The Evening Herald

THEY WERE JUST TOO MEAN.

This Was the Trouble About Jim and Myra
and the Gloomy Girl In Red.

"The world is hollow," remarked the
girl in red.

"It is," gloomily assented the girl whose
new gown does not fit, "but I don't see
how you ever found it out."

"By accident, dear. It happened the
day after the cards were sent out. I had a
note from Dan saying that he must see
me once more before I was Jim's wife. Of
course I didn't really care for Dan, but it
is soothing to one's vanity to know that
the best man is dying of envy of the bride-
groom, who has no idea of it."

"So you said you would see him?"

"I did. I felt that it would do Jim no
harm if Dan did tell me once more that
life was a blank without me, and it was
really my last chance too. Still I didn't
dare to let him come to the house."

"But where else could you see him?"

"At Myra's. She is to be maid of honor,
you know, and Jim used to be quite devot-
ed to her, so I knew she'd never dare to
tell on me lest people would think her
jealous."

"When I want advice, I shall know
where to come for it."

"Very well, do. Well, I didn't send her
word that I was coming, for I didn't want
anything down on paper. As luck would
have it, just as I was starting Jim sent up
a box of roses and a melancholy note say-
ing that a business engagement he couldn't
shirk would prevent him from coming up
that evening.

"You were in luck."

"So I thought. Well, I just threw my-
self on Myra's mercy. She wasn't a bit
pleased, as I could see, but she submitted
with the best grace she could. She said
she would keep everybody out of the li-
brary so we could have a long, quiet even-
ing, and not to worry about her, as she
would probably have company."

"That was nice of her."

"Oh, very nice. Dan came early, and
we had a perfectly lovely time. He begged
me to elope the day before the wedding,
recited two poems about his despair and
hinted at suicide. Oh, it was splendid! I
cried myself almost to a jelly. At about
half past 10 I really couldn't stand it any
longer, so I told Dan that we must go in
and speak to Myra, for the front parlor
was so quiet that her caller had evidently
failed to come. So, after another eternal
farewell, we went in."

"Well?"

"It wasn't well—it was ill! Myra's
caller was there. He was Jim. He was
holding her hand and bidding her goodby
forever! Oh, was ever a poor girl so cruelly
deceived as I?"—Chicago Tribune.