The Richmond palladium. (Richmond, Ind.) 1906-1907, 1906-10-25

consciously iag the aEss tlaae.
But the corridor. as we'll as the room.
WAS empty. he was toe late. He stood
irresolute: then he laughed shortly.
turned and passed back toward the
fireplace.
The blow had fallen the inevitable
come to pass. and nothing remained
but TO take the fact with as good
grace as possible. Chilcote's telegram
had summoned him to Clifford's inn
at o'clock. and il was now well on
toward q. He pulled out his watch
Chiieote's watch. he realized with
touch of grim humor as he stopped to
examine the dial by the light OF the
fire-then. as il the humor had verged
TO another feeling he stood straight
again and felt for the electric button
in the wall His fingers touched ii.
and simultaneously the room was
lighted
The abrupt alteration from shadow
10 light came almost as a shock The
feminine arrangement of the tea table
seemed incongruous beside the sober
books and the desk laden with papers
homogeneous as his own presence in
the place. The thought was unpleas-
ant. and he turned aside as If TO avoid
il. but at the movement his eyes fell
on Chilcote's cigarette box with its
cleaning monogram. and the whim-
steal suggestion Of his first morning
rose again. The idea that the inani-
mate objects. in the room knew him
for what he was. recognized the inter
loper where human eyes saw the right
full possessor. returned 10 his mind
Through all his disgust and ehagrin
smile forced itself 10 his lips. and.
crossing the room for the second time
he passed into Chilcote's bedroom.
There the massive furniture and
somber atmosphere fitted better with
his mood than the energy and action
which the study always suggested
Walking directly TO the great bed, he
sat on its side and for several minutes
stared straight in front of him. appar-
emily seeing nothing: then at last the
apathy passed from him. as his pre-
vious anger against Chilcote had pass
ed. He stood up slowly. drawing his
long limbs together. and recrossed the
room. passing along the corridor and
through the door communicating with
the rest of the house. Five minutes
later he was in the open air and walk
ing steadily eastward, his hat drawn
forward and his overcoat buttoned up.
As he traversed the streets he allow
ed himself no thought Once, as he
waited in Trafalgar square to find a
passage between the vehicles, the re-
membranee of Chilcote's voice coming
out of the fog on their first night made
itself prominent but he rejected IL
quickly, guarding himself from even
an involuntary glance at the place of
their meeting. The Strand, with its un-
ceasing life came to him as something
almost unfamiliar. Since his identified
ton with the new life no business had
dra wn him east of Charing Cross, and
his first sight of the narrower stream
of traffic struck him as garish and I'M
pleasant. AS the impression came he
accelerated his steps, moved by the
wish to make regret and retrospection
alike impossible by a contact with ac-
tual forces.
Still walking hastily, he entered Cliff
ford's inn. but there almost uncon-
sciously his feet halted. There was
in the quiet immutability of
the place that sobered energy, both
mental and physical: a sense OF
hangelessness-the changelessness of
inanimate things, that rises in such sol
emn contrast to the variableness OF
mere human nature, which a new en-
new outlook, sometimes
even new presence, has power to up
heave aud remold. He paused, then
with slower and steadier steps crossed
the little court and mounted the Ia
miliar stairs OF his own house.
ITO Be Continued.)