Evening star., 1907-07-14

among the chimney pots of Paris. l can
see the sweep OF their wings now when |
close my eyes. l was nearer heaven then
than have ever beeh since
After all she was totally new. he re-
fiected, observing a certain aloofness of
mood which was really one secret of her
herself from her surroundings and from
other people and to stand out in sharply
defined individuality full of native indie
pendence.
Your birth accounts for the French
which l have heard Madame Syrene pro-
nounce faultless and purely Partisan" he
remarked: 1T is the sweep of the martins
wings
Then turning to a bookcase he lifted an
unframed picture from the top. 1t was a
black and white etching of a girls head,
and full of suggestions of beauty and
charm. with an indefinable grace in the
pose of the uplifted chin and the slender
curve of the throat.
What artist did this?" he asked with
an amused glance: lit is an excellent like
ness, but there was a magic to touch that
brush with living fire
A faint blush colored her cheek for a
moment, but she too smiled You are
right" she said frankly; he was in love
or thought himself so. Is 1t not rather a
confusing situation at beSt?'
Ryand looked at her with increasing in
terest: he was not yet sure how far she
differed from the other young women who
had obviously angled for his notice. but he
her different in this in other respects.
you presuppose my accomplishment in "a
direction that l have studousy avoided"
he said Il am really d sun-dried old
bachelor"
Now you interest me- Mary answered
banterngly; Il have always wanted to
see man who had never been in love, but
l cannot believe that my ambition has at
last been rewarded
Ryland smiled Il cannot give you a
cOmplptp
health" he said; 1T would require
searching examination into those misty
days when | carried school books for my
neighbors and pulled molasses candy.
Don't spoil the Illusion Mary replied;
you imply long period of oblivion. l
have no doubt that your conscience has
twinges at this moment. For my own part
| believe | was deeply in love at fifteen.
The man was an Italian opera singer and
/ only saw him across the iCOtlIghts clad
in the most bewilderinglX beautiful cos
tunes and wearing d curly wg. They told
me. maliciously, of course. that he looked
like Jew off the stage, and was bald and
wore diamond scarfpin."
1t is evident that your friends, were
discreet" observed Ryllnd: which of the
three facts chilled youv young affection
most thorOughy?"
The badness" replied Mary; zone of
his chief attractions had been his beauti-
full wavy curls; l could never look at him
afterward on the stage without Il secret
the horror of my disillusionment."
'On what a little thing hangs a mans
fate" said Ryland. suspended by hair.
have long since learned that the pol!ti-
clan like the cat needs nine lives, but had
idea that the lover in the same
predicament
II wish | knew more of American poll
ties sail Mary; Il begin to hear them
discussed; my aunt is fond of politics,
think. but it is Greek to me-
aunt that Ryland's face changed and her
quick wit flashed upon the possible meaning
of it. Was Mrs. Whiting political wire
puler? She had heard of such women, but
poudercus.
"Eschew politics. my dear Miss Had
ding" said Ryland at once, and she was
conscious that his mood had stiffened Il
find myself weary of the harness and my
constituents demand impossibilities and ex-
pect me to have my pockets full of ap-
pointments to the civil service"
Like other professions then. public life
has it's disappointmentS she observed
calmly, yet, to my mind. there would be
conversations. l am ambitious and | have
never ha1 the means or the opportunity to
crafty it
a dangerous position" he said, but I
underst tand YOU 1 felt 1t when l left col
lege. l feel it today. But the secret of it is
that nothing ever gratities the sincerely
ambitious: there is always a height to
climb: Olympus is never gained
AS he finished speaking there was rustic
in the adjoining room and the sound Of
voices and they both turned.
who IS this?'' Mary asked quickly: Il
am really still stranger and have to trust
to my instincts. But this seems to be the
lOftest peak in the range, with an eleva-
ton of several thousand feet above the sea
of humanity.
Ryland smiled; his face was somewhat
inclined to an expression of sarcastic
amusement. That is Schellng, the great
trust magnate and multi-millionaire; he is
nearly seven feet weighs three hundred
and ten pounds and is a widower Mrs.
jerome has been dispatched by your aunt
to present him to you. but he is bald
Mary colored; she felt the implication Of
the remark more kecnly than he intended
because she recalled Mrs. Writings advice
Tl3is large, bald-headed red-faced man,
whose clothes were SO obviously new and
conspicuous, was, of of her
''chances." and Ryand kne( it, knew that
She was a mere chattel il. the marriage
market. a pawn in the lands of a sltilliu
matchmaker. She turned from him with a
complete change of manner and met Chris
tine jerome with a cordiality which she
did not feel.
A moment later she was painfully aware
that Schelling was appraising her charms
with an eye to her appropriateness tor the
vacancy caused by the death of Mrs
SChellng eighteen months before.