Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-01-13
WRITTEN FOR THE STAR BY OHIO B. sENGA.

beauty Of the domain had been accumulated
ana heightened in every way suggested by
artistic taste and made possible by UNI
stinted wealth
In accordance with promise made nearly
a year before, Mrs. Mackenzie had come to
sunny Slope Immediately upon her return
from England. In the two weeks that had
passed she had found a most disquieting
element in the presence of Robert Neal, the
orphaned son OF Mrs. Bo-den's brother He
was twenty-three, with a handsome, ex-
pressive face: brilliant. emotional, fasci-
nating-a man of varying moods, great in
tensity Of feeling and morbid sensitive
ness.
He monopolized Jean at once. making no
attempt to conceal his instant infatuation,
and giving Neal Borden no opportunity for
uninterrupted conversation with the girl.
Jean was Enthusiastically fascinated, and
Mrs. Mackenzie was in terror She be-
Iieyed him to be suspicious, jealous, vision
ary-a man most unlikely to bring happi-
ness 10 any woman
She feared to breach the subject to Jean,
and, to her relief, Jean herself most unex-
pectedly presented the opportunity. She
came to her grandmother's room, and shyIy
placed in her lap the little ring and the
note she had treasured for year.
Mrs. Mackenzie read the words with q
lightened heart and radiant countenance.
She noted the date smilingly, and spoke
with glad confidence: This is the day when
you are to wear the ring!"
Jeans cheeks Redeemed.
Or return it.
Mrs Mackenzie raised her black brows
apprehensively. She would have liked to
annihilate Robert Neal.
You are q lucky girl, jean" ignoring
Jeans suggestion. Neal Borden is a man
of whom any woman may be proud, and
one of the wealthiest-
Jean raised her head proudly with an i'm
patient gesture of protest.
DO not speak to me of his weaIth-that
must mean nothing to me.'
For how much of this is Robert Neal re-
h1g1f No.
easily
Jean sat by her grandmother's side, her
hands loosely clasped over her knees her
eyes looking far away, dreamily uncon-
sctous of Mrs. Mackenzie's dsquetude.
Eighteen hundred and ninety-eight seems
a long time ago she murmured absently.
What are you thinking of-about 1S9S?''
Jeans face flushed and paled again under
her grandmothers searching eyes.
II was thinking-Neal Borden must
have been twenty-three then" she stam-
mered. Il was wondering why-why he
didn't go to the
infirmity of rheumatism were seemingly
thrown aside. and Mrs. Mckenzie sprang
to her feet, her black eyes blazing, and her
handsome old face distorted with emotion
Because his duty was at home" she
cried passionately; his grandfather Neal
had just died, and there was the great
Neal property to be cared for Because
he had to consider his widowed mother.
awful day when" the passionate voice
broke and failed After second she went
on with sorrowful pathos: HE never came
back-and Neal, year old he was then,
was all she had. Do you think" she de-
manded. that if it were now. and he were
yours, you would let him go?"
Jean rose slowly. She was a tall girl
and lowered above her grandmother like
a young goddess. A deep flush covered
her usually pale face. and the full scarlet
lips were compressed firmly.
1T is not" she said calmly, at is not
question of my letting him go, nor indeed
of his going; but would want to believe
him brave enough to go if 1t We're required
of him. Lack of bravery is the one thing
l would not tolerate in q man,
She raised her hand with a gesture en-
forcing silence as her grandmother strove
to speak again
II must go, grandmother. I want TO be
alone. | want to think" She looked over
her grandmothers head out of the broad
window, her eyes fixed on the green of the
distant hills, and spoke as if to herself