Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-11-15
BY ARTHUR w. MARCHMONT.

Manor is rather-well, rather dull wher
Jacks away"
II nave seen you laughing with him.
"Oh. that's different. He's only sixteen
and at sixteen one is so silly sometimes
And you are wise and sedate nine
teen
Yes, / am nineteen; nearly twenty. ii
fact
Seems great age to you, eh?'
Il seem to have lived long time.
She smothered a sigh as she said this.
But you are happy?
"Oh. yeS-at least. / suppose So.
II mean--about our marriage?'
II think | am more frightened than
anything else. It's very babyish. but
can't help being afraid Of tomorrow.
don't mean don't mean you-becauSe
father has wished this. and, of course,
! must do what he wishes always have
And indeed. am glad to do it. L am in
deed with almost childish eagernesS
Don't think I'm not-but I'm afraid
shall be such a failure as-as my lady
Don't be angry that am so foolish.
He moved closer and touched her hand
81 shall never be angry with you. Eva.
he said, earnestly, his surface feelings
touched. II shall give my life TO make
you happy and hear YOU laugh, and bring
the roses to your cheeks. Now let me tel
you some of the things We shall do on the
honeymoon. And with ready tongue he
chartered away. seeking to rouse her in
terest and at the same time prove to hei
father that the news in the letter had not
really upset him.
Eva did her best TO appear interested
but she was poor actress, and between
her dread of the morrow's ordeal and hel
fear of making a blunder which might
anger her father she was distresslnsIy
conscious OF her failure.
She was thus unfeignedly relieved wher
Mr. Petherby interposed with the sugges-
ton that as the next would be firing
day for Eva she had better go to bed.
He went down with Lord Broadstone
You are sure there's nothing you want
to tell me?" he asked
Cant think of anything" was the re
ply. lightly spoken with apparent indif
ference.
THAT letter from Mr.. Dorrison?"
| "Oh, that. That's nothing. What can't
/ be cured, You know. Better luck next
time. Goodnight
But il was in his thoughts during tho
short drive to Broadstone Towers, ano
when he reached home and was alone he
took out the letter and read it with agi
tation. intense and real, in place of the
feigned Indifference.
House of Commons. Monday.
My Dear Bertram:
II have reason to believe your first wife
is still living. | have had some most i'm
portant news from America today. anC
| think it right in your in,erests-which yoJ
know ! have at heart-to send you 8
warning. II is too serious for me to write
| and most unfortunately cannot leave the
| house tonight. But | will be with you
| the first thing in the morning and viii
| tell YOU all Don't marry Miss Petilerb,
| on any account until have seen you anC
| the matter is cleared up.
Your affectonate cousin.
| '.GIIBERT DORRISON"
| Lord Broadstone let the letter fall or
| his lap. and as he sat staring gioomliH
| at nothing his thoughts slipped back to &
| scene in the past which his cousins letter
| had conjured up.
| scantily furnished bedroom in a rouGr
| frame house I'm the outskirts of Helena
| Mont. On the common iron bedstead II
| a corner Of the room lay a woman bat
| Ting for life AT a table. by the ligh
| of a reeking, smelling paraffin lamp. {
man, dressed little better than a tramp
] had just finished the stealthy perusal o.
a letter, the reading interrupted by oc
casional furtive chances at the woman
| AS he put the paper back into his pocke
he glanced around the room and shud
| dered with disgust at the sordid meannes:
! and sQualor OF the life which 1t evidenced