Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-09-19

long as one can stay awake" He turns
pointedly to Lillian. who Is gazing out on
the moonlit water as though unaware Of
his presence, yet all the time she is Won
dering If he had heard her last words.
Surely not; his marEer is free from embar-
rassment, not an aIriere pensee in 1t. Your
first visit. Miss Blake?''
Yes, her flrst! says Aunt Bessie, hur-
riedly, who feels storm brewing.
First Impressions are always best" says
Lansdale,. whose lips witch humorously.
You will stay for some timer
For a week." says Aunt Bessie, prompt
ly. for which speech the girl could willingly
have killed her. To go tomorrow after that
would be impossible. 1t would look like
may cost her. she will remain; she will be
even friendly with him; she will let him
see that his being here is a matter of the
most perfect Indifference to her, and just
at the very end she will say something,
just mere word or two, and quite polite.
That will will let him know how distinctly
displeasing he Is to her, If not, indeed, alb
solutely hateful.
that rext morning she meets his proposal
to go out boating with him in an anna BILE
II distinctly careless, fashion. The fact
that she adores boating, that Aunt Bessie
wouldn't go with her, and that a boatman
is generally bore has perhaps something
to do with her going, but she herself puts
it down to the resolution" And for three
days she goes out boating with him. always
ent air. speaking to him as little as pos
sible. and giving him to understand silently
that though she acknowledges the cousin
ship between them, he himself is of no &C
count at all. And Larsdale, who had be-
gun by beng amused. has grown curious
and perhaps little reSentful.
Today, Thursday, and the fourth of their
acquaintance, has opened with warm
faint, driving mist, that lies like a soft
cloud on the brows of Hungry He'll and the
Sugar Loaf, wrapping them in garment
of purple haze. 1t is not sufficiently Wet
however. to keep any one at home. and in
the morning Lillian had acceded to Lans-
dale's request that they should take an
other look at Cromwell's bridge, and had
from that wandered on into the lovely
woods almost within reach Of Lord Ban
trys shooting lodge. They had, Of course,
seen it all before. and it was Ike fare
well visit, rs, Of course. tomorrow viii be
their last day-Aunt Bessie having decided
on returning home on Saturday. Always
somewhat taciturn when with him. Lillian
had been singularly so this morning, and
it Is with a sort of logged pert!nacity that
Lansdale asks her at the hotel door on
their return if she is too tired to go out for
a row. A good deal to his astonishment
she acquiesces at once, and Godfrey, hav-
irg secured a very satisfactory luncheon
made up in a dainty basket. they start.
But here as on land LilianS reserve con-
t:nues.
"Why the deuce does she come If she
can't stand me?" says Lansdale to HIM
self. with pardonable irritation. and, fall
irg into her mood. he, too, refrains from
speech. until the sound of the oars and
the musical dashng of the water against
the sides of the many islands by which
they go, is all that breaks their silence.
They land at Garnish Island, and go up
to see the Martello tower, an old man with
the keys following them. And perhaps it
adds to Lansdales sense of injustice that
Lillian talks gayly to this old ancient,