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

people would mind their own affairs! This
prying into things that are none of their
business is"
Lloyd Pryor stopped, read over what he
had written and ground his teeth. No,
he couldn't send her such a letter. 1t
would call down storm of reproach and
anger and love. And, after all, it wasn't
her fault; this doctor fellow had said that
she did not know of his call. Still, if
she hadn't been friendly with those peo-
pie the man wouldn't have thought of
looking him up! Then he remembered
that he had been the one to be friendly
with the doctor fellow" and that made
him angry again. But his next letter was
more reasonable. and so more deadly.
You will see that if / had not hap
pened to be at home it might have been
a very serious matter. | must ask you to
consider my position, and discourage your
friends in paying any attention to me-.
This, too. he tore up. with smothered
word. 1t wouldn't do; if he wounded her
too much she was capable of taking the
next train! And so he wrote, with non
committal brevity:
Il have to be in Mercer Friday night
and L think l can get down to Old Chester
for few hours between stages Sat
urday. l hope your cook has recovered
David he can get his sling ready, and do.
for heavens sake, fend off visitors." Then
he added postscript: Il want you all to
myself He smiled as he wrote that,
but half shook his head. He did not (such
was his code) enjoy being agreeable for
thought. frowning; "she is so very diff
cult, just now.
He was right about the postscript; she
read the letter with a curl of her lip. Z" a
few hours. " she said, then-"''I want
you all to myself The delicate color
flooded into her face; she crushed the
letter to her lips. her eyes running over
with laughing tears
''Oh, David" she cried, lets go and
tell Maggie-we must, have such a din
ner! He's comins!''
''Who?' said David
why. Mr.. Pryor, dear little boy /
want you to love him. Will you love
him.
I'll seec said David; lis Alice COM
ing?'
dear, no.
well. ! guess she's too old to play
with. David consoled himself; "she S
nineteen
II must speak to Maggie about the din
ner," Helena said, DULY. But when she
talked to the woman interest came back
again; this time he should not complain
of his food! Maggie smiled indulgantly
at her excitement.
My. Mrs. Richie. 1 don't believe no
wife could take as good care of Mr..
Pryor-and you just his sister,
For the rest of that glowing afternoon
Helena was very happy. She almost for
got that uncomfortable scene with Sam
Wright. She talked eagerly of Mr.. Pryor
to David. quite Indifferent to the child S
lack of interest. She had many anxious
thoughts about what she should wear. If
IT was very hot day, how would her
white dimity do? Or the thin sprigged
blue and white? 1t was so pretty
punches of blue flowers on a cross barred
muslin, and made with three fiounces and
bertha. She was wandering about the
garden just before tea, trying to decide
this point. when David came to say that
a gentleman wanted to see her. David
did not know his name-he was the old
tangled gentleman who lived in the bic
house on the hill
OH Helena said: she caught her lin
between her teeth and looked at David
with frightened eyes. The child was in
stantly alert
IN run and tell him to go home'' he
But she shook her head. I've got to
see him-oh, Davidn'
The little boy took hold of her skirt re-
assuringly: 'Ill not let him hurt you
he said. She hardly noticed that he kept
close beside her all the way to the house
lowest step of the front porch. His trem-
bling head was sunk forward on his
breast; he did not lift it at her step, but
peered up from under the brim of his
dusty beaver hat; then seeing who it
was, he rose. pushing himself up by grip
ping al the step behind him and clutch
ing his cane first in one hand, then in
the other. His face, like old ivory CHS
eled into superb lines of melancholy
power. was pallid with fatigue. On his
nnf nit n faI L,
took off his hat with sweeping bow.
Madam. your very obedient!'
Good afternoon" she said. breath
lessly
Benjamin Wright. tottering little
changed his cane from his left to his
right hand and ehewed orange skin
fiercely. Il have called. madam
But she interrupted him. Won't you
come in and sit down, sir? And pray
allow me to get you glass of wine
Come in? No. madam. no. We are
simple rustics here in Old Chester: we
must not presume to intrude upon a lady
of SUCH fashion as you. l fear that some
of us have already presumed too much
he paused for breath, but lifted one
veined old hand to check her protest.
too much l say! Far too much!
come. madam. to apologize, and to tell
YOU" Again he stopped. painting: "to
tell you that | insist that you forbid
further intrusion-at least on the part OF
my grandson"
But she said. the color hot in her
face, 'he does not intrude. l don't know
what you mean. =
"Oh. madam. you are too kind: / am
sure you know what l mean; it is youl
excessive kindness that permits the visits
of a foolish boy-wearying, I am sure
to lady so accustomed to the world.
will ask you to forbid those visits Dc
you hear me?" he cried. shrilly. pounding
the gravel with his cane. "Gad-a-merey,
Do you hear me? You will. forbid his
visitsv'
You are not very polite. MIR. Old Cen
tleman." said David thoughtfully.
David" Helena protested.
Benjamin Wright. looking down at the
little figure planted in front of her
seemed to see him for the first time
''Who is this? Your child?"
"A little boy who is visiting me-" she
said. David. run away"
Benjamin Wright made sneerins
gesture. mo, no: don't dismiss him on
my account. But that a child should
visit you is rather remarkable. / should
think his parents
Hush" she broke in, violently. 60
David go!'
tI,o child p-apt c,,ll-ilv l,aoly 70 III,