The morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1899-1930, 1905-01-24

aHow are you, Mrs. Audleyi" he be-
gan, but a buzz, buzx.x. buss-xx.z,
buxs.z.x.x was all that he got FOR hls
pains, Nor did his frantic ringing nor
the things he said to central avail him.
Don't know, sir, Can't find out"
was all that the distant. impasslve
voice Of the operator vouchsafed, and
with sigh OF eS0speratien he at last
hung up the receiver
She was back In the city then, Some.
where in the wilderness OF brick and
stone that Incompatible voice was
making music. but not for him. Sud.
denly Mrs, Stanton's warning remark
fell upon his ears as II Il had been
spoken by some invisible presence,
Penelope has many Sulturs."
The thought goaded him, While he
tarried allowing mere life and death
matters TO detain him, what might not
have happeuedy The truth came to him
now with terrible. crushing force,
The one thing In life greater than all
other things was love, And, strange
and unnatural as II might seem, he
loved with MI his heart woman
whom he had practically never seen
since that brief, dim half hour In the
Stanton drawing room seemed more
like an encounter Of souls than an ac.
tual meeting, where the sweet. strong
woman OF her had been revealed to
him In that strange. vibrant, caressing
voice.
Inquiry at the Stanton residence did
not put him forward. They were still
in Europe, and the housekeeper did not
know when they would return. Nor
could she tell him anything OF Mrs,
Audley.
Bafiied, but determined, he left no
stone unturned for the next three
weeks, but without success. Edith
Audley seemed to have disappeared In
the crowd OF the unknown, and he
wondered II that fool Stanton would
ever bring his wife back from Europe.
Then, in the most casual manner. the
information that he had sought In vain
came TO him. Waiting moodlly for Il
friend in the Turkish room of the Wal
dorf late one afternoon, the strIdent
repetition of a name at last recalled
him TO his whereabouts.
"Symington! Mr. Symlngton" sang
out call boy in a nasal tone, looking
about as he sauntered
through the room.
None of the men scattered about the
room responded. and the boy tried
another tack.
Card for Mrs. Audley! Card for
Mrs. Audleyr he reiterated, with an
expression that implied that the fel.
low who had sent his card 10 that lady
must be trying TO conceal himself
Then suddenly a gentleman near the
ioor beckoned TO him energeticaly.
"Mr. Symington?" demanded the
BOY. At the gentleman's negative re
ply he looked away very weary. But
when the latter, pressing quarter in
to his hand, asked n certain question
be replied with mitigated severity.
Lanslng's first impression of her
when at last she came toward him in
broad daylight was that she was like
/ reed. The eyes were dark and a
rifle wlstful, the mouth wide, flexible,
with thin, vivid lips And then that
moving voice fell upon his ears for
he third time, and he only knew that
'he was all that he had ever dreamed
If in woman-and more.
"Talk to me! Talk to me!' he would
beg playfully during the weeks that
when he was trying with all
he arts be could master to lead her
70 the point that he had reached at n
pound.
I'M growing jealous Of my own
voice." she said to him at last, with a |
lurt, questioning look in her eyes. II
sometimes think that 1t isn't my
that you care for at all, but
t's only that my voice appeals to you,
touches some chord in you. l don't
lust like It,"
And 1t was then that Lansing told
ler, told her with an ardor that she
,ould not doubt, ending with, Your
1oice, my darling, is the most beautl-
'ul thing in the world, but It's beauti-
'ul because 1t Is you put into sound.
And, being but woman, what could