The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-01-06
CHAPTER XIII.
The Vote.


 Twas deeply disturbed by the ap- pearance at Frankfort of Pauline liar mon in her new phase, a Pauline Har- mon who was beautiful and attracted the eyes of men because she could not help it.. This latest mood of hers might do great damage.
 was not wrong in my surmise, as saw the next morning one of those silent dramas that are often more vivid and striking than others full of words.
 I had gone down to breakfast rath CT early, and Jimmy Warfield and I were sitting at our usual small table in the semi-alcove formed by the win dow and the wall. We were not talk ing at all, each being preoccupied, and when we had been there about five minutes the Grey family entered all together, for the first time in days. Under the head "Grey family I in- clude Mrs. Warren, who in fact came in first, head erect as usual, her gaze turning neither to the right nor to the left. the very personification of cool in science and calculation. After her fol- lowed Alicia, singularly girlish in her sweetness and pallor, but not without the quiet dignity of a woman who had suffered and who yet was strong.
 Behind Alicia a full ten feet walked Grey a man whom life at the capital had not improved at all, his cheeks T0QO0T CHdn ever dllu IOluS Ol 1lCo1 showing under his heavy coarse jaw. l presume that the pfimeval man slew his rival for the love of a woman whenever he could, and I never look ed at Grey without feeling this ancient, far-off instinct of murder rise within me, handed down perhaps from some ancestor a million years ago. It was better hundred times that she should belong to Harrison, who, bad as he was, had heart and soul enough to know Alicia and to value and guard her as precious jewel
 Mrs. Warren did not look in our di- rection, but Alicia saw us and bowed. Grey's heavy eyes roved toward us and then passed on; if we made any inn pact upon his vision he ignored it.
 "Snubbed again. murmured Jimmy Wa~field, "and by the future Governor of Kentucky"
 I could not restrain a smile at his irony As if Jimmy Warfield cared a particle whether man like George Grey ever noticed him or not! Yet Grey must have been particularly sul- len about something, as in his char acter of a rising statesman it was his policy to be polite to everybody if he could.
 I did not wish to act the part of spy in the remotest sense, but I could not sit in the same room with Alicia and not look at her often. I saw that she scarcely noticed her husband, and the sight gave me pleasure. When ever she spoke her words were ad- dressed to her mother, and Gray ate in a heavy and sullen silence.
 It was a fine morning in late winter, so late that spring was elbowing the old boy hard and there was whisper in the air of mellow days to come. When I was not glancing toward Alicia I was Joking out of the window at the houses and the far hills outlined like sarving in the brilliant morning sun light It was the call of youth. to me, and already in fancy I saw the same hills in GeeD green outlined against horizon of silky, summer blue. I came back to reality, and as I turned my eyes I saw Pauline Har- mon in the most becoming of morning dresses entering the room.
 Mrs. Harmon was looking extremely well, fresh, rosy, graceful and entirely in command of herself. When I saw her I glanced instinctively at the Grey table, and I caught at once the vivid impression that was made upon the face of every one of the three. Alicia T presumed that she had now learned what Pauline Harmon was and for what she stood in her life-flushed a deep angry red and then turned abso- lutely white. She gave Pauline liar mon a glance of aversion, contempt and disgust, another just like it to her husband, and then. white still and as cold as ice, she looked only at the table before her.
 Mrs. Warren examined Pauline liar mon with cool, measuring eye. She, too, was angry, but in her anger was a certain calculation. as of one who weighed the chances. George Grey showed fright. His lips and heavy jaw trembled, and he glanced appre- hensively at Mrs. Harmon. his wife and his mother-in-law, each time with the air of whipped dog. I was sorry to see Alicia Grey and Pauline Harmon brought face to face, but had no sympathy for George Grey. He had made the net for himself, and, since he was caught in it, he might wriggle as he could.