Jasper County Democrat, Volume 11, Number 84, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 March 1909 — Retained In the Role. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Retained In the Role.

By CARL WILLIAMS.

Copyrighted. 1909, by Associated Literary Press.

Melrose was agog with excitement. The local billposter was hanging the paper of the Denham Repertoire company for a three night run. And Maggie Denham balled from Melrose. “Margaret Denham” she was Wiled, but Melrose recognized her. It was the first time that what Melrose called “a real theater troupe” had visited the little town. This in Itself would have meant much, but Maggie in addiUon created an epoch In town history. Melrose could not know that she was to be a star only for this brief engagement in Melrose. Maggie bad happened to mention that she bad been born in Melrose, and the astute manager bad changed the name of the company from the Metropolitan to Denham Repertoire company for the three night stay. He well knew the value of a local name in a small town. Occasionally Maggie had let fall some scrap of Information as to her departure from the town that.told the rest of the old story of the girl who bad run away from home to go upon the stage. Maggie’s story differed from most, for she had succeeded in achieving her ambition. She had become a fairly

useful player of parts In the smaller companies. This was her second season with the Metropolitans, and she smiled confidently when Quinlin. the manager, asked her if she felt strong enough to play the star part for three days. It involved a little extra rehearsal, bnt Maggie was delighted. She would show Tom Chambers and the rest of Melrose that she bad made a success. Tom came ahead of the rest of Melrose. because there bad been a time when they two were almost engaged, and she still thought tenderly of those courtship days. She looked about eagerly when the company arrived; buL though every one else in town appeared to have come to the train to stare curiously at Maggie Denham’s troupe, Tom was not there. With a curious sense of blankness Maggie climbed into the ramshackle bus that was to convey the company to the hotel Her triumphant entrance into her home town had gone for naught just because one man was not there. ~r~ ' i

She was angry and surprised to realize that she still cared more for Chambers than she bad ever admitted when he had tried to win her. She had not long to wait, however, for information about the recreant one. Presently a string of callers came to the hotel, and, All of the friends of her school days crowded the hotel parlor, all talking at once. From the babel of voices Maggie gathered that Tom had left town the day before with the evident purpose of avoiding her. The blood throbbed in her temples. It was to give Tom a lesson that she wanted to show to Melrose how well she had succeeded. Now he would not witness her triumph, and she turned strangely depressed until the manager. versed In the handling of the erratic omen of the stage, sensed the situation. “Anyhow, you can do your best.” Quinlin reminded her, “and leave behind a record’that he will be prond of.” “And' who may ‘he* be?” demanded Maggie truculently. "I don’t know,” confessed Qolnlln promptly, “but there is usually a ‘he’ somewhere, and since he does not seem to be around I thought you might like my suggestion.” # Maggie waved- him off with a'jesting remark, but her heart was lighter. Here was something that she could do. So it happened that even her fellow players wondered that evening at the brilliancy with .which she played her part “Ton’ll land on Broadway yet,” they assured her, but even this promise of

hlmseir sufficiently to explain bis repudiation of Ronald Dever. “It is a queer coincidence,” he said, “that you should have spoken to me Just when I was dreaming of the little old town in which we both grew to manhood.”,. He bad himself so well in band now that; he spoke almost dreamily. “Of course I was thinking most of the Rlvrgp’ borne, where we both used to visit. Yon probably know that I was engaged to Elsie Rivers when that fortune—which Is the cornerstone of my wealth today—was left me, and I was obliged to go abroad to claim it.” The other gave a startled glance. “No; I never knew that!” he said. Berresford pressed bis lips tightly together before he spoke again. “It was midwinter when I left—springtime when I returned. And, of course. I went at once to our old home town. Elsie was out, her mother said, somewhere around the grounds. I went immediately to our old trystlng place in Lilac lane. There was the same familiar walk, all odorous with bloom and the moonlight falling in a thousand shifting lights and shadows, Just a« 1 always loved to remember”— His voice broke curiously. His companion, a slight, dark man, younger than he, looked at him with frank anxiety In his eyes. “She was there,” went on Berresford. “So was a man whose arm encircled her as they walked. Her head almost touched his shoulder. Her drooping face I could not see distinctly, but the height and walk were those of Elsie, whom I had called my Elsie. I believe,” with a sudden chill change of tone, “that is all I need explain, Dever!” “No,” said Dever quietly, “It isn’t quite all. Who was her escort? Who was the man?” A great wrath shook Berresford from head to feet. He whirled around upon his companion, white to the lips. “You!” he cried. “You, Ronald Dever! I saw you distinctly. You were the man!” Dever spoke in a level and commanding voice. “Come! Let us walk still a little farther. Neither you nor I can afford to Invite public comment. I hope to prove to you that you have been mistaken.” Startled, but incredulous, Berresford accepted the suggestion. “What made you turn, like another Enoch Artieh, and leave the place?” Dever asked.

“Because, being supplanted in my absence, I was another Enbch Arden!” came the reply, passionately spoken. “Listen. After you went abroad Elsie’s cousin came to live with her. They were of the same height and general appearance, although when considered together they do not look alike. I fell in love with Laura. She has been my wife for three years, and—a mighty sweet wife she is. Will you dine with us tonight, Berresford?” Berresford flushed and trembled like a girl. “It was she—not Elsie—that I saw with you?" “Assuredly, as you might have discovered had you been less impulsive in your flight. He mentioned their address. ‘'We’ll expect you at 6.” “No, no; I must go at once to Elsie—if she will listen, if she will forgive me. But there may now be some other person, some other claim.” “There isn’t any one but you. I don’t think there ever would or will be. But come to dinner at 6, as I said. Elsie is just now visiting at our home.” “What?’ shouted Berresford. “Give me that card with your address—quick! HI. cabby! Double fare if you make good time! Walt until 6, indeed. Well, I guess not!” Then he was being driven swiftly southward, and for him all the world —the gracious, sweet, delicious, springtime world—was full of the waving of lilac plumes, the prescient fragrance of lilac blossoms.

“I'M GLAD HE DIDN'T SEE ME LAST NIGHT AS THE AD ADVENTURRESS."