The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1908-09-18
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n Chapter H,|
"TuIs Is AMERICA, Mr.. ARMITAGE."

~ N anu SOlQ DaQueTS on OH
~ Virginia battlefelds
alTrTfTN crossed the Potomac and
NO occupied Washington.
~ Shirley Claiborne
called for her horse and rode forth to
greet the conqueror. The afternoon
was keen and sunny, and she had turn
ed impatiently from a tea to which
she was committed to seek the open.
The call Of the outdoor gods sang In
her blood. Daffodils and crocuses lift
ed yellow flames and ruddy torches
from every dooryard. She had pinned
a spray of arbutus to the lapel of her
tan riding coat. 1t spoke to her of
the blue horizons of the Virginia hills.
The young buds in the naples lowered
like q mist ia the treetops. Towering
over all, the incompatible gray obelisk
climbed to the blue arch and brought
1t nearer earth. Washington, the CEN
ter of mans hope, is also in spring the
capital Of the land Of hearts desire.
With groom trailing after her, Shir.
ley rode toward Rock creek-that rip
ping, murmuring, singing trife of We
ter that laughs day and night at the
margin of the beautiful city, as though
politics and craftsmanship were the
hugest joke in the world. The flag on
the Hungarian embassy hung
at half mast and symbols of mourning
fluttercd from the entire front of the
house. Shirley lifted her eyes gravely
n ch tNocSn6 fhnI1u htC flow Of
once to the scene at the house Of the
secretary Of state a week before, when
Baron Won Marhof had learned Of the
death of his sovereign, and by associa-
ton she thought, too, of Arniitage and
of his look and voice as he said:
Long live the emperor and king!
God save Austrian
Emperprs and kings! They were as
impossible today as snowstorm. The
grave ambassadors as they appeared at
great Washington functions, wearing
their decorations, always struck her as
being particularly distinguished. 1t
just now occurred to her that they
were all linked to the crown and scep-
ter, but she dismissed the whole mat
ter and bowed to two dark ladies in
passing victoria with the quick little
nod and bright smile that were the
same for these titled members of the
Spanish ambassadors household as for
the young daughters of western sem
ator, who Economically waved their
hands to her from doorstep.
Armitage came. again to her mind.
He had called at the Claiborne house
twice since the secretary's ball, and she
had been surprised to find how fully
she accepted him as an American now
that he was on her own soil. He de-
rived, too, certain stability from the
fact that the Sandersons knew him;
he was, indeed, an entirely different
person since the Montana senator def
nitely connected him with an Amer
lean landscape. She had kept her own
counsel touching the scene on the dark
deck of the King Edward, but it was
not thing lightly to be forgotten. She
was half angry with herself this mel
low afternoon to find how persistently
Armitage came into her thoughts and
deck kept recurring in her mind and
quickening her sympathy for man
Of whom she knew so little, and she
touched her horse impatiently with the
crop and rode into the park at 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?"
at is all of that!" she replied. 1t
seemed to her that the day had not
needed Chauvenet's praise.
81 had hoped to see you later at the
Wallingford tea." he continued.
mo teas for me on a 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 airly 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 yonder bud
ding chestnut tree. monsieur. This is
not an hour for hard questionsw
"Ah, you are very !cruell You drive
me back to poor, melancholy Franzel.
who is indeed a 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