Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 34, Number 100, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 August 1902 — A KISS IN THE DARK [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A KISS IN THE DARK

By J. P. COUGHLAN

No excuses for bis conduct can be offered further than it was his first offense, and the wbole thing was done in an offhand, unpremeditated sort of way. Besides, Mollie Was really an attractive girl. Burton had been living with the Lowdons for a number of years and had always been regarded as one of the family, so much so, indeed, that his real position, that of a boarder, was kept In the background. The Lowdons did not like to think of themselves as “keeping boarders” and saw no reason for a descent in the social ygale simply because Jim Burton, their old friend, lived with them in this comfortable home and bore a legitimate but fixed share of the expense. Martha had been a stock feature in the Lowdon home for years when suddenly she was replaced by Mollie. The contrast was superlative. Martha, the hard faced, the stern, that martinet of the kitchen, the scourge of laxity, was a million removes from Mollie, the apple cheeked, the smiling, with Irish mischief in her eyes and the cometber on her lips. Burton thought the change splendid. At breakfast he smiled cheerfully into Mollie’s bright face In shameless, good natured admiration. What wonder, then, that three or four evenings later, when Burton was entering the house and found Mollie in the dusky hall lighting the lamp, be should tiptilt that dimpled chin and kiss the inviting lips? “That’s for your good looks, Mollie," he said and went upstairs three steps at a time. In the rear he beard a stifled shriek that died away in a soft Chuckle. As he dressed be smiled complacently at himself in the glass. Burton dined out that evening. At breakfast next morning he found a second Martha. Mrs. Lowdon apparently did not think the matter worth explanation. She had other matters on her mind. Turning to her husband, she said: “Jim must dine home this evening. I want him to meet Etta. Etta,” she continued, speaking to Burton, “is my cousin. She is going to stay with us here for a month or two. She is a charming girl. You’ll like her awfully, Jim. Now, be sure and bfe in time for dinner.”

Burton was politely Interested. He did not look forward to the prospect with any great Joy. Mrs. Lowdon’s friends were usually a duty to him and involved more attention than he was at times willing to give. His meeting with Etta Kingsley that evening, however, put matters at once on an entirely different footing. Rarely had Burton seen so much demure <Yivaciousness. A sparkle and a ripple in her laugh foretold pleasant things. Her smile was sometimes in reserve. Burton had his first acquaintance manners. He was a little slow, a trifle im-

portant and pleasantly serious. They talked books, plays, business and horses. Miss Kingsley was from Kentucky. It was a hotchpotch of conversation. Burton felt that be had acquitted himself well, but there lingered an uneasy consciousness that Miss Kingsley was “guylug” him when he talked up to the dignity of bis thir-ty-three years. “You must be awfully prlin, Mr. Burton,” she remarked suddenly, apparently apropos of nothing In particular. “Prim!” he echoed, momentarily shaken out of his self possession. “My gracious! Why do you tbiuk that?*’ “Oh, 1 don’t know. It Just flashed through my mind that never do anything frivolous.” Mrs. and Mr. Lowdon laughed, and Barton, a faint tint on his face, looked at his plate and laughed too. A few days Inter the four went to the theater. Ou the way home Miss Kingsley was fraukly condemnatory of the play. “The hero,’’ Bhe told Burton, “was. to begin with, a fool, and in the next place I’m sure he wasn’t half as good ns he was pictured. There aren’t such men living now. except It be In Kentucky, Men who pretend to that sort of standard there are in plenty. but ln‘ secret they drink more cocktails than are good for them and stay out lute at night and, I suppose, m-

t > ::. J wLm ha- mistress Isn’t lookBurton saw no implication to himself in particular and took the shot at his sex us a piece of badinage. He retorted laughingly, “You wouldn’t have him kiss her in the presence of her mistress?” Miss Kingsley had been in the bouse Just one month when Burton went through the operation of personal stocktaking. “You’re not a Ouida Admits, Jlm,“ he told hlmself, “but you seem to be a decent, fairly good looking sort of chap, according to everyday standards; you are good tempered, reasonably domesticated and willing to become more so, of a tolerable disposition and financially in a position to marry a modest maid.” When a man bolds this kind of communion with himself, it goes without saying that he is In love, and Jim waß frank to himself, at least on that question. ~

Although no definite time had been fixed upon for Miss Kingsley’s departure, Burton felt instinctively that her stay was coming- to an end. There was a premonition of farewell in the air, and, although his acquaintance was only six weeks old, he determined to take the desperate step. Now, a proposal Is a delicate and difficult matter, and Jim felt that of all the known and approved methods only one suited his temperamental and physical makeup. The romantic was out of the question, the flippant too extreme on the other side, the abrupt too unwise, the roundabout beyond his compass. Therefore he planned what he believed to be a style of his own. She was playing the piano. He was leaning negligently at the side. ‘T suppose you are looking forward to the opening of the grand opera season?” he inquired, with deliberate intention to discover the date of her departure. “No; that is one of my disappointments. I leave on Monday.” Jim was silent for awhile. It was part of his plan. “I shall be very sorry. It is a pity you will not remain in New York altogether.” —' . : ——— “Thank you. You are very kind.” This, with a frank smile into his eyes, disconcerted Jim somewhat. He had expected a reply with a “why” In it. He tried it again. “I wish you could remain.” “But I can’t.” “You can.” “How?” “I should like the right to keep yon here.” “Is this a proposal?” Jim nodded. “Well, I am very much flattered indeed, and I think I would like to accept you—now, keep your distance, please—if”— “If! Yes! If what?” “If you comply with the conditions. Do you drink?” “No.” “Good! You don’t ’ stay out late at night?” •• “No.” “Excellent! And, I suppose, If I married you, you’d never kiss the maid?” “Never!” said Jim fervently. “Stay where you are, please. Have you ever kissed the maid?” “What! Kissed her?” cried Burton in. righteous indignation at the imputation on his taste. “No! Mollie, I mean. I hear she was a. very attractive girl.” Burton was about to flounder into a confession and an explanation, but a twinkle in Etta’s eye saved him. “No,” he declared stoutly, “I never kissed Mollie. I kissed you!” He had her In his arms, and she capitulated. “I never debited up that kiss against your character,” she told "because I knew from the way you did it that it was the first attempt.” And now Jim is wondering how she knew.

MISS KINGSLEY WAS FRANKLY CONDEMNATORY OF THE PLAY.