Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1904-03-05

where he had dreamed some of the rosiest
dreams of his life.
A year ago he lived there.
Yesterday he lunched with the lord chief
justice.
Today he dined with Gladstone.
Tomorrow he would sail for America. He
was stealing quietly away, for he hated
noise and notoriety. He was going to visit
and to rest.
Goodbye, dear old stepStone, goodbye,
he quoted and turned away.
AS he walked slowly to his luxurious
apartments Atwood began to ask himself
why he had come back to the old place at
midnight and alone Was 1t Mr.. Glad
stones reference to the old days? Or Mr.
GladstOnes old port? Or was he losing
himself in his work?
Anyway he was glad that his stout limbs
had carried him back that he might take
leave of his old bachelor home before his
departure for America.
AS he walked away with elevated chin his
foot struck a stone. He paused and looked
down. He had stumbled over the slab that
covers Goldsmith's grave
What narrow swath I shall be cutting
q hundred years hence" said Atwood,
hurrying on.
Sycamore" always attractive, was never
more so than now. Touhey, the old gar
dener, was arranging the rustic seats I'M
der the great trees where the robins were
roting when a carriage swung in at the
lower gate and rolled leisurely along the
graveled driveway arched over by dropping
bOughs of ancient forest trees.
Atwood was charmed with the place. He
had come to Canada expecting to find only
new crude things and was agreeably sur
prised.
He saw, too. that the welcome accorded
him was genuine. The hostess, Mrs. Deer
ing was sister to his mother, sweet soul,
who had gone from him when he was but a
boy. He admired her sons, sturdy young
fellows, just merging into manhood and
taking their places in the work of the
world. He was charmed by his beautiful
cousin, Helen. and greatly amused and en-
tertained by his maiden aunt, Phoebe, who
seemed ever to be in the act of side step
ping some sudden calamity, or shytng at an
Imaginary menace.
Atwood was not only clever but hand
some as well. and from the day of his ar
rival the staid old country seat took on
holiday airs Almost Immediately tele-
grams began to pour in from leading pub
fishers, followed by letters inviting the
visiting author to contribute to the maya
zines; while special writers and artists
from the big dailes began to break a trail
from the big towns to the northern shrine.
At the end of week all roads seemed to
lead to Sycamore"
To be sure, Atwood knew his coming
would make some noise, but he had not eX-
pected it would be as loud as this. The
space writer and the kodaker had estab-
lshed a peaceful blockade of Sycamore
If he showed his head some one took shot
at him. One persistent picture maker, hav-
ing stolen into the grounds by night, hid
under a big birch and actually photograph
ed the author In the swimming pool while
he was taking morning plunge.
1t was probably this browning audacity
more than anything else that caused At
wood to accept an assignment to do a short
story in the vein, originated, developed and
made famous by him. for the foremost
magazine in America. The price fixed by
the publisher was fabulous and In the
n the anthpr finishing the
fortnight there was to be an honorarium.
which. IL II had come to him in the form
Of retainer when he was struggling
barrister. would have taken his breath.
His aunt. by this time quite ready for a
few days rest, he took into his confidence.
He was to have his meals in his apart
ments and TO be left alone. 1t worked
beautifully, for Mrs. Deering. being a wo-
man, was an artist IN the art of making
you understand without saying so I'm so
many words. 1t was as easy as being
'out'' when she was In or in when she
had just been out"
In few days every one In the little city
knew that Mr.. Atwood was irrdisposed
Nothing serious however-probably out In
week. or two al most Jeanette, the par
Tor maid, always wore a look of distress
when caller asked after the author but
Frightened when assuring the visitor that
ne would be out soon. Sarah, the house
maid, uptoed past his door. Mary, the
cook. would have killed him with dell
caeies" IL he had eaten all she sent up.
Touhey, the gardener was grieved because
OF Atwood's illness, but glad of the oppor-
tunity to drive the kodakers away.
One night Mrs. Deering was awakened
by the low muttering of distant thunder
She fell asleep again. only to be Weakened
by the same ominous noise. She was one
Of those women who can face any amoun
o. real danger, but who tremb.e In the