enough to reflect in a panicstricken way .that if the mere sight of her was so disarming, acquaintance with her might work marvelous changes In a man’s feelings. When they passed out to the dining room MacPherson found himself halting for something to say, a new experience for him. The girl herself broke the Ice by remarking that she thought she knew his sister —was not Nan Ransom out west that relative? She had mentioned her brother so often. By the end of that dinner John MacPherson was miserable, apologetic, at sea. He did not know why he should be so upset. All he realized was that he had a desire to explain to Miss Douglas how sorry he was for disliking her before he had met her. s. “She certainly got in her special brand of hypnotic work on me, all right,” he told his reflection grimly that night as he took off Mb cravat before the mirror. “But, then, she’s an exception!" John MacPherson was a. man who went out after what he wanted when he got his mind made up. He never really made up his mind about Isabel Douglas, however- —that Is, deliberately. jHe did not have time. It was a fatal attack from the very first sight of her. And when he asked her to marry him, after she had been in New York two weeks only, and she very properly protested at his haste, it plunged him into despair so deep that he made life unbearable for his servants. \ But Miss Douglas knew her own heart, too, after several years of experience In refusing numerous suitors, and she did not keep the man she found she really cared for waiting too long before she promised to marry him. “I don’t understand It in the least,” she laughed, blushing and shaking her head when she had said yes. “Neither do I,” agreed John MacPherson promptly. “And I Intend to marry you as soon as I wheedle you into naming the day, for fear you’ll change your mind.” Then he telegraphed his sister out west, who knew nothing of what had been going on in New York. Mrs. Ransom laughed and cried alternately when she got the laconic message. It said: « ■ “I have at last met Isabel. You can buy you? Hfown to wear to the wedding.”