Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-11-02

have-to have-to have-weH, to have some
pity on me. and yet"
He didn't take them." cried Sylvia, i'm
pulsively.
That matter seemed to he settled quite
satisfactorily. and We passed into another.
How dare tell papa?" asked Sylvia, ap-
prehenSively.
well, 1 shall have a row with the gov
ernor,' I reflected ruefully.
'Horrd old rubiesl l wish they were at
the bottom of the sea- said Sylvia.
Il wish they were round your neck"
said 1.
How can you, Mr.. Merridew?" MUIR
INJURED Sylvia.
Il could say a great deal more than
that cried. But she would not let me.
Now, as l went home from this interview
l was. l protest more filled with regrets
that the Maharajahs rub,es could not
adorn and be adorned by Sylvia's neck
than with apprehensiouS as to the effect
my communication might have upon my
father. Whether Col. Merr:dew had stolen
them or not became a subordinate ques-
ton: the great problem was, where We're
they? Why We're they not round Sylvia s
neck? / suffered a sense of personal loss.
hardly less acute than the emotion that
had brought SIR George Marston post haste
to the colonels house forty years before 1
was so engrCSsed with this aspect of the
case that, as my father and l sat over our
cigarettes after dinner, l exclaimed mad
vertently:
How splendidly tfey'd have suited her,
by .Jove"
Whenever anybody IN our family spoke of
they or them without further idertit-
cation he was understood to refer to the
Iaharajah's rubies.
who would they have suited?" asked my
father.
why. Sylvia Marston.'' I sid.
When you have an awkward disclosure to
make. there is nothing like uniting
yourself to it at once by an irremedia BILE
discretion. 1t blocks the way back and
clears the way forward My mention of
Sylvia Marston defined the position with
absolute clearnesS.
What's Sylvia Marston to your asked
my father scornfully.
The whole world, and more answer
ed fervently.
My father rang the bell for coffee. When
it had been served he remarked:
Il think you had better take a run on the
continent for a few months. Or what do
you say to India?- My Uncle john
Mind you, don't believe he took them,''
| Interrupted.
IF you did shouldn't be sitting at the
same table with you" observed my father.
But she's the most charming girl l ever
saw l remarked, returning to the real
point.
Il don't follow the connection of your
thoughts" said my father.
There are one or two points that deserve
mention here. The Marston property was
4 very nice one; combined with ours, it
would make first-class estate. Sir Mat
thew had no son, and Sylvia was his only
daughter; to be perpetually opposed in
everything by a neighbor is veXatious: nv
father was not really convinced home
ruler. and had only appeared on platforms
in that interest because Sir George was
such strong unionist. Finally, the duchess
had said that his patience was exhausted
with the squabbles of the Merridews and
the Marstons, and that for her part she
wouldn't ask either of them. Now. my
father cared as little for a duchess as any
70 nj rat
Castle was prcverbial
If. sad my father at the end of a long
discussion, 1.-THE man Che meant Sir Mat.
thew Marston) will make an absolute and
unreserNed apology, and withdraw all I'M
putat.ons on Uncle Johns memory, l shall
be willing to consider the matter"
You might as WELL" l protested. TASK
him to eat the rubes."
Il believe Old Sir George did" answered
nv fathe gr'mIy
l must pass over the next two or three
months briefly. Thwarted love ran its
usual course. Sylvia (whose interview with
S-r Matthew had been even more uncom-
fort ibie than mine with my father) peake
and p-n5d and was sent to stay with an
aunt at Cheltenham: she returned worse
than ever. l went to Paris, where I en-
ioyed myself very well, but I came back
inc1nsol BILE. Sylvia's health was grayely
'ange ed. I displayed an alarming ina
lit sc tie down to anything. We used
to meet very day in highest exulta tim
AMI part every day in deepest woe. We
ia ked of death and elopement alternately.
and treated our fathers with despairing
and most exasperdting dutfulness. The
month of June found ourselves and our af-
fections exactly where we and they had
been in March.
A daughter is, l take it. harder to resist
than SON 1t was for this reason and not
because Sir Matthew was in any degree
less stubborn than my father that the first
overtures came from the Marstons.
Sylvia was trimming over with delight
when she met me one morning.
Papa is ready to be reconciled" she
or e.. oh, Jack. isn't it delightful"
What? Will he apologize?" 1 asked
e ". as I caught her hand.
Yes" said she. with smiling lips and
dancing eyes. He'll admit that nothing
has occurred to prove Col. Merridew'
guilt, if your father will admit that every
wal must have thought that Col
Merridew was guilty"
Hum" said 1 doubtfully. '1ll tell my
father"
My father received my report in a some
what hostile spirit At first he was in.