Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-08-17

ment I was sure I had been chosen the
hero of some little comedy whose denoue-
ment l could not guess.
Very WE'LL l said, once more trying to
be humorous. Does Sherry's lie at the
end of the road or does"
Il think l said that we going home
Julian
We were soon rolling through the vista of
brownstone mansions on upper 9Th avenue
L glanced at the driver and fOotman, Sedate
and wooden in their places, and at the
young women and was conscious of a dis
quieting air of reality Romance was more
at home on the parkway boulevard than
where the city's architectural precision
seemed devised with the special view of
banShng it.
Il am enjoying the present. anyway I
asserted a bit nervously, l fear. Il only
wish | Were Julian Randolph I should
like to congratulate him for a lucky dog.
And shall always count it piece Of good
fortune that l look SO like him as to have
deceived his charming wife and her equally
charming friend
The charming friend arched her eyebrows
at me. And she had lovely brown eyes
under those arched eyebrows, l assure you
Stlil, she was far from beinsSas beautiful
in my opinion at least, as Mrs. Julian Ran
dOlph
| actually began to be jealous of Ran
dolph. What did the despicable fellow
| mean? Had he abandoned this woman. and
conducted himself in such an absurd man
ner that she felt she must abduct him as
| soon as. she him, if she meant to re-
tain him at all? And then my mind from
such questions, leaped back to the con-
clusion that this was but play-acting,
| though the purpose l could not fathom.
i began to ask more questions, to which
| there were more puZZling answers and
| prOtestations mingled with tears and even
more laughter from the nut-brown maid
| Her name, ! learned was Margaret, or at
| least she was called that by Mrs. Ran
dolph, and she was Mrs. Randolp h's sister
When the carriage stopped before one of
| the brownstone houses and the footman
| swung down to open the carriage door,
| was as bewildered as in the beginning.
l could have laughed at the manner in
which these women watched me as l STEP
ped to the pavement, and at the cautious
! way in which the footman dropped in be-
inhd' ike a rear guard, as | moved, under
| 'heir escort toward the wide stone steps.
NOW was my time to retreat; to fly, even.
confess to a moment of indecison. |
| know was hoping that, whatever did come
| OF H. further and better acquaintance
| with Kitty Randolph (was that her real
| nameD would result. And then? Well I
| knew l should make the most of the possi-
| bllltleS of that acquaintance
In the frame of mind of expecting any
| thing, even the most unlikely, l was con-
| Quoted, almost pulled into the house With
the footman swinging in behind, as if to
| prevent my escape, that entrance limited of
! feudal days and robber castles. | don't re-
call that history records any instance of a
: robber princess sallying forth and captur-
F! ing a husband. But it may have happened
| Even history isn't argus-eyed. The reverse
| of that, however, has given history and
| fiction some of their most enchanting
| pages.
| Disappointment awaited me within, for
| the house modern There We're no
| cells or prison doors. No grim jaler stood
| clankng iron keys and rusty manacIes.
| The carved and polished stair railing
! against which my shoulder brushing
| was a work of art. Disguised romance
| could stand no more. but spread bright
hued wings and disappeared, TO fly back to
the park. and perhaps doZe and dream
again by the obelisk. l stood bewildered.
And now" she said. still clinging to me,
| Il wish you would, could, tell me why
why-why you vanished in that mysterious