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Show i' Wanted: A Position Without Love iT Fit were possible for an angol to ' JL do a stenographer, and if the ' angel should disguise her identity iden-tity in a trig little business Buit and j wear her wings on a jaunty hat in-V in-V 1'stead of on her dear shoulders like a J butterfly, then that angel was Phyllis when she opened Lawyer Stebbins' door at half-past eight on Monday morning. Lawyer Charles Stebbins cleared his throat and began a desperate search for some imaginary papers on his desk when he greeted her. It was that crlBpness, that genteel, polite crisp-ness, crisp-ness, of her good roomings that always al-ways disconcerted her employer. He strove to break down the re- serve by adding jovial remarks about the weather, and things in general with his morning greetings, but Phyl-v Phyl-v lis replied to them with the same courteous but discouraging chilliness. The spring days melted into warmer warm-er ones, and the angel continued her "? daily routine work, filing reports, tak ing dictation in shorthand, transcribing transcrib-ing it on the typewriter, and answering answer-ing the telephone. Her manner and voice remained the same, polite, but always clothed in an impenetrable reserve. re-serve. "I have brought you some roses some of the first ones from my gar- ' den," the young attorney ventured one ' "bright warm morning." These warm days are wonderful," he continued, ' standing by her desk. " Phyllis thanked him graciously 5 and praised the fragrance of the roses. Then she placed them in a vase, and the subject was dropped. She did not "vr carry them home with her at the end IM of the day, as her employer had hoped she would. It may have been the stimulating effect gained from the vigorous spring breeze one day, or it may have been the new blue linen dress that urged him courageously on, when lawyer Stebbins rose abruptly from his chair and walked straight to Phyllis' desk. '. "Miss Lawrence, stop your work just a moment, please," he began, placing a restraining hand over the busy ones that mechanically struck the type keys. 'I 1 could never seem to tell you before, and I'm a very plain man, and not much e;iven to sentiment, but I love you, and if you think you could even care a little for W mo 1 would try so hard to make you happy, I ." He paused. His voice had grown tremulous and he could not seem to trust it. It was the same boyish voice that had pleaded and won him hits first i law case. She turned from him and nibbled the end of her pencil, with her head slightly inclined forward. At last she turned and faced him. "Mr. Stebbins, you have been very kind to me, and I have enjoyed my 1 work here tremendously, but my am- . bltions lie in other directions. I have J no time for love or sentiment in my life. I am working for an object "i& that object is success in some cat I thank you for the compliment you have just paid me, and will always respect re-spect your confidence. Now after what has just occurred, I fear I Bhall have to ask you to acept my resignation." The door closed softly for the last time after Phyllis ,and lawyer Stebbins Steb-bins turned again to his desk with his head bowed. He had won his first law case, but the first love case was a failure. Angels were more difficult. By Gwen Sears in Bridgeport Life. |