The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1909-12-16
CONTINUED from last week.

What time does the performance
end?' he asked.
"At 1880. but it takes about twenty
minutes to scrape off the makeup"
Merrihew put his cue in the rack.
He made off for the coat room.
Hillard laughed and went up to the
writing room to fulfill a part Of his
destiny. He took the letter out and
read it again. He replaced the letter
In its blue covering, and then for the
FIRST time his eye met the superscrip-
ton. Like a man entranced he sat
there staring. The steward had
brought the letter to him. and in his
preston upon his mind. He had seen
nothing peculiar nor strange. And
here it was. not his initials, but his
name in full.
She knew who he was!
In a fashionable quarter of the city
there stood a brownstone house, With
grOtesque t~urrets, winding steps and
glaring polished red tiles. Their,
was a touch Of the gothic. of The
renaissance. Of the old English man
of blind mans buff of a house. a
very rich man lived here. but for ten
months in the year he and his family
1uttered about the social centers OF the
world. And. with a house like this on
his hands. one could scarce blame him.
Twice a week during this absence a
caretaker came in, fourished a feather
duster and went away again. Society
reporters always referred to this house
as 1.-The palatial residence"
This morning a woman stood in the
alcOve window and looked down into
the glistening street. The venetian
red Of her hair trapped the reflected
sunlight from the opposite windows,
and two little points Of silver danced
IN her blue eyes. All. but her eyes
were blue-blue as spring water in the
morning. blue as the summer sky seen
through a cleft In the mountains. blue
a lapis laZuli. with the same dbers OF
gold. And every feature and contour
vi tbN law 10 oIliLC Win thC ma
velOus hair and the wonderful eyes: n
beautiful face, warm. dreamy. engag-
ing. mobile. 1t was not the face of a
worldly woman; neither was it the
face Of a girl. 1t was too emotional
for the second. and there was not
enough control for the first.
But the prophecy Of laughter did not
come to pass. The little wrinkles faded,
the mouth grew sad. and the silver
points no longer danced In her eyes.
The pain in her heart was always
shadowing. She had seen her fairest
dream beaten and crumpled upon the
reef of diSillusiOn.
Yet again the smile renewed itself.
She was a creature Of varying moods.
She twisted and UNFINISHED the news
paper. Should she? Ought she? Had
she not always regretted these Singh
lar impulses? And yet what harm to
read this letter and return 1t to the
sender? She was so lonely here. 1t
was like being among a strange people,
SO long ago was it that her foot had
touched this soil. Was 1t possible that
she was tw%enty-fve? Was there not
some miscount. and vas it not fifteen
instead? Would not this war OF wis
dom and folly be decided ere long?
She opened the paper and smoothed
out the folds. Mime. Angot-There
is a letter for you in the mail depart
ment of this office" 1t was so droll.
1t was unlike anything she had ever
heard ola personal inquiry column
where Cupids and Psyches billed and
cooed. The merest chance had thrown
the original inquiry under her notice.
Her answer was an impulse to which
she had given no second thought till
too late. She ought to have ignored
It. But she was lonely; the people she
knew were out Of town. and the jest
might amuse her.
This man was In all probability a
gentleman. since he was a member OF
a gentlemen'S club. But second thought
convinced her that this proved nothing
Men are often "ailrd gentlemen out Of
cOinrlime" :" heir ancestors. Still