Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-11-27

world of his own, of which she knew so little.
She had an impulse to follow him, an eager
ness to take some part in his serious projects,
to which she remembered jealousy he had
always given the best that was in him.
Memory brought her vision of the cavern
GUS building with its pail of smoke and SOFT,
the dark figures in the gloom, and the skele
ton mass of the huge bulk on which they
were working. They had signihed some
estv in labor; but now she too was part of
his life, and she hungered for knowledge that
when he returned she might give him SYM
pathy and understanding.
She turned away from the window with
sigh which ended in a smile. The day would
not be long. Nineteen hours only, and he
would be here, and perhaps tomorrow he
would stay all day again. She rang for her
maid, bathed, and dressed. 1t had always
been her custom to breakfast in bed; but to-
day marked the beginning of new order OF
things. She would take breakfast every
morning with him. He would wish it so.
the mal,-a letter from Nina De Witt, one
from Rene De Land, and one from Lydia
Van Solver She sorted them out of the pile
of bills and circulars. few days ago she
would have opened and read them with
avidity, for they we're sure to contain the
latest word from Vanity Fair; but she
fingered them carelessly, all but De Lands,
and put them aside She tore open Rene's
letter and glanced over the first page,
curious kind of smile on her lips. But she
did not read further. and thrust the letter
back into its envelop and put it with the un-
opened ones Her own world, it seemed, had
suddenly grown larger--or sunderland
there was no place in it just now for these
messages.
She had hoped to find word from Brooke
yes, there it was She tore the envelop
eagerly. 1t was only line; but the color
came in her cheeks and when she had read
it she thrust it happily into the bosom of her
shirtwaiSt.
CHE was about to turn toward the break
~ fast room, when her eye fell on the gold
handle of woman's riding crop behind the
Japanese bronze. She picked it up and
looked at it. 1t was Abby Kempton's, of
course. She remembered it perfectly. Abby
had probably forgotten it when she had left
the Grange in June. 1t was curious, though,
that she had never had it sent on to Rhine
beck Natalie put the stick down and went
in to the table; but during her breakfast the
thought of the riding crop still fingered un-
pleasantly She drank her coffee and read
her letters, and when she had finished she
sat a long while looking up at the English
portrait opposite her. The frown on her
face deepened into hard little knot; for she
now remembered distinctly that Abby had
sent her maid down to the hall to bring her
crop when the trunks were being packed.
With quick resolution Natalie put her
foot on the bell beneath the table, and when
Bradley appeared she questioned him care
lessly.
"Mrs Kempton left her riding crop in the
hallway, Bradley. Has she never sent for
it?"
mo, Mrs. Garriott."
'Has it been here long?"
"a few days, ma am. She left it in the
breakfast room. l put it in the hallway"
when was this?"
Bradley judicially stroked his chin. II
think it was-yes, Mrs. Garriott, the morn
ing of the day you came home"
''She rode over here to call?"
~ don't know ma am. She and Mr..
Garriott had ridden together that morning
they breakfasted here. Do you wish it sent
to her, Mrs. Garriott?"
"Where is she visiting?"
"At Mrs. Schuyler's, l think, ma am
"Never mind. I'll send it, That will do,
Bradley"