Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-07-08
CHAPTER x.
The Accident Upon the Road.

The Accident Upon the Road.
Was Eta Romney dead or would the
months recreate herr
Evelyn believed that they would. The In
tolerabe ennui Of her life at Melbourne
festered the atmosphere in which such
dreams as hers were born and reared She
had that in her blood which no make-be-
lieve could prison. Had the whole truth
been told. 1t would have set her down for
a gypsy OF gtpsies-a true child of the road
side and the caves. But the truth was just
the one thing her father hid from her.
Il met your mother at Vienna" he had
told her once when an illness had moved
him to that affectiorate confidence which
weakness is apt to provoke. She was
Dora d'Istran, the most beautiful woman
In the city and one most run after You
are ike her sometimes, Evelyn; you have
her eyes and hair. and Just such a manner
She understood me as no one else In the
world has ever done not even nv little
daughter. I married her in the face Of my
family and never regretted the day. She
died when You were eleven months old.
i've again through that hour which took
her from me every day Of my life"
Here was no weak confession. Through
out bis life this man had been seeking a
good womans love. Knowing in his heart
that he had done things unworthy Of it, he
sought II yet more ardently for that very
reason. One woman, hts wife. had under
stood him and given him Of her whole soul
generously. Her death left him a vagrant
once more. In vain he, a m:ser to Others
lavished generous gifts upon Evelyn. his
child. She would love me II she could -
he told himself. but there is a chord In
her nature l cannot strike" A keen OBJ
server OF lntuitive faculty would have said
that the mans nature. not the woman's in
Evelyn Forester forbade her 10 respond
20 his affection.
OF this Evelyn herself remained quite I'M
conscious. Fret she might against her
fathers unjust and inexplicable treatment
Of her, she would have resented hotly the
suggestion that she had not a daughter s
love for him. Her very obedience, she
thought, must be sufficient witness 10 that
Though he made prisoner of her she
rarely uttered complaint His varying
moods. now OF doung affection. now Of ir-
ritation and temper. found her patient and
silent When he did a mean thing she
shuddered. but rarely spoke OF It. because
she knew that words would not helm her
Her own life had been lived so far apart
from his. She wished with all her heart
that it had not been so; but she could not
Justly blame herself for circumstances she
was In no way able to control.
This had been her attitude before her
great escapade in London; II remained her
attitude upon her return to Derbyshire She
met her father each morning at the break
fast table, dined with him in solemn state
at ENTHUSIASTICALLY received visits from
their neighbors. and was sometimes the
guest OF the vicar of the parish a pleas
ant oiu Cambridge OOn. Dy name Harry
Fillmore. But IN the main Evelyn lived
alone. IN the wild glsdes OF the beautiful
park. down by the silent pool of the river
Just she had lived and dreamed In the
old days OF the longing for the world its
glamor and its glories. And now she had
a great secret to take to the green woods
with her. Day by day. as some sylph OF
the thickets. the true Romany child reacted
the thrilling scenes OF the brief weeks of
triumph in London. Her hair wild about
her shoulders. her eyes rejecting the
dreams. she would crouch by the rivers
bank and play Narcissus to the reeds.
1T was !. Etta-yes, yes-Just the little
Eta looking up from the waters-I went
20 London-I played at the theater-they
said / was successfully offered me
money-to Eta Romney, just little Eta
Romney. And now it's all over. Eta Is
dead and Evelyn has come back. shall
never go 10 London again. shall die per-
haps. down there among the reeds in the
river. Oh. II some one only would love me,
some one understand me. And lis forever
In this lonely observation-disclosures"
Such regrets We're neither hysterical nor
unusual She knew that there was some
great void In her life. some desire ungrati-
fed which mu-t haunt her to the end: and
this knowledge drove her day by day along
those paths of solitude which her father
wished her to tread. though never would
he have confessed as much. His lavish