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

ly answered to it's Impulse, listening to the
bells challenging one another from afar,
but she could not sleep. Tirelessly her
acquaintance with Glynn, and of the vir-
tual break with her father since the ter
rible substitution of the woman she sus-
pected into her old place at home. To the
last she had kept a brave front, and no
one should ever know what this past year
had cost her. She was leaving America
without temptation to return. The secret
glimmering hope that had kept alight with
in her. that some day John Glynn and
she might come together again, was now
finally extinguished. 1t was as If a new era
of life was opening, and the question was,
how best should she shape it?
For the twentieth time Miss Carstairs
had come around to the knottiest problem
of all those that kept her wakeful in her
giant cradle of the sea. She was wonder
ing how duty and dignity might combine to
inspire her action toward her successor In
Glynn's affections. Her chief apprehension
regarding Pamela Winstanley, was that
John Glynn should have made her ever so
little aware of that prior bond. A cold
terror had possessed her at thought of the
exuberant creature sharing or even sus-
pecting her sacred secret. But in the girls
helter-skelter attempts at speech with
every one at table she had given no hint
that she had previously heard of Miss Car
stairs. Helen could only hope that Glynn's
name would never come up between them.
And at this point soft, swabbing sound
and the tread of muffied feet upon the deck
beneath her window gave notice that the
sailors were at their early morning tasks.
The weird, self-pitying note, of the parrot
in cabin hard by seemed to grow fainter
and more dreamlike. Turning wearil.- upon
her pillows she let sleep take her into its
merciful embrace
Certainly. Mariol you have found your
American types ready to hand upon this
voyage" Lord Clandonald was saying as
the two men walked up and down with
their cigars upon the deck decried by Miss
Carstairs' chaperon. The most obvious one
is, of course, the astonishing young person
who aroused us from the spiritual lethargy
of a first meal at sea, when one Is always
on guard not to be too accessible"
She is like one of those eastern shops,
where everything is in the window" Mariol
answered. But adorably fresh and naive
and pretty. No other continent could pro-
duce her than the wide and liberal one we
are just quitting
Might we but keep her to ourselves!"
said Clandonald mockingly But I fore
see that she will be the wonder and the joy
of the entire ships company our run
over. And the mild old boy who retires into
the background to give his Wonder every
chance. 1 rather like the old boy, think"
my own taste would be for the young
i lady who is protected by Buddha reincar-
nate, in the person of the disappearing
chaperon. Her beauty is rarer, more SUBJ
tie, than the others; she is clearly Of the
fine feur of the American aristocracy of
dollars. / suspect a colonial ancestor some
did not disdain us too much to let fall
hint or two concerning the custom of splen-
dor in her charges life. When they find
you out, Clandonald. I'll wager the sun
will promptly shine between the clouds for
YOU"
1.-THE old woman Is in the apologize
stage for America, and that's enough to
give me strong disgust for her. Let
ready to meet Americans hands across
the sea- But the ones that affect to de-
cry their nationality, to convince us that
they are Of a small. segregated class that
abhorrent to me. Clearly, Buddha's pro-
tegee belongs to that class. and will not
tarry to let us become aware of it."
Grant that my MY Mdlie; Hel enc
tiful and finely bred. and I will abandon
you the rest of her sisterhood. She is
full Of an exquisite intellectually, but it
would not prevent her loving II her heart
were awakened-and. If am not mis-
taken. II has already been awakened.
Imagine young girl, chez nous. with that
expression in her eyes. and yet that deli
cate restraint of manner. I should like
to know the fair Helene's history
THAT you might dissect her with ad-
mirable grace in feuilleton that tout
Paris would read and applaud-and-forget
her the next hour, in a new enthusiasm
Better to possess all the enthusiasms
than none old chap 1 am really in de-
spair over your failure to be aroused by
the infinite variety of the diversions Of
fered to You in this journey of ours that,
alas! must end too soon.'
There Is one pleasure that has never
palled me, and that Is the society Of
my travelling companion. You are the ideal
| one in many respects, Mariol but If I
| could point out one virtue more than an
other that distinguishes you in that charac-
ter. 1t is the letting a man enjoy all his
WILL unchecked and unbridled. have some
times basely suspected you of sacrificing
me In order to make copy of my infirmities.
But at any rate. have enjoyed blessed
liberty, and, whatever the result, l have
profited by the semblance of a perfect
| tact and consideration"
"A roundabout way of warning me not
to intrude my advice upon you now. But
| seriously, ClandOnald. and at any risk, I
must tell you that you need rousing. That
past of yours, unsavory as it was through
no fault Of yours, has been long enough
decently Inferred for you to forget it.
One can't be sore always. any more than
We can love always. or mourn always.
And you. of all men the one best fitted to
wear the yoke of your staid British virtues,
home, to be a model landlord, q husband
and a paterfamilies. CONNIE IL y en- a peu!
For heavens sake. accept the blessed OPP
portunity of your present freedom. and
make up for that wretched first mistake.
You aren't happy, you have no ambition.
no purpose, no zest in living. Get your
l sell d WIFE,
This from Mariol, the scoffer, the cell
| bate! My dear fellow. forgive you your
trespass upon forbidden ground. because
know you are sincere. But you forget one
small important fact. The person who
bore my name, and her various works Of
| evil have so depleted my finances that,
had I the courage. I haven't the where
\ withal to hawk my wares in the marriage
mart. I wonder II you know what 1t costs
| to keep a Lady Clandonald in the enjoy
ment Of the domestic atmosphere Of which
you speak I know to my cost. Unless
| she were a beautiful savage, content to
retire with me to one of those isles of the
South Sea poor Louis Stevenson idealized
| couldn't even give her a season in town, or
trip to Paris or Homburg, much less
| races, and all the bridge a woman needs.
| and SO thered be the devil to pay. you
see. If she would set up bonnet shop, or
| place for horribly dear frocks. and keep
me on the proceeds! but otherwise, I'm
as poor as a rat. Mariol, and haven't your
| resources. or royalties remember
| "a small matter. my dear lad. with the
| ever-continuing flood Of American dollars
pouring from west to east through the
facile clasp of the fair beings by whom we
| are presently surrounded. And you would
not run great risks. There Is this to be said