The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1910-09-29
CHAPTER VII

faded and surfeited ready to cry
Vanity of vanities, all is vanity
Wilfrid Stennis returned to his native
land after two years of Kaleidoscope
experiences in the chief capitals of
the Old World. He had plunged into
the vortex of life" only to be flung
out of the worry and whirl as a
spent swimmer is spewed out on the
sand by some mad-rushing breaker
Into those two years he greedily
crowded together enough vicissitudes
to last another and better-seasoned
mind and body decade at least Per-
haps his almost total lack of previous
social training and preparation led the
sooner to inevitable safety: it was
like starveling gorging himself on
recourse dinner of highly spiced
and seasoned viands.
Certain it is that his one over
mastering desire at last took the form
of an acute nostalgia-a longing to-
get away from glittering generalities
and sybaritic luxury and settle down
somewhere to a life of plain and pol
iShed ease.
So he left the kestrel to follow at
leisure-the original yachting party
was disbanded long since-and came
home by the Oregon on one of the
last trips of that doomed greyhound
of the ocean.
In appearance Stennis was not
nlnrh ahonopj for lit 1n
fullness of face and figure, rather
tired look about the eyes, and-what
was more noticeable-just a suspicion
of grayness in the hair around the
temples. And this at 30! In manner
he had certainly improved; you would
trained and wellgroomed man of the,
world
An intense and overweening craving
for simpler manners and homeier
fare led his steps straight from the.
pier to the little house in Macdougal
street, around which were clustered
by far the pleasantest memories he
had ever known.
Eunice was at home, and herself
opened the door, so no retreat, no
denial, was possible.
"Why,-Mr. Stennis," she cried in
genuinely astonished accents. In the
total surprise of the moment it was
all she could find to say.
AS he stepped across the threshold
his gaze sought hers, but in the act
of shaking hands-apparently mere
ly perfunctory ceremony on the girls
partner eyes were yelled, and the
sole token of emotion she betrayed
was little tell-tale red signalling in
her usually olive-pale cheeks.
Have you no word of welcome for
me. Eunice?' said Wilfrid reproach-
fully
Surely" was the answer. We
lam glad to see you back safe and
sound and looking so we'll When
did you arrive?"
Scarcely an hour ago. came
straight here
During the voyage across Wilfrid
had in divers ways pictured to him
self this meeting. There was to be
a sort of killing of the fatted calf,
although in no sense did he regard
himself as enacting the role of the
prodigal-he had been made too much
of while abroad for that. And though
he knew in his heart of hearts that he
had probably forfeited all right there
to, in fancy he had dwelt with an in
ward glow over the glad greeting
which Eunice was to extend; he had
even pictured to himself In hazy
way her flinging herself into his arms
and with tear-wet cheeks taking him
to herself again. But this common
place, everyday "Howde -do, Mr..
Stennis?" and the total absence Of
emotion. grave or gay, cool or ardent,
was like passing at one step from the
hot sunshine of the plains OF LON.
hardy to the ice-crowned sleeps Of the
Alpine SUBMITS beyond.
CTO BE CONTINUED
A little sunshiny practice Is worth
lot of mOonshiny poetry