Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-02-24

Their. and-ah! It was better that he had
passed On!
Ciandonald. as has been said, had uneY/
pectedly stepped in through , an arch G
Helen Carstairs had just left to go to
write her letter to Mariol, weeping alone
and 1ovelier than even he had remembered
her.
II Miss winstanley had been on her
guard. or chatting with a friend. or sitting
with her book and looking up with pleas
ant smile as he drew near. Lord Clandon-
aid might not have forgotten himself. as he
Without q moments forethought. follow
ing out the impulse one has to console q
child whom one finds in distressful solitude.
he made toward her a buoyant movement.
taking her hand in both Of his and dropping
upon the bench beside her.
In her present period Of believing herself.
as 1t were. deserted by John and Helen.
who. SO fitted for one another, had. fgure-
lively, scared away out Of her ken upon a
rosy cloud. the girl welcomed Clandonald
with lips and eyes too eloquent to be mis-
taken. Feeling that he must speak. know
Ing that he ought to choose his words most
carefully he ended by doing nothing OF the
kind.
"Oh, please don't cry.'' he simply said:
You are too dear and lovely ever to shed
a tear! II you were mine"
In books It is where people make the
beautiful set speeches that come OUT JUST
right as to semicolons and PERIODS, oesides
fitting exactly into place IN conversation.
In real life. under strong emotion. .n.nss
are said brokenly that often have neither
grammar, rhyme nor reason. This man
certainly never meant to make love to this
girl out OF q clear sky. But his voice,
his face. his manner, were all those OF q
lover such as Posey had not known In her
brief experience. And the worst OF 1t was,
the same unaccountable, unbldden feeilng
Of delight again rushed over her tnat she
had felt for him upon the ship. 1t seemed
IL
to Jingle in her veins! She thought he was
the brightest, noblest object her eyes mao
ever rested upon, not mere lauity man
idealized. In plain words, the old, old
story was told again in the garden OF
But Posey had gained in self-control since
her experience of the world. She checked
the radiant return movement toward
Clandonald. who. also pulling himself TO-
gether, guiltily arose and stood at some
distance away from her, holding his nat
like a shy schoolboy, without saying an
other word.
"Tm not crying she remarked. some
a ' sad sort Of talk I'VE just had with my
friend, Miss Carstairs, who's staying with
me, as you know. She told me, by the
way, you'd been SO nice to her on the
journey. and 30 had M De Marioi. we
looking forward to the dinner this even
ing I didn't think you would call again
today :.
'sNeither did t. he said, but when It
came to waiting for my aunt's dinner hour
had to. l hope you won't mind my tax
ing the short cut to Paradise, without ring
ing at your front door. 1t got me here the
sooner. see? And as my aunt had hap
pened to let fall that you always came to
the orange walk about this time, ven
tured upon the liberty. But l didn't dare
expect such good luck as finding you quite
alone"
Helen has just left me-" she answered.
little confused by his ardent gaze. Il
can see that it astonished you to find me
so much grander than I was. But for me.
I'm already used to 1t. Oh! Do you know,
had the greatest satisfaction yesterday.
That Mrs Vereker, who snubbed me SO on
the ship, you remember, and that stunned
image of Mr.. Brownlow, were both
lunching at the Gold Club, at table by
themselves: and seeing us with some peo-
pie they thought worth while, came up
and spoke to me. almost humbly"
How did you treat them in return!
II said, oh! really Are you in Cannes?
And then the grand duke asked me some
question, and I turned away to him. II
the grand duke hadn't happened to be
there it would have been no fun at ALL
You see how wicked and worldly have
grown Then Mr.. Browniow asked II he
we were so much engaged we hadn't
any day at home Mrs. Vereker Is dying
to know Lady Campstown, who doesn't
care whether she meets q leader In New
York or a leader in Allison's Cross
Roads. won't ask you to tell me about
your travels, for darling Lady Camps
town has read me every line OF your late