Motion Picture Magazine (Aug 1914-Jan 1915)

IN QUEST OF A STORY 31 gently, " Thank you, sir, oh, very much." "Not at all," returned Barnes, with the air of the habitual philanthropist. "Not at — at all. Er — could you — would you, I mean — care to sit on this bench awhile ? I 'd like to talk to you — awfully well." ' ' Just a very little while, ' ' the girl assented. "I — I haven't much time to spare — you see " "Fact," agreed Barnes, congenially; "business is bad, isn't it?" This with a covetous glance at the dollar-inhabited cup. The blind girl bit her lower lip sharply. It almost seemed that the imp of an unseemly mirth gripped her; then she said, sadly, "What goes wrong today may be different to-morrow — and you have been so — so very kind. ' ' "Not at all," again proffered Barnes, feeling her gratitude headily sweet, "not at all — but would you care to give me your address? I'm anxious to see you again — I want to know how you make out; please" — noting the flush rise on the lovely, patrician face — "please dont think I'm a — a duffer or anything like that — taking unfair advantage, you know. I really mean it — from my heart. I do want to see you again. ' ' The blind girl rose. She felt the young importunate was approaching realism too rapidly. She could not account for the unbidden response in her own heart. She felt as if she had met, all unawares, a kindred soul, one who spoke the same language, one who, tritelv enough, "understood her." "My address is 14 Barick Street," she told him, ' ' top floor. Thank you — and good-by." Long after she had gone, Barnes sat on, then he rose to his feet with a long breath. ' ' Gee ! " he whistled boyishly, "I haven't dreamed these dreams since the kid days — somehow they seem good. What a face — what a voice — Jove, what a wonder-girl ! ' ' Barnes traversed the sweepy drives in silence, then he halted sharply. "Lord!" he called piously, "if I haven't got my story — what better? The lovely blind girl — the motors swirling by — the empty cup — the lade-das— and all that. The public likes contrasts like that — the idle rich and the other side, strongly put. I'll mix up some personal stuff and give it a mighty punch. It might even help her — who knows? Hey! Good God !" A tiny, beruffled girl-child sprang from her abstracted nurse straight in the pathway of one of the speeding motors. Barnes leaped with old-time college skill and pulled the little one from under the very tread of the encroaching wheels. It was a daring leap and the palpitant maid was garrulous with praise. "She's Doctor. Sargent 's baby, ' ' she explained, ' ' and he'll be just crazy to hear of it. He'd never get over not being able to thank you — please come along with us, sir — it's only up two blocks." Barnes knew who Doctor Sargent was, just as he knew who every notable and next-door-to-notable was in the metropolis. He never knew whether his ulterior motive in going was formulated then or not. At all events, he went, and the great eye specialist thanked him with a choking gratitude that proved how deep a niche the wee, beruffled person held in her father 's heart. "And you must let me prove my gratitude," he ended, smilingly; "we live in a world of externals, you know — and we sometimes appreciate external manifestations. Pray do not be offended." Barnes shook his head at the waddy roll extended. "No, thanks," he declined, cheerfully, "I'd rather not if you dont mind ; but there is something you can do for me, doctor — and it would mean more than anything else." "I shall be glad of the opportunity." "It's the case of a little friend of mine — 14 Barick Street — top floor — she's blind, sir, and in pretty poor straits. If anything could be done " "We shall see," the surgeon said; "this is an age of miracles, and all