Evening star., 1901-05-11

note of regret came into his voice. He
treated me very badly-I know NeeId won't t
admit it, but he did Still, | like him and
I'd help him if l could
well, he atoned for anything wrong by
owning up in the end remarked South
end.
THAT wasn't for my sake or for-Wel
it had nothing to do with us. AS far as
are concerned, he'd been at Blent to-
day. 1t was Cecily Gansborough who did
it."
Yes I wonder"
Iver rose, decisively. Look here, South
end, If you're going to do exactly what
all my friends and neghbors are doing. l
shall go and write letters" With a nod
he walked into the next room, leaving
Neeld alone with his inquisitive friend.
Southend lost no time.
Whats happened about jamie Iver?"
There was some talk
It's all over whispered Neeld, with
needless caution. He released her and she
accepted the release"
What, on the ground that
Really, | don't know any more. But
it's finally over; you may depend upon
Southend lit a cigar with a satisfied air.
On the whole he was glad to hear the
news.
Staying much longer in town% he
asked.
No. I'm going down to Iver's again in
August"
You want to see the end of it? Come.
l know, that's it, He laughed as he
walked away.
Meanwhile Harry Tristram, unconscious
of the efforts which were being made to
arrange his future. and paying little
attention as he could to the buzz of gossip
about his past, had settled down in quiet
rooms and was looking at the world from
a new point of view. The season was not
over yet. and he liked to go out about 8
o'clock in the evening and watch the great
city starting forth to enjoy ITSELF then he
could feel it's life in all the rush and the
gayety of IT. Somehow, now he seemed
more part of it and more at home in it
than when he used to run up for few
days from his country home. Then Blent
had been the center of his life, and in
town he was but a stranger and a So
journer. Blent was gone and London is
home to homeless men. AS he looked back
he seemed to himself to have lived hither-
to on the banks of the river of life. as
we'll of the river Blent. There had been
no need of swimming. But he was in the
current now; he must swim or sink. No
such notions had been fostered by days
spent the banks of the Blent. What
shall l do? What shall / do?" The ques-
ton hummed in his brain as he walked
about. There were such infinite varieties
of things to do, such a multitude Of peo-
pie doing them. To some men this reflec-
tion brings despair or bewilderment. To
Harry Gas, indeed, Lord Southend would
have expected from his observation of
II q
opportunities, stirring his mind to busy
consideration of changes He had f15,0OO
in forms as good as cash. He was living
more less as he had once meant to
live in this one particular-he was living
with a respectable, if not big check by
him, ready for any emergency which might
arise-an emergency not now of a danger
to be warded off, but Of an opportunity to
be seized.
These new thoughts suited we'll with the
which maid a EVanSWOOd
and gained fresh strength from it. He was
announced as Mr.. Tristram He had just
taken steps to obtain a royal license to
bear the name.
Although the room was in deep shadow
and very still, and the old. white-haired
lady the image Of peace, for Harry there.
too. the current ran strong Though not
great, she had known the great; If she had
not done the things, she had seen them
done: her talk revealed a matter-of- course
knowledge Of secrets, natural intimacy
with the inaccessible. 1t was like Harry
to show signs of being impressed; but
very shrewd eyes were upon him, and his
impassivity met with amused approval,
since 1t dropped short of inattention. She
Tristram.
THE most fascinating creature in the
world" she said.
Il knew her as a little girl. knew her
that she hardly left Blent, did she? At
least. she never came to London. You
travelled, I know"
Were you ever at Blent?" he asked.
'No. Mr.. Tristram."
He frowned for a moment: it was odd
not to be able to ask people there iust.
too, as he was awaking to the number of
people there were in the world worth ask
ing.
"There never was anybody in the world
like her. and there never will be-" Lady
Evenswood went on.
II used to think that: but was wrong"
The smile that Nina ZahriSka kDaw
on his face.
You were wrong. Who's like her,
then?
Her successor. My Cousin Cecily's very
like her.
Lady Evenswood was more struck by the
way he spoke than by the meaning of
what he said. She wanted to say, Bravo"
and to pat him on the back; he had avoided