Jasper County Democrat, Volume 8, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 November 1905 — Parshall’s Waitress [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Parshall’s Waitress

By Dorothy Bayard

No one ever found out just why the 1:20 train from Shadyside happened to arrive on time. Such a thing never had been heard of before, and it certainly had not happened since, but Rensselaer Parshall, taking advantage of the train’s well established reputation, arrived at the station at half after 1 and found there would be no train until 3 o’clock. “But they told me that the train never was on time,” he spluttered to the station agent “Not since the road’s been built” agreed that functionary, “but she came In on time today. Maybe”—consolingly—“the three ten ’ll be on time too.” Parshall strolled out upon the station platform. It was his first visit east in

three years, and he had run out to see his sister. This suburban arrangement was a new thing to him, and he wished now that he had remained to lunch. It was too late to go back. Across the street there was a bakery, with a saloon on either side. He decided that the bakery looked the most Inviting, and he strolled across. If was a clean, well kept little place, and he sat down at one of the white covered tables with a sigh of relief. He had been accustomed to roughing It on the plains, but now that he was back east he wanted all the comforts. “Bring me a steak, with rolls and coffee and fried potatoes,” he ordered when he became conscious that the waitress stood beside him. “Steak, potatoes, rolls and coffee,” repeated the waitress. Parshall jumped up so suddenly that he overturned his chair. “You here, Nan?” he cried. “Has it come io this?” “I am the waitress here, very much at Mr. Parshall’s service,” she said demurely, and sped away to give the order. Parshall gasped. He had gone wesj because he could not offer a heart with no fortune to the daughter of David Kent. Now Nan Kent was a waitress in a bakery restaurant In a suburban town. He wondered why his sister had not told him of her misfortune. Susie had known why he went away. He swung around In his seat, but Nan was not in sight, and he had to wait patiently until she reappeared with a tray on which his lunch was set out. “Don't go away,” he cried hoarsely as she set down the dishes. “I want to talk to you. When did this happen?" “I only came here yesterday,” she said evenly. “It's a very nice place.” “Why didn’t you write and tell me?” he asked, bewildered. “Mr. Parshall forgets that he left me no address When he went away.” “Don’t,” be pleaded. “You must know why I went away.” She was silent. Parshall made a pretense of cutting bis meat, but he could not eat. Presently he spoke again. “You used to call me Ren,” he reminded. “That,” sha said coldly, “was some time ago.” “And have you forgotten me so that I Seem like a stranger?” “When one goes away without eveu a farewell I can only suppose that something has occurred to mar the one time friendship.” “And you could not realize that It was because I cared so much that I dared not?” he pleaded. /’Did you suppose that I—that no one else cared ?’’ Her voice broke a little. “And you did care?” he asked softly. “It hurts me to think that you could leave In that fashion.” “But I could not ask you to go with me.” “No?” There was just n trace of contempt in her tones. “You were rich,” he explained. “They would have said that I was marrying you for your money.” “That,” she suggested, “would not have lasted long.” “Now,” he said triumphantly, "I can ask you for your hand, and, getting only that, get what Is worth more to

me than the millions your father used to possess.” "Yes?” she admitted inquiringly. “And your answer?” he pressed. “I think,” she said, “if I were asked I should say no.” Parshall’s face fell. “Nan,” he said softly, “the night before I left, your father said that he would never give his daughter to any one save a man as rich as himself. It was said conversationally, but the personal application was too pointed to be ignored.” “And you went away, not caring about me, not even giving me a chance to say good by?” she pressed. “But your father said your sentiments were the same as his own. How was I to know?” “ ‘Faint heart ne’er won fair lady,’ ” she quoted. “I know it,” he said humbly. “That was my error once. This time I shall not make the same mistake; Now I am going to carry you, by force, if necessary, to the nearest minister.” “But the store!” she cried. “Never mind the store. Let the proprietor take care of it” “But she is ill,” demurred Nan. “Won’t you wait, Ren?” “If you’ll promise to marry me when the store closes,” he promised. “You see,” she explained, “Mrs. Bedall is ill, and that’s why I have taken charge. I belong to the church guild.” “Then you’re not a regular waitress?” “I’ve been waiting for three years, dear,” she whispered softly, and Parshall understood. “After thia,” he promised, “you shall wait upon me, not for me." And he sealed the promise with a kiss.

“AND HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ME SO THAT I SEEM LIKE A STRANGER?”