Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 178, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 August 1918 — A WOMAN HATER [ARTICLE]

A WOMAN HATER

By M. D. WHITNEY.

“(Copyright, 1918, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) Dear Helen —li*s no use, old girl. You might as well leave me alone in my “blessed singleness” and forget you know )ne when your desire for matchmaking runs high. You see, my dear sister —no kind of girl can interest me. You have tried out every brand, all to no purpose. Horrors; I shudder, yet every time I think of that Smith- girl with the baby face, watching my every move with her adoring eyes. If I had to endure that longer than a week I’d be a dead one. And that vinegarfaced Miss Clapp, with her woman’s rights. My hair is streaked with gray today, as a result of having her inflicted on me for two days. And Miss Munyon, the heiress — Helen, where was your love for me when you Invited me to look after that damsel for a perfectly good week end? Or was it your sweet way of teaching me that all is not gold that glitters. Filled with apprehension on account of my many, narrow escapes, I must decline your kind invitation for the coming week end, and your newest protege, Miss Longley, will have to be thrust upon some other poor victim. How are the kiddos? Will run down to see them as soon as your guests have gone, and I can venture forth in safety. B.v-by, sister mine—and pardon me for being a happy confirmed bachelor. Lovingly yours, 808. “Of all the conceited, Impossible, exasperating brothers, Bob Thornton is the worst.” Helen Arnold threw the letter into the hearth fire.

That afternoon in the telegraph office of the city, however, the same Bob was doing a strange thing. He was actually staring at a very pretty vision in a pink linen suit and large pink hat. His thoughts w«ere interrupted by the young lady’s voice,. “I wish to send a telegram, please. Will you take it, to Mrs. Helen Arnold, Mpuntainville, N. H.?” “Great heavens,” exclaimed Bob — “my sister Helen —wonder who she is.” Needless to say, he waited anxiously for the message. “Dear Helen,’’ it ran. “Cannot come before six o’clock train. Will arrive Mountainville about 8:30. (Signed) “ALICE LONGLEY.” “Alice Longley Bob Thornton, you’re a fool, and everything that goes with it.” But without further reflection he grasped a pad, and a second message was sent to his sister. “Have changed my mind. Will arrive 8:30 train. “BOB.” If she still bore any'resentment for Bob’s first letter, she had ample revenge in the three days which followed. Bob was the devoted slave of Alice Longley, who with her sweet, quiet manner of refusing his every attention nearly drove -him mad. When after maneuvering for all he was worth to accomplish it, he was finally chosen as her escort for the bungalow party and dance, he was happy for the first time since his arrival. But at the last moment the children’s maid received a call to come at once to the bedside of a dying sister, and Mrs. Arnold did not know what to do. She could not stay at home, since she was the hostess of the occasion. Much to Bob’s dismay, Alice Longley sweetly asked if she might stay with the children. She would much prefer it to going to the dance, and she knew Mr. Thornton would be glad to excuse her. so a smile at Bob —there were so many other girls who were waiting to dance with him. About an hour after the departure of the party for the davice, Bob Thornton returned disconsolate looking, and angrily chewing the end of an unlighted cigar. He found Alice sitting in a big library chair —having put the youngsters to sleep, mending a pair of tiny socks. '

She was very much surprised to see him, and much more surprised, when with a sudden movement he came forard and without a word, lifted her in his arms from the big chair, and kissed her soundly on either cheek. “There,” he exclaimed, “Now I suppose you will hate me worse than ever, hut I just couldn’t help it Miss Longley—Alice please forgive me,” as he saw the look of pained indignation in her eyes—“l can only excuse myself, by telling you the truth. I love you how much only God knows, and when I came upon you suddenly, after a miserable hour of longing for you well please don’t ask me to explain any more. Qnly tell me, dear —could you. would you, let me try to make you love me. Please give me a chance.” Alice Longley’s eyes were smiling now, even though the lashes were wet. “Mr. Thornton—Bob,” she replied, "you do not need a chance. I have loved you from the first day—when I saw you in the telegraph office trying in your clumsy man’s way to disguise your curiosity over my telegram. But I had been warned of your heartlessness with women, and was determined that you should not add my name to the list of conquests.” What Bob Thornton replied to that speech, and how the rest of that evening was spent, can better be imagined than described. Mrs. Bob Thornton is a very happy bride now and when her young friends ask her for advice, she replies without fall: Give him a reasonable good■ized dose of indifference.