Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-11-24

interested him, and her every effort at ct
ton failed to draw from him more than
syllable replies.
1t was not, indeed, until Willoughby h;
casually to speak of Cossesly that he seemed
to lose the restraint that had possessed him.
AS he heard that name, however, he looked
up quickly from the plate at which he had
been staring and leaned across the table
toward Willoughby.
Il beg your pardon" he asked. appar-
emily with considerable interest, but was
the Cossesly you mentioned by any chance
Roger Cossesly?"
Willoughby smiled genially back at him.
THAT is the very man. he replied. You
don't mean to tell me that you have met
him out West?"
A long life in the open had taught Lee
to notice little things. He saw now, even
though Willoughby did not, that the men
ton of the mans name had had certain
curious effect upon both his hostess and
his host. The latter was bending over his
plate in a manner that evidently meant to
imply an entire lack of interest in what
was being said, while the former sat quite
still in an unnaturally rigid position, waiting
intently, it seemed, for him to speak. 1t
was this evident constraint that led him to
make his answer so curt as to end the sub
ject.
Yes" he announced briefly, Il have
met him"
His manner failed utterly to impress
Willoughby. Indeed, it appeared that he
did not even notice the tone-one almost
of positive rudeness-with which it was
delivered.
by George!" he exclaimed, beaming.
is he doing? Did you know him well? ~
The volley of questions convinced Lee of
the impossibility of attempting to stop
Wiloughby without showing the others
that he had noticed their embarrassment.
For an instant he was silent as he looked
down into the wine glass he was thought
fully twisting between his thumb and fore
finger, and when he did speak he steadily
kept his eyes on the table before him.
Il can answer all your questions" he
said slowly, 'by answering the last one.
l did not know him we'll; for | met him
only once he paused for just brief in
slant and then continued in a low voice.
1.-The night he died.
The silence that followed his words were
almost painful. Even though he did not
glance at her, Lee knew that Mrs. Essing
tons face had gone quite white, while
he felt her husbands eyes fixed with a
strange, incredulous stare upon his face.
1t was Willoughby at last who spoke.
Dead" he whispered. Poor old Roger
Lee raised his eyes and looked over
"Yes." he replied with nod; he died in II
whispering woman's name
"Gods!" The cry was wrung from Willie
lips, from which the blood had fled.
In his agitation it seemed doubtful
realized what he was saying, nor did Lee tn
Mrs. Essington had heard or had taken OF
it. Indeed, though he had kept his eyes
averted from her, he could have sworn tina
taneously with Willoughby's cry he had HI
take her breath in sharply as one does who is
with mortal agony.
He had small opportunity, however, to S
upon the reason for this; for all at once a
thing happened. Slowly and painfully, v
movements of one who has grown old in a
Willoughby swung in his chair and turned
gray and livid with pain, toward Essington
Dick!" he managed to say in a low VIC
shook and trembled painfully. God for
it is we who are to blame for that-you ar
His words had a most extraordinary effe
the man to whom they were addressed. AS
them the stem of his wine glass snapped
fingers, permitting the wine to fall upon the
dyeing its spotless white a brilliant carmin
involuntarily he half struggled to his feet.