St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1899-02-01

natural. It woke her sympathy and
gave her pleasant little feeling OF COM
partnership. Almost unconsciously she
herself moved little closer. .
"Are you attending? Margot l don't
believe you've heard word I've said.
Margot started, her cheeks af1ame,
and turned to him in generous apology.
"Dear, I'm SO sorry. How dreadful OF
me. It's all SO fresh and new and won
derful to me, you see. I'm bit scatter
Drained. Such intelligence as have is
limited to only taking in one thing at a
time Tell me all about it again. III
listen, truly. Do forgive me, Richard,
please.
Her pleading broke down even Chin
nock's Indignation But his shirt front
looked extraordinarily stiff and starch
ed and white, rather like polished mar
ble she thought, or was it only papier
mache? And Margot moved instinctively
little farther from him as he con-
tinued:
Foremost in the ranks Of our latter
day satirists James Lee Hoey stands
unequaled. She it was who practically
founded the new school. She stands
alone. Her disciples initiate laboriously
her brilliant dialogue, her scintillatlng
epigram'-
"Her?" the girl repeated vaguely.
"Her? Why do you speak OF him as
her? Surely he is man.. "
"Do you mean he asked. us 1t
possible that living woman exists who
does not recognize the supreme fact that
this one of our greatest writers-l had
almost said our one great writer-hon'
ored her sex by belonging to it?'
81 never realized that to belong to
either sex was a question of ones own
volition," Margot said quietly. Il did
not know that James Lee Hoey was
woman, and, what is more, I'm not es-
pecially proud Of the fact. don t ad-
mire her. She is cynical and hard and
morbid. like Rhoda Broughton far,
far better-I love her, in fact, she's so
human and-Mrs. Hungerford, and dear
Mrs. Clifford and Beatrice Harraden
and heaps of Others. P"
She choked little in her excitement,
trying to keep back her tears 1t was
all so trivial, but she had been petted
and made much of all through her hap
Ply IS years, her criticism asked, her
opinion deferred to, and now Repuls-
ed, hurt, suffering, she shrauk away
from him. His kiss on greeting had
been cold; his kiss on parting might
reasonably be expected to be frigid.
She sat in outward quietude, her
head averted, her thoughts tumultuous.
If this was the beginning, what. oh,
what would the end be? When the cur
tain rose at length, it was relief, but
the relief passed when it fell again. Ii
an hour of him was SO trying, what
would lifetime prove? At the second
act he left her to have cigarette in the
foyer. She sat listlessly. What fool
she had beenl What a mistake she had
made! Was it irrevocable? Ones peo-
pie knew something after all; so much
she must admit. She had thought him
cultivated, charming. They had met on
a northern visit and be had been out
deer stalking all day. At night he was
too tired to prose overmuch, and his
priggishness had passed for culture.
Since their engagement they had met
for the most part at big functions, and
there it happened that until tonight
they had really seen remarkably little
of each other.
And what an awakening tonight had
broughtl She held her programme in
her hand, looking at it with unseeing
eyes. How blurred it was-how stained
how like her future life would be-,
lived out with him
A shadow crossed the page. She look.
ed up. A we'll remembered presence
made itself felt.
"Margot Crying!"
She sprang to her feet gladly, tri.
umphantly, catching with her two
hands at the firm, protecting fingers
which gripped hers.
! sob, Don, she said brokenly, "take
me back! Please take me home before
he comes again, dear. can't stand him
any more. Talk nonsense, Don. Tell mt
I'm ripping, and a brick and Jolly,
in all the rest of the dear, delightful
slangy terms. And, oh, Don, fyou low
me, dear, make love to me, real love
for always! Don't ever, ever, be oultur
ed or superior
eff love you'll" he said.
And before the look of his eyes he
own fell. But it did not matter, for b.
Iul.oz, Il:oIl