Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1890-02-08


light sparkles and dances when he is amused al
anything. He has curly brown hair, hair
which curls obstinately however closely it is
cropped. Very pretty hair, hair that offers a
suggestion of the poetical temperament which
Cyril certainly does not realize. He has q
sharp. inquisitive nose. He calls mine tip
tilted" and am sure his has the same upward
inclination, but it is a very nice nose all the
same and il has no affinity to the snub or the
pug He IS tall and slim with moderately
broad shoulders and quick, active movements
and he always dresses we'll believe he con-
siders himself an authority upon dress and he
is certainly very severe upon other people
took his arm and We went out into the driz
cling rain. There were great many shops
open. late as 1t was. and they looked lovely but
my mind was too full of serious things for me
to be easily distracted
Take me first to look at the cathedral" ]
SAID, and then take me into some solitary
place where we can talk quietly"
"Gracious, madam, what an alarming re-
quest" he cried. Il think we had better get
the sacristan and his keys, and go down into
the crypt where Sir Charles Borromeo lies in
his silver shrine. / cannot conceive any other
place solemn enough to match the solemnity OF
your tone"
Don't laugh at me, Cyril, 1 am very. very
serious" He looked down at me with startled,
inquisitiye air.
"What is it, Daisy" he said very sharply,
almost angrily, "a love'affair?'
No. no, no. There is nothing further from
my thoughts tonight than love-"
Il am glad to hear it. When a young lady
is an heiress. and something of a feather head
into the bargain. one is easily alarmed"
You have no right to call me feather head,
when your father, one OF the cleverest men in
Europe, has educated me, l said Indignantly.
My dearest child. book learning is not Wis
DOM" he answered, land grain of worldly
knowledge is sometimes more useful than a
pound OF book knowledge. L know that you are
far i'll advance of the average girl in your ac-
quaintance with European literature. know
that you have read more than some college
dons and that you are an excellent linquist, and
altogether deeply, darkly, beautifully blue. But
all the same you have not learned the al
phabet of the world in which you live. All that
kind of knowledge has yet to come"
1T is a hateful kind of knowledge" said
angriiy.
My child, you can't get on without it." he
answered, with his superior air.
We were in the great open place in front of
the cathedral by this time and stood breath
less with wonder looking up at that mntchless
building. have been told since that the ex-
terror, which looked so lovely in the bright
white light, against a back ground OF dull gray,
is overrich in decoration, that those innumer-
able statues of saints and martyrs, angels and
archangels. priests and prophets are a waste of
power, but to my uneducated eye there was
not touch of the chisel that seemed SUPER
fluous; not niche or pinnacle that did not
seem necessary part Of the vast scheme of
splendor.
/ told Cyril what thought, as we walked
slowly up and down surveying the mighty
basilica from different points of view; and
then we crossed the square, and he took me
through the lofty bright-looking arcade. and
then into quieter part of the city. beyond the
great opera house and Leonardo's statue
Here the houses were large and palatial. and
there were no more shops and very few people
walking about.
Now, Daisy, for this confidence Of yours.
which is not about love-" he said kindly
Il want you to tell me all:you know and all
you think about my fathers murder" said
What, they have told you, then?'
Nobody has told me. / overheard two men
talking about my mother and her first hus-
band"
And their talk revealed the secret that had
been Kept from you so carefully. Hard lines."
Il am glad know. 1t was hateful to be
kept IN the dark-loving my father as l did,
Dear child, what good can it do you to
know
only this good-that can look forward to
the day when his murderer will be discovered
and punished"
I'm afraid that day will never come, Daisy.
pursuit that failed seven years ago is not
likely to succeed hereafter. Your mother Of
fered a thousand pounds reward for the con-
vlctlon of the murderer and some of the
sharpest brains in London were engaged in
the attempt to find him. They failed igno-
miniously; and l take it there is only one
chance OF his being brought to book
''And that is"
His being arrested for some new crime.
The coo. dehberation with which the deed
was done-the quiet way in which the man got
of and disposed of his plunder-argues the
professional murderer He may commit more
murders IN the course of his professional
career and sooner or later his work NAV be
clunsily done. or his luck may change-and
then. perhaps, when the rope is round his
neck. he may confess himself the murderer of
your father
Tell me ali you know about the man-and
the crihe.'
My dearest child, I know very little" he
said; Seven years ago was at Winchester.
careless young scoundrel, thinking more of
cricket and foot ball, and of my chances of A
scholarship. than of my friends; although I
think you must know that loved your mother
and your father next in this world to my own
father, and the dear old grandad in Radnor-
snlre. Seven years ago my father was q poor
man, ana was ever SO much more ambitious
ana ever SO much more willing to work. than /
nave ever been since he came into his fortune
III AFRAID was selfish young begggr in those
days. but felt the shock OF your fathers death
very deeply. in spite of my egotism. was
mentally stunned by the blow when took I'D a
London paper and sawHhat my fathers friend
had been murdered. ana thought of the desola-
tOh III tha' HaPPy Hoihc. the misery OF that
once happy wife. River Lawn was my ideal
home. Daisy. l had never been able to pic
ture u myself fairer domestic life than that
OF your father and mother, with nv swee.
brown-eyed Daisy fitting about in the fore
ground. like ray of sunshine incarnate If
you had changed into anything it would have
Eeen into a sun ray. i felt tine full force of the
catastrophe. Daisy. andI devoured the account
of the inquest, but the details have grown dim
In my memory. only know that your father was
lured into shabby lodging, upon some shall
low pretence, and there murdered and robbie d
OF nearly four thousand pounds"
And then he argued with me as nv step
father had argued. He tried to make me think
that the history of my fathers death was a his
tory which l ought to forget. He used almost
the same words that Uncle Ambrose had used
that night at Lucerne when my heart was burst
ing with grief and indignation. Nothing that
either could say had any power to alter my
feelings.
Cyril and walked for long time in those
narrow streets OF tall stone houses, with great
seulptured doorways, and here and there the
glimpse OF u garden seen dimIy through n
vaulted arch. L shall never think of the CITY
OF Milan as long as L live without thinking OF
my father CHASTITY death, or without recalling
the dreary sense of helplessness that came upon
me last night as l walked by Cyrirs side and
heard MS sophistical arguments ill favor of OBJ
lvion. W.
Tomorrow we go to verona-ciry of manv
memories--and after day or two devoted to
medl@val architecture We 20 on to Venice the
dream city.
Uncle Ambrose has given me half dozen
books about the City of the Doges to road nj
my leisure. and he is always ready with his own
storehouse OF information, which seems to me