OCR Interpretation

The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, May 08, 1915, NOON EDITION, Image 19

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1915-05-08/ed-1/seq-19/

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smiled and took up her work again.
When at last her employer returned
she was as demure and tranquil as
he had always known her to be.
James Martyn was not very old for
a millionaire. In fact, he was barely
40, though his serious demeanor gave
him the appearance of an older man.
his interest in his secretary was pure
ly altruistic. He had introduced her
to his mother, and Miss Summers was
a frequent guest at the beautiful
house on Conecticut avenue which he
had built for her. It was said that
the seriousness of his outlook upon
life was the reason why he had never
married He had never found a wom
an with the qualities of soul he
Miss Summers had been invited to
his mother's house that nighf. Long
ago James Martyn had told the gen
tle old lady of her criminal past. And
to his amazement his mother, who
had always disapproved of his socio
logical experiment, did not turn a
"You see, James," she had said, "af
sweet girl like that must necessarily
have .been the victim of circum
stances," But James Martyn had wondered
what his mother would say when he
told her that he intended to ask Edna
Summers to become his wife.
For he had been growing increas
ingly conscious that she was the one
woman in the world for him. She
had entered into all his-plans with
such alacrity, her sympathy and
charity were overowing for the poor
social victims whom he was redeem-
intr Anil hp Vnow that fhft p-lrl wna
$ by no means indifferent to him.
And so he asked her that evening
on the way home. Edna, startled and
yet flattered, faltered. She could not
"Will you, take time to think it
over?" he asked. "
"Oh, yes," she answered, timidly.
That was alL But it was an embar
rassing evening. However, the em- 1
barrassment was nothing to that of
the next morning, when the Sunday
papers were opened.
For accounts of the visit of the
committee filled the front pages. His
petty secretary, as Miss Edna was
openly labeled, was called "the worst
woman in Boston." Her photograph
was displayed in proximity with
James Martyn's.
Miss Summers was not yet down.
Hastily mother and son scanned the
dreadful displays.
"One of those confounded sociolo
gists must have been a reporter!"
growled the millionaire. 'l am so
sorry for the girl, mother, and more
for you."
"Why for me, James?" inquired the
old lady quietly.
Rich man that he was and dictator
in his office, James Martyn felt like a
small boy before the glance of those
mild blue eyes.
"Because I mean to ask her to be
my wife," he answered. "In fact I
have asked her already, and she is to
le.t me know shortly."
"If she accepts you, James, it will
be the best thing that could happen to
you," answered the old lady.
"Mother! You aren't ashamed of
"Not a bit. It will make a man of
you, James," she returned peremp
torily. And her look was so suave
and piercing that the millionaire was
utterly at a loss.
They hid the papers and a dreary
day followed. Too embarrassed to
speak much to Miss Edna, James
Martyn skulked like a schoolboy in
his library until late in the afternoon.
Once, emerging, he saw Miss Sum
mers poring over a newspaper which
she had purchased that morning. She
knew, then.
He went up to her. "I am so sor
ry," he said. '
"Never mind, Mr. Martyn," an
swered the girl.
"But I never dreamed that the
facts would get into the newspapers,"
he went on remorsefully. "I "

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