Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-03-27

DEMOCftAl, lOE6DA sight when he came down, and he, too, took cab with an explosive order to the drivers "124 Tejon avenue, and be quick about it"
 It was the housemaid that answered the ring at the door of the Brentwood apartment. She was Swede, re- cent importation; hence Kent learned nothing beyond the bare fact that the ladies had gone out. With MT. Orms- by" he asked
 "Yaas; Aye tank it will pee dat yen tlemans."
 The pursuer took the road again, rather unhopefully. There was dozen places where Ormsby might have taken his charges. Among them there was the legislative reception at Portia Van Brooks. Kent Tipped flgurative coin. and gave the order for Alameda Square. The reception was perhaps the least unlikely place of the dozen.
 He was no more than fashionably late at the Van Brock house, and for tunately he was able to reckon him. self among the chosen few for whom Miss Portia's door swung on hos pitable hinges at all hours. Lor- ing had known her in Wash ington, and he had stood sponsor for Kent in the first week of the exile's residence at the capital. Thereafter she had taken Kent up on his own ac- count, and by now he was deep in her debt. For one thing, she had set the fashion in the matter of legisla- tive receptions-her detractors, know ing nothing whatever about 1t, hinted that she had been an amateur social lobbyist in Washington, playing the game for the pure zest of it-and at these functions Kent had learned many things pertinent to his purpose as watchdog for the railroad company and legal advisor to his chief-things not named openly on the floor of the house or the senate chamber.
 There was a crush in the ample mansion in Alameda Square, as there always was at Miss Van Brooks "open evenings" and when Kent came down from the cloak-room he had to inch his way by littles through the crowded reception-p -parlors in the search for the Brentwood party. It was un- successful at first; but later, catching a glimpse of Elinor at the piano, and another of Penelope inducing an up-, country legislator into the mysteries of social small-talk, he breathed freer. His haphazard guess had hit the mark, and the finding of Ormsby was now only question of moments.
 It was Miss Van Brock, herself, who told him where to look for the club man-though not at his first asking.
 Loring had told him Miss Van Brooks story. She was southern born, the only child of a somewhat ill-con- sidered match between a young Cali fornia lawyer, wire-pulling in the na- tional capital in the interest of the Central Pacific railroad, and a Vir- ginia belle tasting the delights of her first winter in Washington.
 Later, the young lawyers state, or his employers, had sent him to con- gress; and Portia, left motherless in her middle childhood, had grown up in an atmosphere of statecraft, or what passes for such, in an era of frank commercialism. Inheriting her moth- er's rare beauty of face and form, and uniting with it the sympathetic gift in grasp of detail, political and other, she soon became her fathers confi- dante and loyal partisan, taking the place, as a daughter might, of the ambitious young wife and mother, who had set her heart on seeing the Van Brock name on the roll of the United States senate.
 Rensselaer, Van Brock had died be- fore the senatorial dream could be re- alized, but not before he had made sufficient number of lucky investments to leave his daughter the arbitress of her own future. What that future should be. not even Loring could guess. Since her fathers death Miss Van Brock had been a citizen of the world. With widowed aunt for the shadowiest of chaperons, she had drift ed with the tide of inclination, coming finally to rest in the western capital for no better reason, perhaps, than that some portion of her interest-bearing securities were emblazoned with the great seal of this particular western state.
 Kent was thinking of Loring's re- countal as he stood looking down on her. Other women were younger and with features more conventionally beautiful; Kent could find round dozen within easy eye-reach. to say nothing of the calm-eyed, queenly im- provisatrice at the piano-his constant standard of all womanly charm and grace. Unconsciously he fell to com pairing the two. his hostess and his love, and was brought back to things present by a sharp reminder from Portia
 Stop looking at Miss Brentwood that way, Mfr. David. She is not for you; and you are keeping me wait ing"
 He smiled down on her.
 "0f what use can be to Mir. David Kent this evening""