Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-01-08

his stick sharply. There. there: l I'M
derstand. You think I'll tell? Gad-a-
mercy, madam. I am gentleman. And
my boy Sam doesn't interest you? Yes,
been a trifie harsh? l shall say nothing
to Lavendar or anybody else"
She put her hands over her face and he
heard a broken sound. Instantly he red
dened to his ears.
Come! Come, You haven't thought
me harsh, have you? Why. you poor
bird! 1t was only on my boys account.
You and l understand each other-I am
man of the world. But with Sam it 5
different: now, isn't it? You see that?
He's in love with you. the young fool!
A great nuisance to you. of course. And
thought you might-but I ask your
pardon. see that you wouldn't think of
such a thing. My dear young lady,
hand out and patted her shoulder. Poor
bird!' he said. But she shivered away
from his touch. and after a hesitating
moment he went shutting down the path
by himself.
On the way home he SMILED audibly.
and when he reached the entrance to his
own place he stopped. tucked his stick
under his arm and blew his nose with
sonorous sound. AS he stuffed his hand
kerchief back into his pocket, he saw
his grandson lounging against the gate,
evidently waiting for him. The
dilapidation of the Wright place was espe-
cially obvious here at the entrance. The
white paint on the two square wooden
columns of the gateway had peeled and
faxed. and the columns themselves had
rotted at the base into broken fangs. and
hung loosely upon their inner posts; one
of them sagged sidewise from the weight
Of the open gate. which had long agc
settled down into the murdocks and wild
parsley that bordered the weedy drive
way. What with the canaries and the
cooking and the slovenly homework. poor
old Simmons had no time for such mat
tiers as repairing or wedding.
Sam. leaning on the gate, watched his
grandfather's toiling progress up the hill.
His face was dull. and when he spoke all
the youth seemed to have dropped out of
his voice.
Grandfather. he said. when Mr..
Wright was within speaking distance. Il
want to go away from Old Chester. Will
you give me some money. sir?''
Benjamin Wright. his feet wide apart.
and both hands gripping the top of his
stick, came to a painting standstill and
CAPPED at him: He did not quite take the
boys words in; then, as he grasped the
idea that Sam was agreeing to the sug-
gestion which he had himself made more
than month before, he burst out furi-
ously. why the devil didn't you say so
yesterday? Why did you let me-you
young jackass!"
Sam looked at him in faint surprise.
Then he proceeded to explain himself:
"Of course. father won't give me any
money. And l haven't got any myself
except about twelve dollars. And you
were kind enough, sir, to say that you
would help me to go and see if l could
get publisher for the drama. 1 would
IKE to go tomorrow. if you please"
Co.. said Benjamin Wright. scowlng
and chewing orange skin rapidly; 1.-THE
sooner the better! I'm glad to get rid of
you. But. confound you! why didn't you
tell me so yesterday? Then I needn't
have Well. how much money do you
want? Have you told your-your mother
house and I'll give you check. But
why didn't you make up your mind to this
yesterday" Snarling and swapping. and
then falling into silence. he began to
trudge up the driveway to his old house.
Sam said briefly that he didn't know
he had not as yet told his family of his
purpose. I'm tell mother tonight" he
said. Then he. too, was silent, his young
step falling in with his grandfather's
shutting gait.
When Mr. Wright left her Helena stood
staring after him. sobbihg under her
breath. She was terrified, but almost in
stantly she began to be angry.
That old man, creeping away along the
road, had told her that he would not be-
tray her; but his knowledge was a men,
ace. and his surprise that she should have
David an insult! OF course. her way of
living was considered wrong by people
who cannot understand such situations
old-fas hloned, narrowminded people But
the idea odany harm coming to David by
it was ridiculous! As for Sam Wright,
all that sort of thing was impossible. be-
cause it was repugnant. No married
woman, respectable such women
call themselves, could have found the
boys 1ove-making more repugnant than
she did. And certainly her conduct in
Old Chester was absolutely irreproach-
able-she went to church fairly often;
she gave literally to all the good causes
of the village; she was kind to her serv-
ants and courteous to these stupid Old
Chester people. And yet. simply because
she had been forced by Frederick's
cruelty into temporary unconventional
ity, this dingy. grimy old man despised
her! He looked at me as If 1 were-l
don't know what
Anger swept the color up into her face.
her hands clenched, and she ground her
heel down into the path as If she were
grinding the insolent smile from his cruel
old face. Horrible old man! Dirty,
tremulous: with mumbling jaws chewing
constantly; with untidy white hairs prick
ing out from under his brown wig: with
shaking shriveled hands and backened
nails. this old man had fixed his melan-
choly eyes upon her with an amused leer.
He pretended. if you please. to think
that she was unworthy of his precious
grandson's company-unworthy of David
lille HdHu-CldSp. she WOulQ leave InlS
impudent Old Chester! She would tell
Lloyd so. as soon as he came. She would
not endure the insults of these narrow
minded fools.
"Hideous! Hideous old wretch she
said aloud. furously, between shut teeth.
How dared he look at me like that. as
If 1 were Beast. l hate-I hate-I hate
him." Her anger was so uncomfortable
that for moment she could not breathe.
1t was like whirlwind. wrenchng and
NJ, f,-<Nv fl,4 Sc
into which for so many years her vanity
and selfshness had struck their roots.
But the Lord was not in the wind
Go be Continued Tomorrow