St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1904-11-23

of daughter-and the bills of a wife.
That was all that girl in her position
could do. 1t was the fault of modern
ideas.
1t was after she heard about his at
tentions to the Folsom girl that she
wept no more and became markedly in
different to the coming of the post
man. From this time, too, she con-
scientiously tried to tolerate old Mr..
Fullerton and his flowers, the two ever
arriving with an alternate regularity
that was full of meaning.
She pictured herself as queen again,
and this time with all the outward
semblance of one. But, perversely
enough, she could not keep Steven
Converse out of the scene. If she saw
herself rolling down Fifth avenue in
the Fullerton vehicle she as instantly
evoked the image of Steve dofing his
hat with cold politeness, while she
nodded with the naughty nonchalance
Of great lady.
And SO the weeks heightened into
months, and the ex-queen assured her.
self that she was forgetting.
mot going out, my dear?" protested
her mother as she appeared in the hall
one gloomy Sunday with macintosh
and umbrella.
eyes. mother mine. It's a fine day
for the art museum. No crowd, you
known
She had never entered the place
since that fateful afternoon, but now
she was all a-tremble with eagerness to
get there. Some inward barrier of
pride had gone down, and she knew
that she wanted to visit the scene once
more just because there she could feel
little nearer to him.
The turnstile admitted her, with a
click, not so much, it seemed to her,
into the museum as into the atmos-
phere of that distant afternoon. Be
fore the Victory she stopped for
mournful dedicatory moment. It was
here that he had accused her of being
no more than a statue herself, and
then-then he had gripped her arm and
made her sit down and listen.
With little gulp, she turned away
and wandered blindly onward. When
the mist cleared from her vision she
found herself in the Egyptian ROOM
Great carved figures glared at her with
stolid faces, and a ripple of interest
stirred within her. With mournful eyes
she read the inscriptions beside the
mummy cases.
So this brown and moldering bun
die had once been a queen! Through
the raised lid of the case she could just
catch a glimpse Of the object now so
dried and terrible, but once SO splen-
didly human.
''Poor queenv' she murmured softly,
as with her chin resting on her hand
she gazed down at the gorgeously or
namented mummy case. "Poor queen!'
And before she realized it a tear bad
splashed down on the glass.
Having been queen something of
the sadness and futility Of it all wrung
her spirit. Somehow being rich or poor
did not now seem to matter. Being
happy seemed the greatest thing.
She was too absorbed in her thoughts
to notice young man who had been
making his way nearer and nearer to
her in a somewhat furtive manner.
Suddenly, as if he could not longer re-
sist the temptation, few quick steps
brought him to her side.
The ex-queen looked up in surprise
and then put out both hands impul-
sively. But the proud, high look of
mastery had not yet vanished from
his face.
did you really mean itT' he de
manded.
For an answer she lifted her eyes to
his for one brief, full moment. Even
queens must learn their lesson. She
had had hers.
Outside the steady drip, drip, drip,
of the rain was only interrupted by
the wailing of the wind, and the Egyp.
tan room was very quiet and deserted.
AS the newly enthroned queen turn
ed to leave she looked down with a
flushed, wistful face at the royal mum
my. Then she murmured something
softly.
"What's that?' asked her lover. But
at her reply he looked slightly mysti-
fed.
There's no use in telling you,'' she
laughed. Being only man, you'll new
er understand, but 1 was saying good
by to the other queen"