Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-07-20

was old enough to know that what Henry
desired he obtained. Her little face was
pressed closer and closer to the window
as she listened to the swelling music and
saw the guests thronging toward the park.
Carriage after carriage brought its load of
fnery. until the child fancied that the en-
tire county must be gathered below. She
could see through the climbing roses down
into the library, which jutted out at a
sharp angle almost opposite to the nursery
window. But Of Jim or Henry she could
catch no glimpse.
The stars began to creep out and blink
at the tiny figure in the window seat
Gradually the entire house grew quiet. All
even the servants-had joined the revelry
In the park.
The music crashed louder Fiery showers
of illumination could be seen shooting and
flaming into the sky. 1t grew cold
Tighter she drew the .coverlet and held
| closer the small puppy that nestled warm
in her arms and slept. In the adjoining
room Mabel, Lady kerhills little daughter,
lay fast asleep.
Its Jim's last night. I must say good
bye" the child whispered to the fieecy white
bundle in her arms. I must keep awake
and say goodbye
Fainter grew the music, darker the sky,
and heavier the curved eyelds. Slowly,
with a sigh the child slipped to the floor.
and the brown head pillowed itself on the
cushioned window seat. Diana slept.
In the park, the tenantry, eager to meet
their young master, were shouting them
selves hoarse. speech of welcome fol-
lowed the dazzling 'flluminations Over 1t
ALL Lady Elizabeth, with Sir Charles Mar
toribanks, presided.
Diana and her father lived neigh
boring estate, and Sir Charles had come to-
night to rejoice with his old friend on the
return of her SON. Sir Charles man
of slender physique, with a gentle, winning
manner; extremely delicate In health, he
led for the most part secluded liIe' and
since the death Of his wife, at Diana S
l. tyntn fha
Diana's childhood had been almost as
lonely as Jims had been in his aunt's
home. Tonight Sir Charles delighted In
seeing the house Of Wynnegate honored
He scarcely noted the reckless demeanor
and wild spirits of Henry as unusual; only
for Jim and Lady Elizabeth was 1t night
of anxiety. Never for a moment did Henry
escape Jm's watchful eyes; slip after slip
made by Henry was covered by JIM tact
and thoughtfulness, and with simple dig
nifty he carried the night to success. Only
when he stood aside and saw Henry re-
ceive the demonstrations or the county ana
tenantry did the bitterness of his position
force itself upon him. Not once did Henry
remember his promise to the child waiting
for him. Jim remembered; but the look OF
appeal from his aunt, and the suiien de-
fance of Henry, kept him close to his
cousins side.
The final bars Of the last dance were dy-
ing away and the ball was drawing to Its
brilliant end. In the east pale streak or
light was beginning 10 SHOW over tHe
horizon. Sir Charles. half an hour before,
! had gone to his room. Exhausted by the
| long evenings anxiety and late festivities,
Lady kerhill forgot that Jim was to leave
| early in the morning and that she would
not see him again, and had retired to her
| own apartment. In the great hall. tired
and excited groups of guests We're saying
good night.
| Its goodbye for Jim Sir John Apple
gate, Diana's cousin, called as the last
1 carriage drove away.
| A half-whimsical smile played over Jim g
| face. Then some one remembered that he
| was leaving England. AS he turned from
| the door he met the eyes OF his cousin
| fastened on him, all the latent rebellion
| rising to the surface Henry kerhill was
| sober enough to know that Jim had
| watched and guarded him through the en-
| tire night, and had stood between him and
| disgrace. AS he leaned against the tall
| mantel the bitter consciousness that the
young boy had proved himself of fine met
| He dug his hands deep into his pockets,
| then with a lurch he pulled himself to-
| gether Without word he turned crossed
! TO the twisted staircase. and grasping the
| oak rails, slowly assembled From the land
| ing came the slam of heavy door, and
| Jim knew that he was alone.
| So this was the end. The striking of the
| bell in the church tower reminded him
| that ii was now O'Clock, and that he was
| to leave at 9. His luggage had been sent
| on ahead the previous day. He changed
| quickly, without disturbing the tired serv-
! ants, and In half an hour was ready to
! walk to the station AS he came down the
l broad staircase, lined with portraits of the