Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-07-15

Monsieur had another name, of course
but II was French. and 1t was hard to
pronounce. Besides, that was the name by
which Ruth Alien always called him
Monsieur" size would cry. In her young,
unspoiled JOY of life. I've been out In Cen
trail Park today. and the suns like gold
like go!d"' or, Monsieur, I've had another
inspiration, another little poem has come
TO me-wll you correct the meter? or
Monsieur, these violets are very delicious.
burying her dainty nose in their fragrance,
"and did you remember my injunctions-
not from any of TIE big florists, but from
the poorest. shabbiest little old woman you
could find on the street?'
1t was her gayety, her spontaneity. her
sweetness, her childlike, unaffected sym
pathy with the outcast and suffering that
had first attracted monsieur to Ruth Allen.
They were both dodgers In Madame Bla-
yaine'S house near Washington square, al
though the girl and her mother were lodg-
ers in madame's top floor back, while he
occupied the spacious second floor. entire.
"Sapristi!" madame had cried the day
after he had taken possession of his apart
ments "a nobleman-that is what he is! l
can tell an aristocrat from the canaille. All.
I'll buy the Courier des Etats Unis and
see what great man is missing in Europe!
But madame found nothing in the Courier.
Now that her star lodger had been with her
for half a twelvemonth she knew no more
of him than she did at first
AS for Ruth Allen and her mother, they
also had come to see madam's rooms. The
first floor Higher up. madamer' The
third. Higher. madame!' Ma fol! They
must have no purse at all. And they so
smart looking, too!'
1t had been January when the Aliens first
came; now ii was May. The air that stole
softly in through monsieurs study windows
was full Of the lilacs and chestnuts from
the big, old-fashioned yard below. Monsieur
leaned back In his chair and watched Ruth
she talked TO him. She was telling him
of their progress through Italy-her moth
er's ard hers-but particularly of her love
for Rome and Florence. In these cities. it
appeared. she had done with the usual en-
thusiasm all the things one does in youth
For example. she had seen the Colosseum
10y moonlight: got up at dawn to see the
CdOtto fresco in Santa Croce with the sun
light on il; walked to Bellosguardo to see
the sunset. She had picked violets In the
PamphiH gardens; thrown copper into the
fountain of the Trevi, and all the rest.
Monsieur had done the same things when
he was eighteen. and somehow as the girl
talked, the feeling of eighteen seemed to
come back 10 him for a few seconds. He
remembered little Italian girl whom he
had adored In FlOrence-her name was Ia
BETA something or other-and they had be-
come engaged In Santa Croce, regardless of
the neglected frescoes they had come TO
see! He recalled the warmth OF the entic-
Ing April sun when they came out into the
square, and the whirr of the pigeons flying
about the statue of Dante. He sighed.
What is the matter. Am l boring your
Ruth sat up very erect, on her guard
against the horrible blunder of being young.
No, no, child. Tell me more about it
your travels"
But she looked al him suspiclously. "It
can't really interest you, monsieur I've
only done what you must have done a hun
dred times"
Precisely" he answered with a singular
RentleneSs. But you don't know wnat II
IS. little one-the charm of the first <imel
No one knows II until It's long gone. Is 1t
not so. Mrs Allen% He turned deferen-
TALLY to the woman who sat enbroidering
on a low rocker close TO the white curtains
that swayed IN the lilac and chestnut laden
breeze.
1t had become almost a daily custom for
Mrs. Allen and Ruth to have an hours
chat or so toward the end Of the afternoon
with monsieur in his big. attractive study.
The books that lined the walls. oh how the