Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-07-28

mothers life came hack TO her ami tire
! Interpretation OF the world was too uav.ous
/ 10 be easily gaiusaid. She bad thought
| more than once OF the amha - ,d1r's refer
| ence to the miniature which she had seen
! al the embassy. hut had lacked oprortu
| nifty to ask HIM any questions even &c her
| pride had permitted H. She recalled now
| the strange impression she hUd received
| from his manner ana the stranger fact of
! his possession of SO beautiful painting
| II was true that her mother had di a
i while she was sim young ana that
actresses are in the habit of haN'ag IN -ir
! pictures painted and sold This = h-c;ion
! contfadicted a strange fancy which had b.
gun to possess her and she chung to u as
| the most probable solution. VT thor WIS
! Portucarrero himself the man was AN ia
| fathomable mystery To most people. but as-
| tween them there had always ben some
| strangely intuitive sympathy. Mary lean a
! her chin in her hand and looked INTO the
! live Goals; she was trying To summon up
j the past. to piece together dim memories,
, vague impressions.
She started violently as the port'er,s uers
! drawn aside and the butler uSherrd in tho
| object of her thoughts. Portucarrero came
across the room. his face showing white In
! the soft candle-light. and his expression
even more cynical than usual. As he APP
| preached Mary observed with surprise that
| he looked Ike very old man. there
were lines which she had failed to notice
| before. and n certain meager sharpness in
| the contour of the face
| You look like the high prirstess of
| home. he remarked as she rose beside her
tea-table; and the smoke from the tea
kettle Is the incense before your altar"
Mary laughed. IT'S sign that your
tea will be hot this cold day. she replied:
| Il have been alone for hour; 1t Will be
a delight to brew you cup
He took the armchair opposite and fell
| into an attitude OF comfortable repose.
You make tea very we'll he observed.
but you are not a Russian.
No" said Mary as she opened the tea
| caddy land | grow more and more proud
| of being an American every day"
The screech OF the eagle" said Portu-
] carrero teasingly: I'VE hear 1t everywhere
but you were not born here
| Mary looked across at him ia quick sur
| prise. the slender hand on the caddy trem.
| bled. who told you that?" she asked
He returned her look moment in ST.
| lence they were measuring each other.
Il think you did" he replied when you
| told me whose daughter you were"
| Mary put down the cup she had taken up
| and leaned toward him. viii you tell me
whose daughter I amp" she asked softly.
| Portucarrero started; the movement was
| slight. scarcely perceptible yet 1t brought
a swift change into his guarded eyes You
told me your mother was Denise Girard.
Mary nodded; her eyes did not leave his
face. But my father" she said.
| The ambassador was silent. His heavy
| lids were lowered: she could make nothing
| of the mask which he could assume SO
| easily 1t was still, only the clock licked
| on the mantel without, was the stiffness
| Of a great snowfall: one shade was not
| drawn and Mary could see, from where she
| sat, the swirl Of the snow against the pane.
| 1t was just between daylight and dark out
| there: within. 1t cheerful and warm
and softly illumined.
| "Will you give me my cup of tear asked
| the ambassador smoothly.
Portucarrero took the cup from her hand
| with his suavest manner. Il am going to
| send your aunt some of my Russian tea"
| he observed: I'VE on the continent think tho
| overland tea the finest-and the Russians
| know what good tea Is.
Mary leaned forward again clasping her
| hands on the edge of the table and speak,
| ing in French that chance eavesdropper
might not be SO easily informed M fAm-
| tell me much--will you tell me! Or is RuS-
sian tea our only TOPPER
He smiled. THAT would be too limited.
! mademoiselle" he replied; then he added,
| after regarding her thoughtfully for mo-
ment. at is an old axiom-but sometimes
| 1T is folly to be wise.
| us 1t folly in my case? she asked, her
! voice softly pathetic.
| He stirred little In his chair and shifted
his cup from one hand to the other: there
was line between his brows which deep.
ened she spoke. ut seems so to me-,
| he said after moment.
Mary regarded him earnestly, her face
pale in the fiame-light. M rAmbassa-
| deur." she said softly, Il am speaking to
| you without reserve. l am alone In the
world, have always been alone My only
| recollections OF my mother are of a beau
| tiful creature who seemed to live apart
from me in atmosphere of lights and
| flowers and music and applause, marvellous
| to my childish mind. l recall going to the
| theater to see her and thought 1t was
| fairyland and she the queen fairy wor-
| SHIPPED her beauty. / loved her gayety and
her gentleness. Then the change came. We
were poor. All. NJ. rAmbassadeur, poverty
| narrows So 1t Is cold, SO gray, so pinch
| ing: it wrings the happiness out of your
heart! Then came. after that, her last i'll
| ness 1t was a nightmare! Even now
cannot look at the tower of Notre Dame
without seeing her pinched face and hear
| ing her cough: were up among the
| chimney pots, in miserable little pension,
and 1 saw oftenest those spires, while l
| heard her fretting for the Riviera After
| that she died" Mary paused and looked
| into the fire. while the flames leaped up
J and glanced on her vivid head Monsieur.
! l heard then. and have heard since, the
| constant question, was she married 20 my
| father? l believe she was. know IL! BUT
| 1 would give all. almost my hope OF heaven
| to clear her name Of that doubt, ana she
never told me my fathers name!
| looking at her with no trace of emotion In
| his expression. He had finished his tea
| quietly while she spoke and now set down
| the cup After awhile he broke the silence.
eft was perhaps well advised. mademoi-
! selle." he remarked: 'if he Is unwilling to
acknowledge you. any claim upon your
part would meet with resistance and do
NAL. His position could not fail 10 Dc
| stronger than yours.
do you think 1 wish to make any
| claim" the girl flashed at him: II should
scorn it. But my mothers name. that 10
! dear to me-"
"Dearer apparently than it was to her,"
| he said
! You do not believe that-ah, can you
! tell me?" She stretched out her hands
| with an Involuntary gesture of appeal.
1 which was pathetically futile In view OF
| the immoblity of the figure opposite. tho
| changelessness Of his face. which might
| we'll have been frozen into stol!dity: with
| the darkening room behind 1t and the play
| of the fire and candle-light upon 1t. there
| was strange effect. like white marble
image with living eyes.
Il fancy you are cruel! she exclaimed
after a moment. Il have always imagined
! 1t from your mouth and your eyes but l
cannot fancy any man cruel as to per-
| NIT his wifes memory to remain under
| stigma.
MY dear child retorted the am
bassador lis II so cruel as to misuse her IN
| life (which Is common.
F, MY father seems to have done both,
| said Mary bitterly.
| There I think you are mistaken" re-
| Joined Portucarrero: they quarreled ana
I