Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-12-01
CHAPTER H.

/ lieved that she wished it. She whispered
the words TO herself: II wish l was dead.
| I only wish I was dead The wall was
| just before her eyes. in reach of her
| hand. and with her finger she traced the
outlines of bouquets and ribbons that re-
| peated themselves again and again on the
| wallpaper. while she hay thinking. think
| ing. thinking. At night she stared with
widely opened eyes through the heavy
darkness of the room at the lesser dark
ness outside the muslin curtains of the
window. And by night and by day hot
shame swept over her. in great waves,
every time that she thought of Mr.. Jack
| One thought especially made her like a
swimmer struggling. drowning in vast
sea of shame.
1t was the second time that she had
proposed to Mr.. Jack. This was the
thought that completely overwhalm ed
her. For years now she had flushed holly
whenever she remembered that a child
she asked Jack 20 marry her. That was
a thing even a child should not have
done. And now that she was grown up
her father, acting as ambassador, had
done it for her again. Mr. Jack II he
heard of the second diplomatic proposal
and could one hope that he would not
sooner or later hear of it?-would imme-
diately recall the first most braZenly d.
rect proposal.
Mrs Price, with handkerchief, plain
water and eau de cologne. could not take
the throb from ones forehead, or, with
tea and lemonade. Stake the fever of this
dreadful thought. Only one alienation of
torment was within the scope of Mrs.
Price.
"Pricey keep DR.. Blake away. Don't
let him be fetched. If he comes here
questioning me. l shall go out of my mind
or get up and commit suicide"
- DvsTL
sorely
''Oh, my pet, We must fetch him If you
amt yourself. You do seem worse than
the headache should make you"
IT'S only Neutrality-suspicious. crisis
of nerves." said poor Lizzie, compelled to
account for her troubles. and perhaps
achieving a lucky fiuke in diagnosis.
Promise you'll keep DR.: Blake away. At
any rate. till tomorrow"
IT'S on'y her nerves, SIR said Mrs.
Price. downstairs, with a long face.
And she'll be better tomorrow"
Lizzie thought of herself as a woman
who had offered her heart to a man, who
had earned the reprobation of all woman
kind-even though the offer had been
made Internationally, quite by accident.
She thought Of herself as grown up; yet
in truth she was only a child still. In
spite of her twenty-five years, she was
childlike in feeling and sentiment; no
more real "grown-up' than the young
at forty. or Mr.. Ridgworth at fifty. The
soft, enervating southern air had kept
her, too. young and foolish. But as she
lay now painfully brooding over the pres
ent and the past 1t was as though her
childhood was slipping from her forever.
This was the end Of all her childish
dreaming. This was what her nonsense
had brought-writhing shame. shaking
fear of public discovery and worldwide
disgrace.
Wtrot bad bar love boan2 NotbinO
really-as she had told her fathsr-vague
smoke rising here and there from little
rubbish heaps of thought set on fire by
careless fancies; vague fumes lowering
sence OIL idiocy laboriously distilled from
hundreds of trashy library novels. Not
Jack Vincent, the man himself, had been
the object of her desire, but splendid
impossibility; not live hero, but all the
heroes in all Mr.. Mees' novels rolled into
The real Mr.. Vincent had no power over
her; she was only In love with his shining
ghost. That was her love, as 1t seemed
to her now. and yet she had been unable
babble of her folly. The craving to talk
of it had rendered her an incompetent
guardian of her own secret.
Then she thought of her school days.
and the schoolgirl loves about which they
all used to chatter. Every girl in the
school who had passed her fourteenth
birthday was In love with somebody-the
school doctor, the Eastbourne curates, the
Eastbourne riding masters, or, failing
such handy local lovers just the actors
statesmen, soldiers chosen from the re-
volving racks Of picture postcards. One
girl-Edie Pritchard-had a hundred and
twenty-three postcards bearing the por-
trait OF famous general She could love
none other. and If nothing came Of It. If
they should never meet, or he should be
killed in battle, she would live and die
minated. She said SO herself. Sybil Cor
ing worshiped the music master, @ no
toriously married man, who came to i'm
part expression to the elder girls when
force and accuracy Il worship him"
said Sybil, not in the least hiding her Sc
cret. Il would lie down before his feet
and let him trample on me. Look
access of maidenly confusion, Sybil ran
away from her all-unconscious enslaver.
They talked of their loves. whispered
as they trudged two by two. were chaffed
and teased about their loves; suffered
heart pangs one minute. enjoyed almond
rock the next. and in the end no harm
came to them from the love or the sweet
meat. Both were forbidden by the school
authorities. but the almond rock was the
more dangerous of the two; it woke you
seriously uncomfortable. whereas a freely
discussed love never yet kept school
! girl awake.
Thinking of these matters, poor Lizzie
Crunden reached something like a calm
| analysis and worked out her general law.
Love talked of vanished: like a volatile
gas it fioated away in chatter and
| laughter. innocuously mixed itself with
the sunlit air and produced no explosion.
1t was deadly and tremendous only when
you bottled 1t up too closely. II she could
have obtained girl friends for trusting
confidence, she would have been cured OF
| Mr.. Jack long ago. She was almost
| bursting when her father sternly ques-
| toned her and Mr.. Jack came gurgling
out with . most laRentable expansion.
Well, she thought, she was cured now,
| but, alas, at what cost!
Old Crunden came upstairs to see her
| once or twice while the crisis of nerves
| still endured. He sat by the bed, patted
her shoulder, took her hot hand and
stroked 1t softly.
Lizzie. my dear, don't let yourself
down like this
Il can't help 1t. father; I can't get over
your telling Sir John"
| Don't you worry about that; it was
just between Sir John and me. 1t won't
go any further
why did you?'
Il don't know. For half an hour l was
under the spell myself. | suppose. But i
want to break the spell forever
Another time Mr.. Crunden, sitting by
the bed, appealed to LiZZe's pride and
courage.
Liz, my lass. don't lower yourself: get
I'll, =