Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-09-23

the child, the value of the estate being con-
siderably over million sterling
The requisite investigation of the sources of
his wealth cleared up good deal that was
previously obscure. Undoubtedly, he had
been helped in his early career. that of a musi-
clan, by Mrs. Strauss, widow of California
merchant. She educated him, and, yielding
to a foolish passion, offered to make him her
heir if he married her and assumed the name
of Strauss she having already attained some
notoriety in Continental circles under that
designation. She was ntaLdde imdeindtre in
the sense that she would seldom reside more
than few weeks in any one place, while she
positively detested both England and America.
He was kind to her, and she was devoted to
him; but unlimited wealth cloyed when it
involved constant obedience to her whims.
Yet, rather than lose him altogether, she
agreed to his occasional visits to England
during the season. and when hunting was
toward. Eager to shake off the thraldom of
the Strauss regime, he then invariably passed
under his real name of van Hupfeldt.
Hence, when he fell in love with Gwendoline,
and resolved to make her his in defiance of all
social law, he was obliged to tell her that he
was also Johann Strauss, and under obliga-
ton to the Mrs Strauss who had adopted him.
Gwendol1ne's diary, which, with the certifi-
Gates, was found in a bureau, became clear
enough when annotated with these facts. Van
Hupfeldt himself left the fewest possible pa
perS, the letter accompanying the will merely
setting forth his wishes, and announcing that
he desired to marry Violet as an act of repara-
ton to the memory of her sister. This had
become a mania with him. The unhappy
man thought that this way, he could win
forgiveness.
And then the bright world became Valley
of Despair for David Harcourt. During many
a bitter hour he lamented van Hupfeldt's
death. Alive, he was rival to be fought and
conquered; dead, he had interposed that in
Surmountable barrier of great wealth between
Violet and one who was sick for love of her.
Poor David He sought refuge in work, and
ladder; but he could neither forget his Violet
nor follow her to Dale Manor, the inaccessible,
fenced in now by wall of gold
Once, he was in hanson on the way to
Euston, telling himself he was going to Rigs
worth to give the gamekeeper that promised
saying: Why am l trying to fool myself?
That is not the David of my acquaintance"
So he went back, calling in at a florists and
buying huge bowlful of violets, thinking to
humbugging himself egregiously that he
was in Respondent mood when he sat down to
lonely tea in his fiat. He had not seen or
heard of Violet in three long months, not since
he took Mrs. Mordaunt and her to the train
for Warwickshire, and, walking afterward with
Dibbn from the station, he learned the fateful
news of her intoerable inheritance.
He had promised to write, but he had not
written. What was he to say? That he still
loved her, although she was rich? Perhaps he
dreamed that she would write to him. But
no; silence was the steady scheme of things
and work, fourteen hours day work the
solatium, until his bronzed face began to take
on the students cast, and he wondered if he
had ever caught and saddled bronco, or slept
under the stars. Or was it all a dream?
Wanting some bread and being alone. the
char woman having believed his statement
that he would be away until next midday, he
went into the kitchen 1t was now high sum-
mer; hot, with the stable-like heat of London,
and the kitchen window was wide open. Some
impulse prompted him to look out and exam
inc the service lift by way of which van Hup-
driven by mad fear of being held guilty of
Gwendolines death, and again to save his
life from David's revolver
Given steady brain and some little ath-