Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1909-01-21

so, but the tone of the letter was sad.
and / felt a great melancholy. The world
can never be so hard to men as IL often
is to women. l was sitting alone before
the great fire when the letter came. L
tore il into bits which / tossed one by one
into the Goals where they disappeared like
my own hopes. / had achieved a great
ambition, but now all things felt hollow
and empty was alone truly alone:
friends l had. relatives l had. and the
applause of the multitude. but not the wo-
man. the one woman who could make my
life complete. II has been said with Wis
dom that it Is not good for man 10 live
alone. and in this moment OF desolation l
felt all its truth.
l rose. put on my overcoat and went
forth into the snow walking furiousiy
over the slopes and through the valleys.
did not return until twilight was coming
down on the mount aims. and then. my
mood of despair having passed, was able
to turn cheerful face to my comrades.
] was home for the Christmas holidays.
and when the time came / was duly inau-
gurated at Frankfort amid a great con-
course, and with much cheering and en-
thusiasm. Uncle Paul and Aunt Jane
came for the ceremonies. but they stayed
only day, sleeping once In the governors
mansion.
No." they said with one voice. when
urged them to remain with me. This Is
for you, Harry, not for us. You are
needed here. and we are needed back yon-
der"
l went with them to the train. and when
It's last smoke was seen among the nils
1 felt more alone than ever. But Seth L
kept with me as valet and sort OF friend.
I must have some one who stood in a per-
sonaI relation to me. The governors man
sion was now the home of bachelor. but
the Whartons helped me in social way.
and the old Judge, who was still source
of strength to me with suggestion and ad-
vice. became my most intimate friend in
Frankfort.
1 was bound by few promises and / be-
gan my administration in accordance with
the resolution taken in the mountains and
before. 1 determined that / would not be
betrayed into anger and quarrels and
kept my own counsel. | appointed whom
sOever / pleased to the appointive offices,
and / let the heather rage. 1 had per-
ceived long since that honesty was the
best policy. Hence / take no credit to my
self when I say that the state began to
call me good governor.
Spring gave her first faint signs and
Mrs. Guthrie and Alicia arrived on visit
to the Whartons. I had remembered
Harrison's statement that she might come,
but l had scarcely believed it until Judge
Wharton's announcement that she was
due in two days. When the day came l
heard that they had come with 1t. but
naturally stayed away from the Wharton
home until such time as l could call with
out causing remark. 1 did not wish to
involve Alicia in any gossip. If ii was
well for me to be cautious before should
be doubly so now, as governor, how
ever little his own personal merit may be.
is watched, and whatever he does Is re-
ported to all his world.
Thus it came about that first met her
elsewhere, and by chance. I had kept up
my habit of solitary walks on the hills.
both for the sake of exercise and for tho
mental concentration that 1t permitted.
Nor was 1 often disturbed when ] chose
to ramble thus alone; Frankfort, with
century of tradition, considers 1t her duty
always to let the governor go on his way
unmoleSted. So on an afternoon when the
spring was well advanced left the exec
utive office and turned toward the hills.
But I did not pursue any direct course.
passing, as strolled along, by the walls
of the penitentiary. which often had for
me a somber attraction. almost like that
of an old and unforgotten, if not pleas
ant home.
The slopes were deep in green and the
road was deserted. A hundred yards far
Their on it turned, and little distance
ahead of me I saw woman walking. 1
should have known the figure anywhere.
Her slightest movement or trick of ges-
ture was photographed on my mind, and
my heart beat at boyish speed. It had
been many months since I had seen
Alicia; she was still separated from me by
wall that could not be climbed. but her
place in my heart was as large as ever
and would never be diminished.
l increased my speed. and L think she
she turned and the red suddenly flushed
her white still face, then. retreating. left
it as white and calm as ever. She was I'm
better command of herself than I-per-
haps she had less to crush down-and,
stopping, she held out her hand.
Il have been expecting that you would
come to see u.s. she said. but I forgot
your new dignity"
1T was not that" I replied eagerly: II
would have come before you were here
an hour but-but-
I stopped. embarrassed. and she smiled
a little sadly.
-"I know" she said. frankly you
dreaded the gossip-why should 1 not
speak of it?-and you were afraid that
you might involve my name. Do you
know, Harry, i have got we'll beyond that
point ! care very little what they may
say about me now
But care, and care greatly I said.
81 could not bear it for you to be at
tackled and that should be the cause OF
it,"
had held her hand so long that the red
came back to her cheeks and then, see
ing it. L dropped the hand in a way that
was almost brusque. But in the manner
of woman she became quite composed and
said:
You are going for your walk. I have
heard how you tread the hills. I am
walking for pleasure. We will go to-
gether.'
(To be continued tomorrow