Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-07-08


Loder slept soundly and dreamlessly In
Chiicotes canopied bed. To him the big
room with It's severe magnifcence suggested
nothing OF the gloom and solitude that It
held in its owners eyes, The ponderous
furniture. the high ceiling, the heavy cur
tains, unchanged since the days of Chill
cotels grandfather. all limited at far
reaching ownership that stirred him. The
owl ership was mythical in his regard. and
the possessions mirage, but they filled the
Gay And, surely. sufficient for the day
mat was his frame of mind as he opened
MS eyes on the following morning. and lay
appreeiative of his comfort, of the sur
| Iounaing space, even OF the light that hl-
| .ereo through the curtain chinks. sugges-
i've or world recreated With day ALI
Things seem possible to a healthy man. He
s.re.ched his arms luxurfously. delighting
In the glossy smoothness of the sheets
What was 1t Chiicote had saidY BETTER
mve-for a day than exist for a lifetime.
Ihat was true: and life had begun At
| tina.
He smiled. but without irony Man IL at
ms best at thirty-six. he unused. He has re-
.sIned his enthusiasms and shed his ex-
uoerances; he has learned what TO pick up
ana what TO pass by: he no longer i'm
agnes that to drain a cup one must taste
the dregs He closed his eyes and stretched
again, not his arms only, but his whole
| pody. The pleasure of his mental state In
| sisted on physical expression Then. sit
ting up In bed. he pressed the electric bell
| Chucotes new valet responded.
| Pull those curtains. Renwickn' he said
| mats the timer" He had passed the or
| deal OF Renwick's eyes the night before
The man was slow, even little stupid.
| he drew back the curtains carefully, then
| locked at the small clock on the dressing
.aole. Eight O'Clock. sir. I didn't expect
| the bell so early. SIR
| Lcder felt reproved, and a pause followed
| / n faa
| NO. Not Just yet. I'll have bath first"
Renwick showed ponderous uncertainty
warm War sir?, he hazarded.
Still perpIexed, the man left the room.
| Loder smiled to himself. The chances of
dlscovery In that quarter were not large.
he was inclined to think that Chlcote had
| even overstepped necessity in the matter
OF his Wallets dullness
He breakfasted alone following Chilcote's
habit. and after breakfast found his way to
| the study.
AS he entered Greening rose with the
same concilatory haste that he had shown
| the night before.
| Loder nodded to him. Early at work ?"
he said, pleasantly.
The little man showed instant. almost
ridiculous relief. 'Good-morning. SIR he
said. you. too. are early. 1 rather feared
! your nerves troubled you after I left last
night. for found your letters still unopen-
ed this morning But am glad to see you
look so weH.'
Loder promptly turned his back to the
light. "Oh, last nights letters!" he said
ITO tell you the truth. Greening, my wife
his hesitation was very slight-"my wife
looked me up after you left, and. we Cos
siped. I clean forgot the post" He smiled
In an explanatory way as he moved to the
desk and picked up the letters.
| With Greetings eyes upon him, there was
no time for scruples. With very credisable
GOODNESS he began opening the envelopes
one by one The letters were unimportant
| and he passed them after another to
"a >tv,xr 1fxt$
authority as each left his hand. Again the
| fact that power Is visible in little things
| came to his mind.
| Give me my engasement-book. Green
| ing" he said, when the letters had been
disposed OF.
The book that Greening handed him was
| neat in shape and bound, like Chilcotes
cigarette case. in lizard skin.
As Loder took 1t. the gold monogram
| ~. c." winked at him in the bright morn
ing Light The incident moved his sense Of
| crs In the fraud. 1t seemed. He felt an In
clination to wink back. Nevertheless, he
opened it with proper gravity and SKINNED
| the pages.
The page devoted to the day was almost
full. On every other line were jottings In
/ Chflcote's irregular hand, and twice among,
| the entries appeared a prominent cross In
| blue penciling. Loder's interest quickened
| as his eye caught the mark 1t had been
agreed between them that only engage
| ments essential to Chilcote's public life
| need De carried through during his aO-
| sence. and these. to save confusion, were to
| be crossed in blue pencil. The rest for
| the most part social claims, were to be left
| to circumstance and Loder's inclination,
| Chilcote's erratic memory always account
| ing for the breaking of trivial promises
| But Loder in his new energy was anxious
! for obligations; the desire for fresh and
| greater tests grew with Indulgence. He
scanned the two lines with eagerness. The
| first was an interview with Gresham, one
of Chilcotes supporters in Wark; the other
| an engagement to lunch with Fraide. At
the idea Of the former his interest quick
| ened but at thought of the latter 1t quailed
momentarily. Had the entry been a royal
command 1t would have affected him In
| finitely less. For a space his assurance
| faltered: then, by coincidence. the recollec-
| ton of Eve and Ewes words of last night
came back to him. and his mind was filed
| Because of Chilcote, he was despised ny
Chilcotes wife! There was no denying
/ that in all the pleasant excitement Of the
came to him now linked with remembrance
1 OF the slight. reluctant touch of her fingers.
the family evasive dislike underlying her
glance. 1t was trivial thing, but 1t
| touched his pride as man. That was how
he put 1t to himself It wasn't that he val
| ued this womans opinion-any womans
| opinion: 1t was merely that 1t touched bis
| pride. He turned again to the window and
gazed out the engagement-b still be-
| tween his hands. What II he compelled
| her respect7 What II by his own person
4 atty cl0akeQ under C0llCOteS Identity ne
| forced her to admit his capabiiity? It was
| a matter of pride, after all-scarcely even
| of pride: self-respect was a better word.
| Satisfied by his own reasoning, he turn
| ed back into the room.
See to those letters. Greeping," he said
And for the rest OF the mornings work
| you might go with your Khorasan
notes. I believe We'll all want every inch
| of knowledge we can get In that quarter
| before we're much older. I'll see you
| again later" With reassuring nod he
crossed the room and passed through the
| door.
He lunched with Fraide at his club and
afterward walked with him to Westmn-
ster. The walk and lunch were botn
| memorable. In that hour he learned many
| things that had been sealed to him before
He tasted his first draught of real ella
ton, his first drop of real discontinue
He saw for the first time how a great
| man may condescend-how unostentatiously
| how fully. how delightfully."-. He felt what
| tact and kindness perfectly combined may
accomplish, and ne burned inwardly with
sense Of duplicity that crushed and
elated him alternately. He was John
Loder. friendless, penniless. with no pres
| ent and no future, yet he walked down
WI. - $,,fy farhS nF loxx