Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 174, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 August 1917 — THE BLESSED FOG [ARTICLE]

THE BLESSED FOG

By ELENE LOEB.

It was Elsa’s first visit to her brother since the death of his wife and his subsequent removal to a distant city.' Slowly she walked up and down the length of the railway station waiting room, scrutinizing the face of each newcomer. Surely he had received the telegram advising him of her Intended arrival, but for the twentieth time she glanced at the clock, which now audibly bore witness to the fact that she had waited exactly half an hour, and still there was no sign of Robert. Balling a taxi, Elsa ordered the driver to take her to her brother’s address. The fog was hanging like ajpall over the entire city. Vague, shadowy forms moved on the sidewalks to dissolve! upon near approach, into men and women. The gongs of the trolley cars clanged Incessantly. The taxi was creeping along at a snail’s pace. At last he halted before a house, made sure of the number and held the taxi door open. “Here you are, lady---number 459.” Elsa mounted tlje steps and pressed the bell. A middle-aged woman, evidently the housekeeper, answered the summons. “Is Mr. Wilson in?” Elgp inquired. “Mr, Wilson?” the woman echoed) and then after a slight pause, hardly perceptible to the waiting girl, "No, ma’am, he is out of town.” —j “Out of town? When did he go? Didn’t he get my telegram? Pm hlq sister.” “I don’t know anything about a telegram. ma’am. He went last night and won’t be home before tomorrow evening. I think he said he would be home in time for dinner. But come right In, ma’anu The master often speaks of his sister.” Elsa was made comfortable for the night After breakfast she Inspected the house with the housekeeper. “Now, Mrs. Clark, I want flowers; lotsof them. Red carnations, please; they are my brother’s favorites. Then we’ll plan tonight’s dinner. And, oh, Mrs. Clark, I have an idea! As long as my brother doesn’t know Tm here, let us make a surprise out of it Yes? Don’t say a word .about me when he comes in, but the minute he sits down to the table extinguish the lights and relight them the minute you hear my voice.” Dressing herself carefully, she came downstairs just in time to hide behind the draperies as a key turned in the lock. Firm steps paused for a moment, then were heard going upstairs. When they came down again, Mrs. Clark hurried forward to greet her master. As the man sat down, the dining room was suddenly plunged into darkness, but before he could utter an exclamation there was the light swishing of feminine wear just as a little soft hand was pressed firmly over his eyes and a pair of exquisite lips met his In a hearty kiss. Then a disguised voice called out: "Now, sir, guess who lam!” At that moment the lights were switched on and fell full on the decidedly blonde head of the man. Instantly the girl’s hand dropped to her side and she started back In astonishment. This man wasn’t her brother—her brother had black hair! “I thought you were my brother," Elsa stammered, as soon as she found her voice. The man had risen to his feet “I am Wilson Fairbanks. I am afraid there is some mistake. Won’t you sit down, please, and we’ll surely straighten It out.” - The girl’s face blanched. “I am Elsa Wilson. I came here last night from Detroit. I expected my brother, Robert Wilson, to meet me at the station, but evidently the telegram was miscarried and nobody was there. I called a taxi and the man brought me here. This to 459 Waterloo street, IsnTltr ’ The man’s face cleared. “Waterloo street? That accounts for it This is Cambridge .street. Waterloo to the next street below. If you will allow me, PH take you there after dinner.” “Oh, no, thank you. I couldn’t think of staying another minute. I really don’t know how to apologize. It was a stupid blunder on account of the fog, I suppose, and —” The man stopped her protestations. "The only apology I’ll accept to that we go over for your brother, and you both have dinner with me tonight.” In a few moments they reached the brother’s house. Upon investigation It developed that the servant had torgotten to deliver the message and it was even then lying on the mantle under the clock. Robert Wilson thoroughly enjoyed his favorite dishes, but Elsa ate sparingly and with downcast eyes. The evening passed nil too soon, tor one at least. "Come to see us,” Mr. Wilson Invited as they were making their adieus. Mr. Fairbanks looked at Elsa. "May I?” his eyes asked, and before the girl could withdraw her glance her eyes had flashed back the answer. (Copyright, 1317. toy the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)