Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-09-22
BY
C. N. and A. M. WILLIAMSON,
Authors OF
THE LIGHTNING CONDUCTOR.

was sorry when l made it. and my laugh
didn't ring true. There was shadow on
Raours face-that dear. sensitive face OF
his. which shows too much feeling for a
man in this work-a-day. strenuous world
but had a little time to comfort him
1T will be like coming to life again to
J see you" ! said. And now. goodbye! No,
not good bye. but au revoir.
sent him away and flew into my dress
ing room next door. where Marianne was
growing very nervous and aimlessly SHIFT
ing my makeup things on the dressing
table, or fussing with some part OF my
dress for the next act
There's a letter for you, mademoisepe.
said she. The stage doorkeeper has Just
brought it round. But you haven't time to
read ii now
\ wave of fairtness swept over me. Sup
posing Ivor had had bad news and thought
It best to warn me without delay?
Il must read the letter. l insisted. Give
il to me at once.
Occasionally Marianne twho has been
with me for many years and is old enough
to be my mother) argues matter on which
disagree, but something in my voice, l
suppose made her obey me with extraor-
binary prOmptneSs. Then came shock
and not of relief. l recognized on the en-
velope the handwriting of Count Godansky.
l know that l am not a coward. Yet 1t
was only by the strongest effort Of will that
! forced myself to open that letter. l was
afraid afraid of a hundred things But
most of all. I was afraid of learning that
the treaty was in his hands 1t would
be like him to tell me he had 1t and try
to drive some dreadful bargain.
Nerving myself. as l suppose a con-
d-mned criminal must nerve himself to go
To the gu!llOtine or the gallOws, l opened
the letter. For as long as l might have
looked black before my eyes, as If ink were
split over 1t, blOtting out the words; but
the dark snudge cleared away. and showed
me-nothing, except that. If Alexis Goden-
,1. I1,-
sight Of 1t until later, when he chose.
My dear Maxine" he began his letter.
though he had never been given the right
to call me Maxine, and never had dared 50
to call me before Il must you and
talk to you this evening. alone. This for
your own sake and that of another. even
more than mine. though you know very we'll
what 1t Is to me to be with you. Perhaps
you may be able to guess that this is i'm
pOrtant l am 50 sure that you Will guess.
and that you will not only be willing but
anxious to me tonight, If you never
were before. that l shall venture to be
waiting for you at the stage door when you
come out.
Yours. in whatever way you will.
"ALEXIS."
If anything could have given me pleasure
at that moment it would have been to tear
the letter In little pieces, with the writer
looking on. Then to throw those pieces in
his hateful face and say, That's your an
swer."
But he was not looking on. and even II ne
had been I could not have done what
wished. He knew that l would have to
consent to him, that he need have no
fear ! would profit by my knowledge of his
intentions to order him sent away from the
stage door | would have to see him. But
how could l manage it after refusng-as l
must refuse-tO let Raoul go home with
me? Raoul coming to me after my
death scene on the stage. At the very
least he would expect to put me into my
carriage when l left the theater. even II he
went no further. Yet there would be Co
densky waiting. and Raoul would see him.
What could l do to escape from such an
imDasSe?