Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-02-23

John will accordingly rush through a lot of
things in New York, tear back again, prob
fast ships, and where his trousseaus to
come in l can't imagine. My own will take
every minute from now till then, and all
of the missionary aid you two dears choose
to lend me, to make 1t an accomplished
fact
You can count upon me in all things"
Helen said very Quietly.
'Oh, my dear lamb, and you ask me to
be glad when it means that I've got to lose
you," put in Lady CampStown, thinking for
the moment honestly about herself, and
thereby covering what might have been
trying pause to both girls. A servant, pre-
senting a tray of coffee cups at Lady
Campstown's side, helped further to bridge
the moment, and others OF Poseys guests
surrounding her with chat and laughter, the
question Of the marriage f1oated into space.
Helen, however, took it back to her hotel
with her. wrestled with it during sleepless
hours, and next day, to stave off lntolerable
thought set out for a long walk alone.
Whittier she went she neither cared nor
knew. She had vague remembrance OF
having passed through the flower market
and being set upon to buy by soft-Volced,
blurs of red and yellow and white and
purple, shrined in verdure from which lus-
cious scent arose. To get rid OF her she
had paid a persistent child franc for
big bunch of violets, and the girl. with a
| saucy, merry face, thrust into her hand
also a spray of orange blossom. Helen
threw this last away impatiently. Impos-
sible to be rid of the suggestions OF that
wedding tenfold more abhorrent to her
now that she had seen for herself and knew
beyond a peradventure that it was inspired
by no such love as she and John mad 1elt
! for each other only day or two before;
such love as she must feel for him. God
help her. till she died.
| She walked on through the town, far
| into the outskirts, till seeing sign or New
Milk" upon chalet near the road made her
suddenly remember she had set out without
| even her morning coffee. Going inside the
| building, she sat for a few moments at a
| table while woman served her WIN IoIiS
| and a glass of milk, and then, starting forth
again was vaguely tempted to ascend a
| hillside which rose abruptly above the spot,
| crowned with a noble growth OF trees.
Helen had no sooner gained the SmooCn
! plateau of the summit than she remembered
| where she was. Long ago, as a cmlo, III
| charge of her English governess, 1ourneylhs
| from the Italian Seashore to JOIN ner rather
| at Marseille, they had stopped over TOT a
midsummer fete at Mont st. Cassien, where,
| in blazing heat, the Cannois ana their rus
| tic neighbors from miles around had 1ulhileo
| an old custom of Provence In noiolng serV
| ice at a little chapel on this hill, the re-
| mainder of the day and evening beinS spent
! in feasting at tables spread on the slopes
| and In the green valley below. She couiu
shut her eyes and see again the e., ns hot
| cleaning around the tables, as the not
| darkness fell, the gay costumes, ana tne
chain of dancers threading its way among
| the trees. go
The grass was growing wild and coarse
, where she followed shaded path to the
| little hut in which a holy hermit had once
! lived and died. peasant woman In the
kitchen of the hermitage was cooking some
! thing in a CASSEROLE over a tiny tlre, put sne
| left il civilly to conduct the stranger
| through to the chapel adjoining. glri
! grown to woman's height, but aias, chio
| in intellect. began pulling and tugglng at
| her mothers gown, asking witless ques-
| tions and being repeatedly but tenderiy
| thrust aside by the woman, and told 10
| stay in her own place.
| Helen hardly knew why she had acceu1 Ia
! to the woman's suggestion that she snouio
! visit the. embarrassing sanctuary, with us
| cheap emblems and smell of stale incense,
ana decorations of paper flowers
But she understood, when through the
! now opened front door a gentleman stepped
| from broad sunshine into the chill interior,
! apparently as aimless as herself, and came
up TO her side
Helen! You are alone?"
| You herev she answered. under her
| breath when / have come all this dls-
lance to be away from you?
| 1T is the same with me, Helen, Giynn
| said in n somber voice. Il have wandered
| and wandered up here for no reason in par
| ticular trying to believe you are not IN
| Cannes, trying to master my ungovernapie
desire to be with you only once again:
| at is all of piece with our being thrust
| together that day upon the train, she
| cried. impetuously. What have we Done
that things should be forced upon us?'
Come out at least into the sunshine" ne
| said. taking her cold hand. You Will be
| chilled In this dreary place"
| Giving a douceur to the poor guardian OF
the premises. they went together to a point
| Of the hillside wherein the trunk OF fallen
| tree offered semblance of seat.
| Helen, actually nerveless, dropped upon
it, Glynn standing beside her, neither daring
| to speak first.
| You know that am leaving tomorrow
he asked finally.
..Posey told me so last night" she an
1 swered.
'.She told you what was to follow my re-
turn at the end of March?
| Yes"
'"The question Is, Am I man of honor OF
a scoundrel?" he went on. with frowning
brow. II have thought of it so long. so in
tensely that my Judgment has ceased to
act. Helen. you have the clearest mind, the