Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 237, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 October 1915 — LOVE IN A FOG [ARTICLE]

LOVE IN A FOG

By FRANK M. BICKNELL.

Judson Maxwell always gave something to the blind match seller at the corner —for luck, he said. And Barney O’Keefe, that husky, cheery beggar, always wished his honor good and plenty, and then a power more of it atop of that. Maxwell was lucky in being, well born, in having his share of good looks, and in being able to spare from his prosperous business enough leisure to follow Prudence Hale across the Atlantic. But he had not yet been lucky enough to persuade her to be bis wife. In the person of Albert Pierce, Maxwell had a formidable rival. As a fair-minded man Maxwell would have freely admitted that Pierce was quite as desirable a match for Prudence as he himself was; but as the young lady had steadily refrained from showing a preference for either suitor the two were now in London for the purpose of further urging their respective suits. All efforts at a viva voce declaration having been adroitly baffied by the still noncommittal fair one, they had finally come to the following gentleman’s agreement: Each was to lay his heart, hand and fortune at Prudence’s feet by letter and the two sealed proposals were to be mailed in the same box at the samel time, namely, nine o’clock p. m. Monday, November 25. Now as a matter of fact Miss Prudence was honestly in doubt as to whether she cared more for Maxwell than she did for Pierce. She rather thought—indeed, she felt reasonably sure—she would eventually find her life’s happiness in becoming the wife of one of them, but which? Twice, thrice, she re-read .each letter and strove heroically with her indecison quite in vain. By and by, however, as the fog without thickened, there came to her —curiously enough—the glimmering of an idea. The Hales had taken apartments in Sackville street. Maxwell was staying at a big new hostelry in Northumberland avenue and Pierce at a famous old one in Brook street. It thus happened that the routes -the two young men would have to traverse in reaching her from their hotels were about equally long and also about equally devious. In pursuance of her idea —an idea which might or might not lead to satisfactory results—she called up Maxwell on the telephone. “I have your letter, Jud," she told him, “yours and Bert’s. Listen carefully. You will please leave your hotel this afternoon at three o’clock precisely, and start for this house on foot. Walk the entire distance. I shall telephone similar instructions to Bert. You are to find your way to me through the fog, and the one who arrives first —well, I won’t promise anything now, but leave that for this afternoon —if you don’t both get lost in the fog.” The fog had thickened to a “peasoup” consistency, and vehicular traffic was practically at a standstill when at 3:27 p. m-, the Hale’s parlor maid brought Prudence a card, and announced : “A gentleman to see you, miss.” Prudence drew a long breath and her heart began to beat with rather more than normal rapidity as she took the card and glanced at its inscription. Was she glad or sorry to read the name of Judson Maxwell? Strange though it may seem, she' was not yet sure of herself. She was conscious, however, of wondering that he had been able to get to her so soon, through a fog of almost midnight darkness, and also of dimly fancying that his greater love had served him as a guide. "Prudence!” He appeared at the door evidently in a fever of suspense, then, seeing her alone, he came forward eagerly and took her hands in his. "Prudence,” he repeated, “I am first?” "Yes,” she replied, "you are first;” and now her unruly heart certainly was thumping at a scandalous rate. Out of the dark fog light seemed suddenly to have broken. "Are you—aren’t you—glad?” he asked breathlessly. “I —I —think —perhaps—I—am,” she answered rather haltingly. “Aren’t you sure?” he demanded reproachfully. Gently she withdrew her hands from his clasp, and raising them, put them about his neck, then shyly drew his face down toward her own, now crimsoning with color that appeared to him of divine loveliness. She didn’t say she was sure, but —she didn’t need to. Pierce came about two hours later—he had gone badly astray in the fog—but he arrived in time to offer his congratulations, and to add, handsomely, that as the best man had won the bride he hoped to be "best man” at the wedding. **•••• • “Well, Barney, you brought me the finest kind of luck; you were a friend in need that time If ever there was one.” “Sure, yer honor, ’tls proud an’ glad I am I could help ye, though ’twas nothing at all I done worth mention. With me goin* over the route an’ right past the young teddy’s house twice a day, gettin’ here an’ back ag’in to me own home, ’twas as easy as winkin’.” Yes, Maxwell always gave something to the blind match-seller for luck, and long had Barney reason to remember the most profitable match he had ever had anything to do with negotiating. A '■. * i ■ ■ . ■