Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1907-01-10

JolllnSS III SHllCole 5 irregular mana,
and twice among the entries appeared
a prominent cross in blue penciling.
Loder's interest quickened as his eye
caught the mark. 1t had been agreed
between them that only engagements
essential to Chilcote's public life need
be carried through during his absence.
and these to ave his confusion were
to be crossed in blue pencil. The rest,
for the o part social claims, were
to be left to circumstance and Loder's
inclination, Chilcote's erratic memory
always accounting for the breaking OF
trivial promises.
But Loder in his new energy was
anxious for obligations. The desire for
fresh and greater tests grew with in
diligence. He scanned the two lines
with eagerness. The first was an in
terview with Gresham, one of Chill
cote's supporters in Wark; the other an
engagement to lunch with Fraide. At
the idea of the former his interest
Quickened, but at thought of the latter
1t quailed m~omentarily. Had the entry
been a royal command it would have
i affected him infinitely less. For a
space his assurance faltered. Then by
coincidence the recollection of Eve and
Ewes words Of last night came back to
him, and his mind was filled with a
new sensation.
Because of Chilcote he was despised
by Chilcote's wife! There was no de-
nying that in all the pleasant excite
ment Of the adventure that knowledge
had ranked. 1t came to him now link
ed with remembrance of the slight, re-
luctant touch of her fingers, the family
eyasive dislike underlying her glance.
1t was a trivial thing, but it touched
his pride as a man. That was how he
put 1t to himself. 1t wasn't that he
valued this woman's opinion-any wo-
mans opinion. 1t was merely that it
touched his pride. He turned again to
the window and gaZed out, the engage
ment book still between his hands.
What If he compelled her respect?
What if by his own personality cloak
ed under Chilcote's identity he forced
her to admit his capability? 1t was q
matter of pride, after all-scarcely even
Of pride; self respect was a better
word.
Satisfied by his own reasoning. he
turned back into the room.
"See to those letters, Greening.' he
said. and for the rest of the morn
ing's work you might go on with your
Khorasan notes. | believe we'll all
want every inch of knowledge we can
get in that quarter before we're much
older. I'll see you again later" Wi
a reassuring nod he crossed the room
and passed through the door.
He lunched with Fraide at his club
and afterward walked with him to
Westminster. The walk and lunch
were both memorable. In that hour he
learned many things that had been
sealed to him before. He tasted his
first draft of real elation. his first drop
Of real discontinue. He saw for the
first time how a great man may con-
descend-how unostentatiously, how
fully, how delightfully."-. He felt what
tact and kindness perfectly combined
may accomplish. and he burned in
wardly with a sense of duplicity that
crushed and elated him alternately.
He was John Loder. friendless, penni-
less, with no present and no future, vet
he walked down Whitehall in the full
light of day with one Of the greatest
statesmen England has known.
Some strangers We're being shown
owe the terrace when he and F'raide
reached the house. and, noticing the
open door, the old man paused.
II never refuse fresh air." he said.
Shall we take another breath of it
before settling DOWN." He took Lo-
der's arm and drew him forward. AS
they passed through the doorway the
pressure of his fingers frightened. II
shall reckon today among my pleasant
est memories. Chilcote," lie said grave
ly. Il can't explain the feeling. but |
seem TO have touched Ewes husband.
the real YOU. more closely this morning
than ! ever did before. 1t has been a
genuine happiness" He looked up With
the eyes that through all his years of
action and responsibility had remained
so bright.
But I4oder paled suddenly. and his
glance turned to the river-wide. mys,
FERROUS. secret. Unconsciously Fraide
had stripped the illusion. 1T was not
John Loder who walked here: it was
Chilcote-Chilcote with his position, his
constituency-his wife. He half extri,
Gated his arm. but Fraide held it.
mo" he said. Don't draw away
from me. You have always been too
ready to do that. 1t is not often l have
a pleasant truth to tell. l wont he de.
priyed of the enjoyment"
Can the truth ever be pleasant. sir??'
Involuntarily Loder echoed Chilcote.
Fraide looked up. He was half 4
head shorter than his companion
though his dignity concealed the fact
"Chilcote.' he said seriously. give uI
cynicism! 1t is the trademark of fail.
ure. and I do not like it in my
friends
Loder said nothing. The quiet in.
sight of the reproof. its mitigating
kindness. touched him sharply. In
that moment he saw the rails down
which he had sent his little car of ex