Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-12-04
THE GAMBLER
KATHERINE CECIL THURSTOIJ,
o Ma
by Kathern Cecil

you. have studied you, since we have been
here together"
And what have you seem"
Clodagh had remembered the card room
and Serracauld-the rose garden and Deere
hurst-with a quick, faint sense of fear
but Gore had taken her hand and with
quiet courtesy. had raised Il to his lips.
nave seen-or believe l have seen
that though you may like these people, may
De amused by them. may even court them.
not one of them is more to you now than
they were In Venice. That is what / be-
lieve. Am 1 right"
And Clodagh. in sudden relief. in sudden
gratitude for his faith. had caught his hand
passionately between her own and looked
up confidently into his face.
You are right!' she had cried. ''Oh,
you are right! They are nothing to me.
Nothing! Nothingr'
And Gore. moved by her vehemence. had
leaned forward and looked deeply Into the
eyes that challenged his
Not one Of them is anything to youth
any way?'
Not one of them is anything to me-in
any way"
That had been the only moment of per-
sonal doubt or question that had obtruded
itseif upon the first hours of mutual COM
prehension- Until more than half the pro-
gram had been danced through and the
older guests had begun to depart they had
walked together up and down the solitary
paths of the old garden upon which the
music room opened-a garden where thyme
and Lavender and hundred other sweet
smelling plants bordered the prim flower
beds and recalled by their scents the days
when the harpsichord had tinkled ont
across the silence of the night. AS they
paced slowly to and fro they had made
many confessions. sweet in the confessing,
or thoughts and desires and doubts felt by
each-when each had believed the other
out of reach and quietly. hesitatingly.
eagerly they had touched upon the future.
upon the days when Clodaghs mourning
should be over and they could permit the
world to share their secret-upon the days.
still later, when their lives should no
whole.
Gore was an unusual and a very delight
full lover. The slight suggestion of reti-
cence that marked him in ordinary life
chung to him even in these intimate mo-
me1ts. He gave the impression that be-
hind his extreme quiet his almost gentle
Difference of manner. lay reserves OF feel
ing, of dignity, of strength that he himself
had perhaps never fathomed.
And for this very reserve, this courtli-
ness, this understandable fineness of bearing
Clodagh felt her own nature leap forth IN
renewed admiration.
At last, at L O'Clock. they had parted he
to smoke and pace the garden paths until
the early summer dawn broke over the
woods, she to wait by the open window of
Nance's bed room, with her face buried in
her hands, her whole being alive and ting
ling with the tumult. the excitement of the
joy that had come to her
At q o'clock next morning, before any
member of the house party was awake.
Gore had made his way to the stables. and
few minutes later had emerged, leading
two Saddled horses. In the drive he had
been joined by Clodagh. dressed in her
riding habit and looking fresh and buoyant
as on the first morning when she had rid
den alone through the great gates and had
dreamed OF his coming to Tuffnell.
No companionship can be more delightful
than that of two people wholly occupied
with each other who ride together on a
H. WI
happiness of that stolen ride, the intoxi-
eating sense of reality conveyed by Cores
glance as she met it in the searching sun
light, had been things that possessed no
parallel. Her natural. spontaneous capacity
for JOY had awakened within her like a
flood of light. The misgivings, the dark
hours. the feverish artificiality of the past
months had been dispersed as If by magic.
She had become a child who, by the fer
vor OF its own u t, sheds delight upon
all around. 900
And so it had been with the days that had
elapsed before their departure from Buck
inghamshire. They had met as often as
chance would permit, but. with the excep-
ton Of the first stolen ride. thy had
ranged no more secret meetings. And t.
Clodagh the half-furtive, ever-expectant ex-
istence had been fraught with new pleas
ure. To talk and laugh with others, to
watch Gore do likewise and all the while to
know that, unseen by any eyes, unsus-
pected by those around them their lives
were linked together, their thoughts be-
longed to each other, was a source Of in
tense excitement, Of unending joy.
To Nance alone did she confde her Sc
cret, and here lay another source of hap
piness, for every night when the house
party had retired, when Simonetta had
been dismissed and the house given over
to the great sheltering stiffness of the
country. the sisters had exchanged such
condolences as all women love-tallxing of
their hopes, their fears, their pasts. their
futures, in the half-reluctant half-eager
confessions that the dark suggests.
Then at last these days of mystery and
possibility had come to an end. Gore had
received a letter from his mother asking
him to join her In Scotland and almost
at the same hour had come a cabegram
from Pierce Estcoit saying that he, with
his mother and sister, had sailed for Eng
land fortnight earliec than they had at
first intended.
So, bidding goodbye to the Tuffnells. to
her fellow-guests and to Gore, Clodagh
had returned to London. And now, a fort
night later, she and Nance were driving
homeward through the park in the warmth
of early afternoon.
(To be continued tomorrow.)