The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1905-02-08


passionate, now pleading, and Lucilla,
with falling tears bent her head over
the withered leaves of faded rose
Vincent sailed to seek better fortune,
a kinder fate in other lands. And Lu-
ella waited TO see him again, counting
the hours, while time sped into years.
"You must really come with us to the
theatre tonight" declared Lucilla' S
great friend, Elsie Southwood. "Felix
has such a nice box, and is going to
bring Mr.. Glenroy. You know, Lucilla,
you always wanted to meet him."
Lucilla reused herself; she was near
ly always absorbed in reverie now.
''The man, you mean, who has the
gift of reading in peoples faces their
fate"
Yes. l wonder If he will tell us
ours. OF course | know mine; I'm al
ways going to be as happy as the day
is long, with my precious Felix, reg
ular Darby and Joan couple. But
aren't you longing to have yours told
to know whether you'll marry for love
or money, and wander far or live and
die at home, and all that knid of thing?
Felix says he is wonderful when he
can be persuaded to do it for anyone,
but he won't tell some people at all
if he can see death or misery in their
faces, or anything like that"
inadvertently Lucilla said: "Oh, then
he won't tell miner
| Elsie stared. But you're not going
to die, Lucilla; you're too young.
You're a year younger than 1 am, and
people don't die at twenty-four unless
| they're i'll. And you're not miserable,
you've everything to make you happy.
| It's other people you make miserable.
| When are you going to marry my
brother Fred? Every one knows he's
deeply in love with you"
Perhaps some day, perhaps never"
said Lucilla, indifferently; "but III go
to the theatre, Elsie, if it's only to see
Mr.. Glenroy, and in the hope that he'll
read us our fate. I confess l am in
| tensely interested. Indeed, 1 long,
| above all things, to know what the fu-
ture holds in store for me-"
Lucilla found herself seated with her
back to the stage, with Mr.. Glenroy at
her elbow. The play was a popular
melodrama, in four acts, and with
three long intervals.
Lucilla did not give much of her
attention to the play, so occupied was
she with her companion. He was a
gray-haired man of middle age and
middle height.
His features were good and regular,
with well-formed nose, and large,
rather full blue eyes. His face wore
an expression of great kindness and in.
telligence, and he had peculiarly
sympathetic voice and manner which
won the confidence ut once.
He appeared deeply interested in Lu-
ella, and talked freely to her between
the acts, and not the ordinary small
change of conversation either. Soon
they were discussing personalities.
you're not happy" he said, under
cover of the orchestra; you must not
mind my saying So"
But what makes you say so?" asked
Luci1la, quickly.
81 generally speak the truth to peo-
ple," he said, whimsically, "if speak
at all; but sometimes they contradict
me-"
"You are right" she said, in low
voice. II won't gainsay YOU"
"And if you are not careful you have
more unhappiness to come"
"Oh, don't, don't say that she cried,
alarmed. "Tell me what is this
strange gift you have of reading peo.
pies future in their faces"
1T is no gift" he responded, smiling,
"merely the faculty of observation and
deduction very acutely developed. And
then, my theory is character makes
fate-is fate. Gauge thoroughly a per-
sons character, and you may predict
with more or less certainty her fate"
And my character-my fatep she
breathed.
"The keynote of your character" he
said, promptly, sis pride. Pride
through and through, always pride,
and pride again. 1t has shipwrecked
your life already" In low voice he
added: 'There is always the danger it
may do so again. Don't let it."
1T is hard" she responded, "that
ones temperament should predestine
one to disappointment"
Eyes, if you ask too much of life,"
he said. quickly. But don't you ad-
just the balance yourself? Can you. of
all people, say that no one pays the
price of your suffering with theirs?"
A picture of Fred Southwood's face,
now with the love light on Il. now
darkened by despair, rose up before
her. She dropped her eyes, unwilling
TO return truthful answer.
The curtain had gone up, and in the
slight confusion which ensued in the
boxes, consequent on the return of
many occupants to their places, she no
tieed young man, whose appearance
seemed familiar, yet unfamiliar, make
his way to his seat.