Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-03-02

evidently horribly i'll at ease in their sur
roundings.
| about Gives mouth were broken by a
| smile Of very genuine pleasure-a smile
! that gave a younger aspect to his grave
| face, and found ready answer In the brown
| eyes that met his.
Haven't you toiled at forlorn hope
long enough?' he asked. as the awed beings
drifted away into the uncomfortable crowd
carrying their burden Of jewels with them
"You actually seemed to be trying to
| galvanize at least segment OF this por-
| tentous gathering into a semblance OF life
Don't do 1t. In the first place you cant.
Saloon keepers and Pompton avenue people
! won't blend In the second place, 1t isn't
| expected of you. The papers tomorrow will
record the right names just as jealousy
as if every one had had good time. Sup
| pose you concentrate all your efforts on
me- Come! 1t will be a real work Of
charity. For Mr.. Conover has just shown
he didn't even hint at the whereabouts OF
| fatted calf Please be merciful and make
me have a good time. It's months since
I've seen you to talk to-
Then why don't you come here oftener?'
she asked, as they made their way through
| the press and found an unoccupied alcove
between two Of the great rooms. I'm sure
Mrs. Conover-
my poor aunt? Shed be frightened to
| death that Conover and 1 would quarrel
! No, no! Tonight is an exception. The first
and the last. l persuaded myself came
| because of Aunt Lettys note, but l really
came for chat with you
She looked at him, doubling how to ac-
cept this bald compliment, but his face was
boyish In its sincerity.
"You and 1 used to be such good friends,
he went on, land now we never see any
more Of each other. Why don't we?"
Il think you know as we'll as l. You no
longer come here-you have not come. |
go almost nowhere since
"Since you gave up all your old world and
the people who cared for you and became a
drudge in the Conover household? If you
were to be found anywhere else you would
see so much of me that I'd bore you to ex-
| tinction. but it would be even unpleasanter
| for you than for me If I were to call on
you here. l miss our old-time talks more
| than can say"
II miss them too. Do you remember how
| we used to argue over politics, and how you
| always ended by telling me that there were
two things no woman could understand
| and that politics was one and finance the
| other?'
And you would always make the same
! retort-that woman's combined ignorance Of
/! politics and finance were pure knowledge as
| compared with the mems ignorance of wo-
men. 1t wasn't especially logical repartee,
\ but 1t always served to shut me up"
II wish we had time for another political
spat. Some day We must. You see, I've
learned such lot about politics and
finance. too-practical politics and finance
|
Decidedly practical I fancy, If Mr.
Conover was your teacher. He doesn't go
In much for idealism.''
| And you?" asked Anice. ignoring the
slur. "Are you still rabid as ever in your
| ideas Of reform? But, OF course, you are
! for read only last week that you had .een
| elected president of the Civic League
| want to congratulate you. It's a splendid
| movement, even though Mr.. Conover de-
| clares it's hopeless"
Good citizenship is never quite hopeless
| even in boss-ridden community like
| Granite and boss-governed commonwealth
| like the Mountain state. The people will
| wake up some day."
| Their shores sound very peaceful anG
regular just now remarked Anice with
| fippancy whereof she had the grace to be
| ashamed.
Perhaps" he smiled, ''the sounds you
:, and Conover mistake for snores may possi-
/ bly, be groans"
How delightfully."- dramatic! That would
sound splendidly on the stump
"It may have a chance to-
What do you mean? Are you going
1 ~