Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 207, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 September 1915 — TENDER AND TRUE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

TENDER AND TRUE

By VICTOR RADCLIFFE.

A girl stood looking out of an office window of the great implement plant at Acton. The busy seen a in the spreading yards of the vast hive of industry seemed to fix her attention, but this was only in semblance. Hester Gray was thinking—thinking back. Hers was a beauty so faultless, that she did not appear to Mandell Wade, senior partner of the great Arm that owned the works, like the conventional type of young womanhood. “She belongs to the world of pedestals of catalogues,” was the thought that flashed through his mind as his eyes first fell upon her. “I regret that we cannot find a place for you/*Miss Gray," he spoke aloud. “We are about to remove our office headquarters to Chicago, and a new manager will engage the force at that point.”, Hester turned to go. She had applied tor a position in the drafting department of the great plant. It had been a decided “come-down” for her, for she had for two years enjoyed some celebrity and a fair income from a book publishing house remodeling ancient illustrations. She could copy or amplify in this field capably, but had not received any real artistic education. The publishing house had failed. She had come to Acton to rest, her little stock of money had run low. and rather liking the rural en vtronment of the place, she had hoped to secure employment. She had been in a bitter mood when she applied for the employment She was sorely disappointed now. “One moment, if you please,” spoke Mr. Wade, and she halted. “As I entered the room my eye was struck by your pose at that window. If you will repeat the same and allow me to call our photographer, I will give you a check for one hundred dollars, the company to have the right to use the picture in its literature.” “How dare you!” exclaimed Miss ■Gray, flushing crimson. “You ask me to commercialise my identity on a

par with a face bleach testimonial or a footlight favorite!” “You mistake me;” Mr, Wade hastened to say. “Your face has strength and character As I saw you at the window there, its calm and power seemed typical of the substantial practicability of our business here The artist will amplify not your personality, but the featural type only." He was respectful, but businesslike. A hundred dollars meant a great deal to Hester. She agreed and posed for the photographer. Hester was handed a check for the money promised. “If you should locate in Chicago," said Mr. Wade, “advise me, and he handed her his card. “I shall remember your name and I will advise our manager there favorably regarding you.” “Thank you,” said Hester, and secretly felt grateful toward this liberal beneficiary. She experienced a sense of humility as she left the works and her hand crushed the check into creases. With second thought, however, she felt rather pleased at the plain, practical admiration of the business man. Strength, character, not feeble flitting beauty. This man of affairs had paid & tribute to elements she cherished. “Of what use have they been to me in getting on in the world!” soliloqulzzed Hester bitterly that eventide, as she sat at the window of her humble home. She was, however, at least peaceful of mind, and comfortable. The hundred dollars meant security and a basis to work on for some weeks to come. The retrospective mood was upon her, however. What had her life been? What of visions of ambition had materially accrued? She dreamed of the long past — grouping about one central point, the incidents of which bad not been out of her waking mind so much as a single hour through ten years. She vu a girl of twelve again, poor, barefoot and plainly clad. She stood beside a little willow-fringed brook. She held one hand tightly closed, meanwhile with the other dabbing her tear-stained cheeks. She was waiting for the only being in the world who had ever been interested in hef.'the only one she ever cared for. He came with a rush, Irwin Dale, a handsome, manly lad of fifteen, too proud to cry, but tears were in his eyes as he choked out the words. j

*1 had to scheme to get to you. Ob, It* > good-by, my deer, my deer,” end the boy and girl. Innocent, artless, they stood clasped in one another's arms, their tears commingling. “They gave me presents,” sobbed the boy. “A watch, a ring, and ties from my cousins, but they are glad I am going away to make my way in life alone, as they call it. Oh, all their hollow gifts are as nothing to a kiss from you, whom I love! love! love!” “I have no gift of value to give you, Ifwin," spoke the girl, “except this. See, it is a mottled lucky stone,* and I have put a bit of ribbon through it, and I’ve wept over it, and kissed it, and prayed over it, and it will bring you fortune, oh, sure, fortune!” “I will wear it always, I will cherish it as the dearest gifL in life!” cried Irwin. "Then, when it has brought me fortune, I will bring it back to you and ask you to be my wife —I swear It. And then some of his friends called him and he tore himself away, waving his hand, blinded with tears. She had never seen him since. Her father had died, she had gone to the city, had found work, had scraped and starved to get an education, had seen many hard, disappointing experiences, and her ideal had never faded, but hope had died within her. Three days later a brisk, energetic young man who had entered the office of Mr. Wade stared fixedly at a large, new photograph on the desk of his chief. The young man was the special sales negotiator of the firm, and he drew the largest salary of any employee in the establishment. He rushed out to find Wade. He was so much of a favorite about the plant that he was hail-fellow well-met all around. “Wade!’ he cried, running up against Wade, "the photo on your desk?” “Who is she?” questioned Wade. “No, where is she? How—when— ’* “Hold on —I’ll explain. You know her?” “I have been looking vainly for her for four years and —I love her!” “Ha! bum! what a romance!” and Wade told his story. Hester Gray was packed up and ready to leave for the city that evening, when her landlady summoned her to the parlor to meet a caller. She crossed Its threshold, halted spellbound, swayed and paled. “Hester!” spoke Irwin Dale, and he held his arms extended. “You —you!” she wavered weakly. He reached within his vest. He drew forth the lucky stone! “I have brought it back to you as I promised," he said simply. I have been looking for you ever since the good fortune you wished for me came double-fold!” “At last! at last!” her weary heart beat out. “All the years, Hester —longing for you, hoping for you!” he uttered, hia eyes glad and content, “and now Hester —never to part again!” (Copyright. 1915, by W. G. Chapman.)

Hester Gray Was Thinking—Thinking Back.