Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1890-02-22

ri lady who gave him the invitation.
u He had always been a fayorite oil
hcrs since the time when he sold the meadow,
and earlier. when he had just left Eton for the
superior independence of the university; and
IN this busy Paris. crowded with strange faces,
she had been pleased to meet with a familiar
face. face associated with the cloudless years
Of her first marriage. Everything was dear to
her that brought back the memory of tina,
time.
Was she happy with her second husband:
No. she was not; unless gratitude and placid
submission to the decree OF fate mean happi-
ness.
She had drifted into this second marriage
upon the strong tide OF Ambrose Arden's pas
sionate love-a love which had gathered force
with each long year of waiting, and which had
become power that no ordinary woman could
resist. Such a passion, so exceptional in its
patient endurance, its intense concentration,
will compel love, or at least the surrender of
liberty, and the submission to woman's destiny,
which is, for the most part, to belong TO some
one stronger than herself.
She had submitted to this mastery, and she
was grateful for that devoted affection which
knew no wayering, which had lost none of its
romantic intensity with the waning of the
honeymoon. No woman could be needless of
such love as this, from such man as Ambrose
Arden, and his wife was deeply touched by his
idolatry and gave him back all that woman
can give whose heart is cold marble. Ten
derness, Difference, companionship she could
give, and she gave them, bit the love she had
lavished on Robert Hatreli was fire that had
burnt out. 1t was not in Ambrose Arden's
power to rekindle the flame.
Never since the first year of her widowhood
had her thoughts REQUIRED so necessarily to the
past as they had done since her second mar
riage. In her life with her daughter, they two
Is sole companions. something of her girlish
gayety had returned to her. She had become
almost a girl again in adapting herself to a girl
companion. In her anxiety to keep the burden
OF sOrrow of those youthful shoulders she had
shaken of the shadow OF her own sad mem
ories, and had given herself up to glrlhood's
small pleasures and frivolous interests. But
since her n:arriaGe-since her chief companion
had been Ambrose Arden and not Daisy-a deep
cloud of melancholy had come down upon her
mind The image Of her first husband had
become ghost that walked beside her path
and stood beside her bed, and the memory of
her happlest years had become q haunting
memory that came between her and every
Charm and every interest that her present life
could offer.
Thus 1t that she had been eager to see
more of Fio-es;an, and had asked him to
luncheon at their hotel.
This time they were at the Bristol and it was
In a saloon on the second floor, looking out
upon TIE Place VendonIe, that they received
Gilbert Florestan.
Daisy beamed upon him in a white straw hat
trimmed with spring flowers and neat little
gray checked gown, made by one of those cpl
Gene tai.ors who give their minds to the en-
Enlistment of tine female figure. She had
bunch of lilies of the valley pinned upon her
breast, bunch which Cyril had just bough.
for her in the Rue Castiglione They had
been running about Paris all the morning.
Cyril protesting that the great city a vulgar,
glaring. dusty hole, yet very delighted to attend
his sweetheart in her explorations and to show
her everything that was worth looking at.
Il hope l have satiated her with churches"
he said; I'VE have driven all over Paris, and
have gone up and down SO many steps that
feel as if had been working on the treadmill.
We wound up with scamper in Pere la
Chaise."
1T was a scamper," exclaimed Daisy ssHe
would hardly let me look at any of the monu-
ments. They are all mixed up in my mind, a
chaos of bronze and marble, classic temples
and Egyptian obelisks-Balzac, Rachel. the
Russian princess who was burned to death at a
ball, Desclee, Theirs, Abelard and Heloise. I
could spend long day roaming about in that
place of names and memories, and Cyril took
me through the alleys almost at a run"
why should a girl want to prowl about a
cemetery, unless she Is a ghoul, and is mapping
out the place iii order to go back there in the
night and digF Cyril protested with a dis
gusted air. Il would rather have to stand and
wait while you looked at all the shops in the
Rue de la PAX"
both Cyril and Florestan were full Of talk and
vtvacity, and Daisy talked much as they let
her, leaving Ambrose Arden and his wife free
TO look on and listen. They had spent their
morning together among the second hand
book shops on the Quai Voltaire, where the
scholar had found two or three treasures in
nxteenth century literature, and where the
scholars wife had hunted for herself among
volumes of a lighter and more modern charac-
Yer, and had selected some small additions to
the carefully chosen library at River Lawn a
collection which had been growing ever since
Robert HatreHfs death had made her in some
way dependent upon books for companionship
After lunch Florestan suggested pilgrimage
70 81 Denis and ouered 10 act as clcerone, an
offer which Daisy accepted eagerly SO a roomy
carriage was ordered and Mrs. Arden, her
daughter and the two young men set out for
the resting place of royalties. leaving Ambrose
free TO 90 back to the book shops
1T isn't a bad day for a drive" said Cyril. as
She landau bowled along the broad level road
outside the city, ''but am sorry that we are
pandering to Miss Hatrells ghoulish tastes by
hunting after more graves"
There was more discussion that evening as
70 now long the river lawn party should re-
main IN Paris. They had arrived from Italy
Two days before, and while they were in Venice
Mrs. Arden had seemed anxious to return to
England and had confessed herself homesick.
In PARIS she seemed disposed for delay.
Il can't quite understand you, Clara" said
her husband; "al your yearning for home
seems 70 have left you"
II AN as anxious as ever to 90 home, but
there Is something want to do IN Paris
What is thatl'
''Oh, II Is q very small matter. would
rather not talk about 1t"
Ambrose looked at her wonderingly. This
vas the fret time since their marriage that
she had refused to tell him anything He did
not press the point, however. The matter in
question might DO some feminine friyolity,
some business with dressmakers or milliners
which Il Was no part Of husbands business to
know
Later on in the evening his wife asked q ques-
oon aprop0s 10 nothing
Does Mr.. Florestan know Paris particularly
WellT"