Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-04-25
CHAPTER XVII.
The Thing Most Wonderful in All the
| Worlds.

Worlds.
Monsieur and Madame MOntbeliard, the
host and hostess of the dainty little maiden
wbo had been so marvelously transported
to them across the gorge of the Dourpie'
we're equally glad to welcome the cele-
brated minister from Geneva and his young
friend 1t was not long. therefore, pe1ore
they conveyed Patrick Wildwood to an up
per chamber, where was hidden from pry-
ing and inauisitorial eyes precious store
of remembrances of the Old Temple OF the
Consistory in a certain small ana lficoh-
spicuous street known by the name VI
Threa dneedle. ~
But during this time there were other Two
left below stairs who were quite otherwise
employed The jealousy OF the acuoiis y,
young girls so common in conventual anu
Catholic France. had not at that tiihe a.
tackled the Protestant departments.
The Young people were therefore Ieit ~
gether without thought ana as d II.
proof that this confidence had peen rlsiitiy
reposed in them, they looked in contrary d.
rections out of different windows and SPOKE
never word.
Maurice had by this time thrown Off ms
blouse and as Billy Marshall had not YET
brought him his ordinary attire. he was sun
In the by no means unbecoming dress OF the
Maison Rouge. Presently from his WlndoW
he vented long sigh. hollow and desolate
as the winds which draw and Wlthora"
through the SOuliEeS anu Jaws VI "NA-N
Flower-o -the-Corn smiled, but secfety
and to herself.
Maurice sighed again, sigh so mighty
that the curtains rustled as at the rising Oh
the valley wind in the Dourbie.
Whereat FloWer-o o the-Corn laughed out
right and then Immediately felt that she
had made mistake. For instantly. as II
stung by the rippled scorn, Maurice LETT ms
seat and was standing by her side. He dld
not venture to touch her and she bent her
ewes steadily upon her white seam. She re-
gained her gravity with an EFFORT, and 1or
the moment at least neither laughed nor
smiled She only sewed as If her livelihood
depended upon the diligence OF her fingers.
THAT was cruel Of you, do you known
he said his fingers itching to lay them
selves upon the waves and tangles of her
corn-red hair and watching the clear sweep
ing curve of the nape of her white neck
till it was lost in her gown. He could not
see her face and that In the circumstances
was perhaps as well.
Flower-o '-the-COrn looked up at him with
a kind of surprise.
What was cruel of me-to laugh?'' she
said. Il am sorry! I suppose you sighed
because-because Yvette Is not here. But
I cannot help that, you knOw!
Then she shook her head sadly. as If
greving over his iniquity.
Have you no pity in your said Maurice,
meekly. II made grievous mistake. I
Il never loved that-woman."
Then the greater the shame" said Fran
ces, quick as flash. mot that the mat
ter interests me-" she added. resuming her
sewing calmly Il have good eyes. They
necessity to find excuses for young men
who make such mistakes! They are all too
apt to repeat them!'
There is nothing I would like better"
said Maurice, daringly. He began to feel
that he had long enough acted as neither
milestone.
Flower-o -the-Corn rose haughtily fold
ing up her sewing as she did so.
II must go to my father. think he Is
calling me-" che said. with what severity
she could command.
Now. what happened just after that 1t is
hard for the most accurate chronicler to
say.
Frances Wildwood had a needle in her
hand So much is certain. And as Maurice
Raith took step nearer to her something
occurred.
hand on her breast as If to recover her
breath. II am not Yvette Foy, and-and
Il hope 1t did hurt. You had no right!'
The needle stood out threateningly, like
bayonet which has been feshed once and
is again at the ready.
Maurice was holding his arm. a look of
ludicrous penitence upon his face i.
foolish impulse of a moment. the vanity
of an hour pleaded Maurice. II have
loved you. you alone-ever since I saw
you stand among the ripe wheat on the
brdDdnt pam, Win the SKY ABOVE you no
bluer than your eyes!'
1t was somehow pleasant to hear words
like these from Maurice Raith, but the
daughter of the chaplain of Ardmillan'S
regiment was not of those who are easily
won.
"She had no black eyes!' she went on
maliciously, 'they are very beautiful.
am sure you told her that you preferred
such!"
Maurice. however, was in no ways dis
couraged. She made no further movement
to leave the room, and the young aid of
my Lord Marlborough knew that SO long
as a woman does that she will listen to
reason-or. as the case may be. to un-
reason. At all events. she will listen.
There was a bright flush of rose on the
girls cheeks which had not been there
when she sprang daintily into her father
arms, even when she had come up
stairs so poutingly upon his arm. She
stood examining her seam, apparently lost
in admiration Of the fneness of the stitch
Frances" he continued, manfully, 81
love you. have loved you long time.
I have told your father that I love you.
He knows who I am. and at least he does
not disapprOve To one question only do I
believe that I am entitled to an answer
Here Flower-o'-the-Corn moved her feet
| uneasly on the uncovered wooden floor,
| but she did not speak.
do you love any man so much that you
| feel there Is no room in your heart for
me?"
The blue eyes of Flower-o' -the-Corn
flashed upon him almost more mischievous-
| ly. though less wickedly than those black
| ones of Yvette Foy.
"Yes!" she said. That and no more. He
was answered. and now she looked full at
him as if daring him.
The sunburnt out-of-doors' hue upon
Maurice Raiths face paled instantly to a
CHASTITY paleness. His finger nails gripped
deep into his palms. His head grew sud
denly light, the room turned round, and
had he not been near the window sill he
might have fallen. The girls answer COM
| ing, as a pistol shot, for the moment para
lyZed him.
The great blue eyes followed every move
ment, at first with doubt. to which follow
ed surprise. Then came compunction and
lastly Flower-o the-Corn added softly: IT
-meant-my-father!
Brought up as Frances had been among
the talk of men. the constant alienation
| Gas 1t were) OF lovemaking and the shorter
catechism she could hardly believe that
the matter could be so serious to a man as
she knew It must be to woman whose
fate 1t is to suffer or rejoice all her life ac-
cording to her hearts choice. But as she
looked at the CHASTITY pallor. the sudden
shaking of the springs Of life, she felt that
this was something mightier than aught
she had yet experienced.
She held out her hand impulsively. There
was no noo1le In 1t this ttEA