Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-10-27
Ill.

1t was nearly three-quarters of an hour
later that a tremendous bell, changing
through the house, announced that dinner
had been served.
A wash change of clothes and half
hour of solitude had done much for Mil
banke. He felt more normal, less alienated
by unfamiliar surroundings than he had
done in the first confused moments that had
followed his arrival. The vague sense Of
disappointment and apprehension. the
vague suspicion that Asshlin had undergone
an immense alteration still tormented him
as half apprehended evils ever torment the
minds of those who see and study life as a
thing apart from human nature-but the
immediate effect of the feeling was less
poignant. He unconsciouSly found himself
anticipating the next glimpse of his old
friend with a touch of curiosity and when
the announcement of dinner broke in upon
his medltations he was surprised at the
readiness with which he obeyed the sum-
mons.
His first sight of the dining room came
pleasantly to his senses, numbed by the
long drive and the bare GOODNESS Of his bed
room. 1t was large and lofty; three long,
curtained windows occupied one of its
walls, while from the others numerous pic
lures of dead and gone Asshins looked out
of their canvases from furnished gold
frames; the mahogany furniture, though of
an ugly and ungainly type, was massive,
and over the whole ROOM softening Its Sc
verify ana nlQlnB the TaNdSeS OIL Time, lay
the warm, red glow of a huge peat fire and
| the radiance. Of dozen candles set in heavy
silver sconces.
He stood for moment in the doorway
agreeably conscious of the mingled shadow
and light; then his attention was attracted
to two figures that already occupied the
room.
Asshlin himself was standing by the
hearth, his back to the fire, his feet apart,
while by his side, in evident nervous en-
barrassment, stood little girl of nine or
ten. Instantly he saw his guest Asshlin
put his hand the child's shoulder and
pushed her forward.
Here's the youngest shoot on the old
tree, James, he cried with a laugh Shake
hands with him, Nance
Somewhat uncertainty and very shyly the
child looked up and smiled. She was ex-
tremey pretty, with gypsy-like prettiness
new to Milbanke The only attribute she
had inherited from her fathers family was
the clear, olive skin that distinguished all
the Asshlins. Her dark-brown hair, her
deep-blue eyes. her peculiarly winning smile
had all come to her from her dead mother.
With an embarrassment almost equal to
her own Milbanke extended his hand. The
average modern child he ignored with COM
Portable superiority, but this small girl with
her warm smile and her overwhelming shy
ness was something infinitely more difficult
to deal with. He shifted his position
easily.
How d. you do?' he hazarded. "How
d you do-Nance?'
in his clasp, and the child. still smiling,
made some totally uninteligible reply.
With a boisterous laugh Asshlin ended
the situation.
Easily known you're not a father,
james, he cried. why, you'd have given
her kiss and clinched the business fifty
seconds ago. But you're starving! Where's
that scamp Clo?" He turned again to the
little girl, who had drawn nearer to him for
protection.
She replied but in so low a tone that Mil
banke heard nothing. A moment later he
was enlightened by Asshlin's loud voice.
Did you ever hear Of a thing like that,
James," he exclaimed. What would you
say to a daughter who rides races on the
strand in the dark of October evening.
with the mist enough to give your horses
their death? Pom my word. His face red
dened; then suddenly he paused and
laughed. After all. what's bred in the
bone-eh, James," he said II believe
I'd have done the same myself at fifteen
maybe worse. Do you remember that
night" He checked himself, laughed again,
then sighed. But, catching Milbanke's eye,
he threw off the momentary depression and
turned once more to Nance.
Tell Hannah we won't wait any longer,
like a good child he said. There's no
counting that scalawag." -
(To be continued tomorrow