Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1892-10-08


cidsnts? She was such contrast 70 Millicsnt
| Earle, whose little ways OF laughter. voice and
| gesture were 20 spontaneous. whose dfmplss
were never quite gone. With her more pom
tive qualities. Miiiiesnt lacked the dreamy, un-
real, 81. Cecilia charm Of Elinor White.
At the end Of two weeks he was by no means
ready 10 60 away, but what be was pleased 70
call his duty lay In another direction, and he
left town with . regret so decided that II
Afforded him food for speculation. His frank
| far ~ acknowledging that the afternoons In the
empty church-the nearly empty church-were
| afternoons of most vivid "reminiscences. He
felt that he had never before permitted himself
70 be a. sentimental - he liked BE had told
no one Of this mystic pleasure. &c wondered
| Il the fair srganist ever dreamed Of ~ pres-
ence Of an unseen listener A. abe called forth
strains Of Bach or Sullivan. II was not only
| the music that charmed him, II was the rledils-
1t all
II was some time before he was again In Rad
field Certain legal ms and outs sent him on .
somewhat prolonged trip to the west. Both at
home and abroad he saw good deal of society
There were passages in his letters now and then
that made his cousin Lucy fear for the success
Of her project.
Il thought this time that Randolph was really
understood, she said pensfvely one morning,
as she sat at her writing desk
No, OF course not" replied her husband alb
sentiy: as ne ran over the items of the tele-
graphic column with preeticed eyes. The
had reached the foot Of the column.
Il beg your pardon, my dear. What was il
you were sayingY" he said But seeing that she
was already finishing the first page of her letter,
he returned to his newspaper with . good con-
science.
| Lucy. having unrssentfuIly come to that con.
clusion which makes the lives of SO many clever
married women happy, that II wasn't worth
| while to explain things to husband, was en-
gagged In bringing into her letter to Randolph
certain tactful references to Rlinor White.
When Randolph received this letter he per-
ceived the purpose of the reminders, but they
nevertheless had their effect. Thsy brought
before him more clearly the sweet, musical
indennitcness Of that slender young woman,
and the old charm, unobliterated by absence,
reasserted itself. II was under this influence
that, finding few hours on his hands, he took
train for Rsdfeld. He could easily get back
| to town the same night. II was not q fortunat e
inspiration. He went directly to Miss Whites
homo and found that she was cut Of town.
Not Wishing to facs her natural inquiries he
would not 60 to see his cousin Lucy A. he
went down the street his steps turned, half
from habit, half by whimsical intention,
toward the church. He had no purpose Of
entering, for the spirit Of those dusky after
moons had vanished, but the sexton was IN
locking side door and he followed him in.
| Z
ing about him, as be had done that first day.
The building was damp and cold. The sun
light was not vigorous enough TO penetrate the
windows and lie in patches on the floor The
silence was oppressive, the organ loft seemed
peculiarly gloomy. The draped cross upon the
dimness He came away chilled and disap-
pointed This disappointment emphasized and
blended with that he had experienced in no.
finding Miss White, until 1t was really of deep
| bitterness
1t was not long after that he received an in
vitation from Lucy to visit her IN her little
seaside house, whose wonderful powers Of ex-
pansion he had more than once tested. She
expected Miss White and Mas Earle at the same
time, but, whom he arrived, be was met Sec
ono time with disappointment; EGnor was III
and only Millicent had come.
The days went by, and the beneficent infiu-
| ence OF outdoor life and frequent opportuni-
ties for the observation of Miss Earleis chsrac-
teristics softened any regret that Randolph
might be suffering. Lucy had misgiyings now
and then, but she dwelt openly on the bulletins
OF Miss Whites health, which was improving.
but not rapidly, and comforted herself with as
surances that Millicent and Randolph were not
likely ever to understand one another
Randolph had always considered that Miss
Earle s chief charm lay In O certain limpidness
OF character. She was always laughing, trans
parent, like mountain stream. She seemed
never to dash into the shadow, but to ripple all
! day In undisturbed good temper This poetic
conception wss rudely disturbed one morning
when he came down late and found her mos;
outragsously cross, because by some uufor.
tunate Misunderstanding she had been left be-
h'nd by gay party Of merrymsksrs. In vain
he represented that he had been left behind
| too: He did not care and she did. In vain he
srtfully centrived to hint that he hadn't had
anything for breakfast but surreptitious Gun
| Of coffee on the piazza and was q ct subject
oaC&A IL
do with It If he had been stupid
enough to be left too And when he
| openly declared that at the worst he was there
| to smuse her. and she might be thankful for
that, it but famed the fame. Apparently his
presence was the last fsgot that threatened
In the whirlwind Of her wrath and then reso-
inteiy seated herself at the window with the air
OF defying fate. Randolph was afraid she
would cry, but II was not unpleasant TO dis
cover that there were depths In her nature that
he had not sounded She, too, could be
more than once, whom Of this party Of pleasure
she could have been anxious to see His
| feelings toward the man, whoever he was were
entirely ready to be stirred into unkindnsss
Later IN the day she generously admitted that
she had been cross. Randolph urged her not
to mention it, but added that If he were
pressed he would be obliged to admit that she
had been perfect virago.
After this they saw even more of one another
Randolph went away, and came again for Sun
day. BE grew confidential with her He
found that she was in no small degree sympa-
| thetic, having that nameless something which Is
gift OF the gods, and not to be learned In any
finishing school whatsoever. II was Just before
he went away the second time that he told her
| about his hours in the Radfeld Church They
had been speaking of Miss White and her music
She did not laugh, as he was always afraid Lucy
might q. saD ~ he go, II
was willing to laugh at himself. "Quite stained
glass attitudes for both Of Us" he said. But
he was glad she did not laugh-that she under
stood the poetry Of it. .
After few more days Of this summer fellow
ship Millicent left for other visits and RAN
dolph returned to his law practice, grown less
| absorbing Of late. 1t seemed to him that Miss
Ear!e's sympathetic appreciation Of his feeling
for Elinor White had heightened bis own per-
ception OF 1t. II had not seemed to her vague
or ridiculous. She had felt the relation which
he had recognized between Elinor's actual
self and that vision Of her as an unseen must
clan. She herseh had said at another time.
very delicatsly, that to her that element Of un,
reality, Of unearthlinsss, was q large part of
love. He grew more positively to look upon
Elinor White - his ideal woman.
When October came again, with its warm
tints and golden sunlight, the conviction had
grown too strong to be resisted, and he longed
for the day to come when he could 20 and And
her. Had she had any experiences during her
long summer Of convalescenoe and renewed
health that would make her character an easier
one to read? Would abe be a little Glad 10 aee