Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-10-21


 deck of the King Edward. but 1t was not thing lightly to be forgotten. She was half angry with herself this mel low afternoon ss find how perslstently Armitage came into her thoughts and how the knife thrust on the steamer deck kept recurring in her mind and quickening her sympathy for a man of whom she knew so little, and she touched her horse impatiently with the crop and rode Into the park at a gait that reused the groom to attention.
 At bend of the road Chauvenet and Franzel. the attache. swung into view. mounted. and as they met Chauvenet turned his horse and rode beside her.
 "Ah, these American airs! This spring! Is 1t not good to be alive, Miss Claiborne?"
 Tt is all of that!" she replied. It seemed to her that the day had not needed Chauvenet's praise. r
 "I had hoped to see you later at the Wallingford tea" he continued.
 "No teas for me on day like this! The thought of being indoors Is tragic"
 She wished that he would leave her, for she had ridden out into the spring sunshine to be alone. He somehow did not appear to advantage in his riding coat-his belongings were too perfect. She had really enjoyed his talk when they had met here and there abroad. but she was in no mood for him now. and she wondered what he had lost by the transfer to America. He ran on airily in French. speaking of the rush of great and small social affairs that marked the end of the sea- son.
 Poor Franzel is indeed triste. He is taking the death of Johann Wilhelm quite hard. But here in America the death of an emperor seems less i'm. portant A king or a peasant. what does 1t matterT"
 Better ask the robin in wonder bud ding chestnut tree. monsieur. This Is not m hour for hard questionsr
 "Ah. you are very cruel! You drive me back to poor, melancholy Franzel, who Is indeed funeral in himself
 That Is very sad. monsieur" and she smiled at him with mischief in her eyes. My heart goes out to any one who is left to mourn-alone."
 He gathered his reins and drew up his horse, lifting lis hat with perfect gesture.
 ''There are sadder blows than losing one's sovereign, mademoisellew and he shook his barred head mournfully and rode back to find his friend.
 She sought now her favorite bridle paths, and her heart was light with the sweetness and peace of the spring as she heard the rush and splash of the creek, saw the flash of wings and felt the mystery of awakened life throbbing about her. The heart of a girl in spring is the home of dreams, and Shirley's heart overfowed with them until her pulse thrilled and sang in quickening cadences.
 The groom marveled at the sudden changes of gait. the gallops that fell abruptly to walk with the alterna- tions of mood in the girls heart. the pauses that marked moment of med itation as she watched some green curving bank or plunge of the mad little creek that sent glory of spray whitely into the sunlight. It grew late. and the shadows of waning afternoon l crept through the park. The crowd had hurried home to escape the chill of the spring dusk. but she fingered on, reluctant to leave, and presently left her horse with the groom that she might walk alone beside the creek in a place that was beautifully wild. About 1