Evening star., 1909-06-13

again in the talk. still harping his
hero.
4 never met Conover till this morning"
said he. Il wish now I'd known him bet
ter. It's queer | never met him at Miss
Shevlins. s. She's his ward. you know.
Lefty. to whom he spoke. answered with
tinge of the latent subacid in her gen
tie voice:
II didn't know, but I've noticed things
about Miss Shevlin that made it seem
quite likely"
Miss Shevlin." said the boy hotly. lis
the prettiest. brightest best-bred girl |
ever knew. If you mean she is
Il dare say" answered Lefty with elab
crate carelessness But l never noticed
her especially"
Il don't see" persisted Jack, how you
could have helped it. She's the sort of
girl every one notices. There's something
about her
Why. what Jealous champion she
las. exclaimed Lefty playfuly, her
laughter ringing thin. Il congratulate
her
You needn't" retorted Jack And I'm
afraid you'll never even have a chance to
congratulate me. l.
by the way, Hawarder. interposed
Caine, lazly pouring oil on the churned
waters. according to his wont. Il read
your Scribner's story today. ! can con-
sratulate you on that. at any rate. can't
/? 1t was decidedly good. | wondered a
your knowledge of human nature.
Hawarden's chest swelled. At twenty
two who does not know human nature
as never can 1t be known in later years?
And who does not rejoice at recognition
of that vast knowledge?
I've had some experience with life. in
my time" said Jack. darkly. And /
paint my fellow-man | see him, not
ne ought to he; but he is. If l seem
merciless i'll my character drawing
You do indeed,' began Caine. But
At of very well executed coughing cut
short his righteous praise. Jack. ds-
appointed. sought to lead the talk back 10
the former happy theme.
I'm writing story now he said.
| that is bigger III every way than any
thing I've done before. But | can't decide
yet. even in my own mind, whether it is
very good or very bad. II is one or the
other, | know that
IF it's enough of either" replied caine
1T is certain TO make popular hit
I've made De-Miss Shevlin my her
oine." pursued IIawarden. scornfuily dis
regarding Gaines untimely tiippancy.
But it's hard TO put a girl like her
paper the way one sees her in ones mind.
wrote a poem about her once. Harpers
Magazine accepted il.
He paused. Then ridden by the demon
of truth, added with reluctance They
published ii in fine print over toward the
end. But" more buoyanty, Il saw it
copied afterward in no less than two
papers"
why don't you pat Mr.. Conover into
story. too?' suggested Lefty unwilling
not TO seem quite at home in profound
a literary discussion. 'Wouldn't he make
good character? He's So
,, I'm afraid not" decided the boy.
judicially weighing his verdict. Hes
more Of man than any one else in all
my experience. But he wouldn't quite fit
into story. I'm afraid. You see he lacks
romance. for one thing. one could hardly
fancy Caleb Conover in love. And then
unless you count this evenings AFFAIR."
doubt If he was ever in an adventure OF
~.
a literary viewpoint doesn't lend itself
to action analysis In making the
study Of human nature my hobby, !
have
Il see" broke in Lefty. almost sharply.
You are quite right. He would be i'm
possible in a story-and every where else
Il hardly think So demurred Caine
Not impossible. Improbable. at worst l
am afraid a great many people In Granite
will find that out before he is through"
They had reached the Standish home.
Ha warden bade them goodnight at the
door declining Letty's perfunctory In
vitation TO come in. The evening was
still young But the lack of cordialitw
in Letty's voice grated on his armor
of youth. He reflected somewhat be-
latedly that she and Caine were engaged
and that it was possible they might find
themes even more allurns than litera-
ture to talk over together. So, unwilling,
he left them.
Caine and Lefty strolled slowly up the
walk The night was cool for June. So,
ignoring the lounging chairs on the We
randa, they passed into the house.
This is one of the last evenings we
can sit indoors commented Lefty. It's
hard to realize that summer is so near.
/ suppose this week will wind up the
season. Everywhere else except in old
fashioned Granite it must have ended
weeks ago"
Yes We're old-fa shioned here in
Granite" said Caine, seating himself on
the arm of the chair into which she
had thrown herself. II think somebody
once left an 1850 calendar in this town.
and we've all been living by 1t ever
since We're like the scaly finny Oldest
Inhabitants in the poem who drea med
away their lives in the coral grove. while
a seven stanza storm rnared across the
ocean overhead When the storm of
progress cuts little below the surface