The San Francisco call., 1901-10-27
G@PYR1auT By HERgRT S STONE 8 GO.

you. Sndll-er-deem II pleasure.
She raised her eyebrows slightly. but
thanked him and said she would consider
it an honor. His face grew hot and his
heart cold with the fancv that there was
In her eyes a gleam which said: II pity
you, poor fellow.
Notwithstanding his strange misgiving
and the fact that his pride had sustained
quite perceptible shock. he drove with
them to the station. They went to the
sleeping car few minutes before the
time set for the trains departure, and
stood at the bottom of the steps. utter
Ing the good-bys the godspeeds and the
sincere hope that they might meet again.
Then came the sharp activity of the train
men, the hurry of beIated passengers. He
glanced soberly al his watch
1T Is nine o'clock. Perhaps you would
better get aboard" he said. and pro-
ceeded to assist Aunt Yvonne up the
steps. She turned and pressed his hand
gently before passing into the car.
"Adieu, good friend You have made
1T so very pleasant for u.s." she said, earn
estly
The tall, soldierly old gentleman was
waiting to assist his niece into the coach.
Go first, Uncle Caspar," the girl made
Lorry happy by saying, "I can easily
come up unaided."
"Or can assist her." Lorry hastened
to add giving her a grateful look which
she could not misunderstood. The uncle
shook hands warmly with the young man
and passed up the steps. She was follow
ing when Lorry cried
"Will you not allow me?"
She laughingly turned to him from the
steps and stretched forth her hand
"And now it is good-by forever / am
SO sorry that I have not seen more Of
you," she said. He took her hand and
held It tightly for moment
L shall never forget the past few days"
he said. a thrill in his voice "Ycu have
put something into my life that can never
be taken away. You will forget me be-
fore you out of Washington but II
shall always see you as you are now"
She drew her hand away gently but did
not take her eyes away from his upturned
face.
You are mistaken. Why should I for
get you-ever? Are you not the ideal
American whose name I bought? shall
always remember you as I saw you-at
Denver
mot as I have been since?" he cried.
'Have you changed since I first saw
your" she asked quantity
'I have. indeed. for you saw me before
I saw you. I am glad have not changed
for the worse in your eyes"
Gas / first knew you with my eyes, I
will say that they are trustworthy" she
said tantalizingly.
81 do not mean that have changed ex-
ternally"
I'm any other case my eyes would not
serve" she cried with mock disappoint-
ment. STILL" she added, sweepingly.
you are my ideal American. Good-byI
The man has called all oardp "
"Good-by!" he said swinging up on the
narrow step beside her. Again he clasped
her hand she drew back in surprise.
You are going out of my land but not
out Of my mind If you wish your eyes to
the phqnCa in have O01U tO
look at them in mirror. They are the
hope that may see you again.
She hesitated an instant. her eyes wa
vering beneath his. The train was nov
ing slowly now.
IT pray that we may meet" she said
softly, at last-so softly that he barely
heard the words. Had she uttered no
sound he could have been sure OF her re-
sponse. for it was in her telltale eyes.
His blood leaped madly. ''You will be
hurt if you wait until the train is running
at full speed" she cried, suddenly return
ing to the abandoned merry mood. She
pushed him gently in her excitement.
Don't you see how rapidly we are NOV
ing? Please go!' There was a terror in
her eyes that pleased him.
"Good-by, thenp' he cried.
"Adieu. my American she cried,
quickly.
AS he swung out, ready to drop to the
something that suggested mischief. her
face more bewitching than ever under the
flicker of the great arc lights:
You must come to Edelweiss to see
me. I shall expect your He thought there
was a challenge in the tones. Or was it
mockery?
II will. by heaven, I willw he ex-
claimed
A startled expression flashed across her
face, and her lips parted as if in protes-
tation. AS she leaned forward, holding
stoutly to the hand-raiI, there was no
smile on her countenance
A white hand 1uttered before his eyes,
and she was gone. He stood, hat in hand,
watching the two red lights at the end Of
the train until they were lost in the night.
V-SENTIMENTAL EXCHANGE.
If Lorry slept that night he was not
aware of it. The next morning after lie
had breakfasted with his mother he tried
in vain to recall minute of the time be-
tween midnight and eight a. m. in which
he did not think of the young woman
who had flown away with his tranquility.
All night long he tossed and thought.
He counted ten thousand black sheep
jumping over pasture fence, but after
the task was done and the sheep hal
scattered, he was as far from sleep as
ever. Her face was everywhere. Her
voice filled his ear with music never-ceas-
ing, but 1T was not the Iulllng music that
invites drowsiness. He heard the clock
strike the hours from 1 to 8, when he
arose, thoroughly disgusted with himself
Everything seemed to taste bitter or to
look blue. That breakfast was a grea-
strain on his natural politeness. He Wnr-
SHIPPED his mother, but in several in
stances that morning he caught himself
just in time to prevent the utterance Os
some sharp rejoinder to her pleasant.
motherly queries. Twice she was COM
PEELED to repeat questions his mind be-
ing so far away that he heard nothing
save words that another woman had Ut
tered, say twenty-four hours before. His
eyes were red' and there was a heavy
droop to the lids; his tones were drawing
and his voice strangely without warmth;
his face was white and tired.
"You are not well, Grenfall" his
mother said, peering anxiously into his
eyes. "The trip has done you up. Now,