Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-11-23

doors to open and the mourners to issue
forth. The cab. too, had something o.
| the sinister. in that 1t was hauntt d by the
| ghosts OF q fourpenny cigar and a six
penny bottle of scent, which continued a
| lugubrious Irritation: and the windows
ratified Q danse macabre. At last it puilei
up at the door Of Emmy's mansions in
Chelsea.
frightened child. Her pretty mouth was
never strong. but when the corners droop
ed 1t was babyish. She slipped her hand
in hts.
Don't leave me just yet. It's silly. /
krow-but this awful journey has taken
everything out of me. Every bit Of it has
been worse than the last. Edith-tl at 8
my maid-will light fire-you must get
warm before you start-and she'll make
some coffee. Oh, do come. You can keep
the cab
But what will your maid think?" asked
Septimus, who for all his vagueness had
definite traditions as to the prOprieties OF
life.
"What does it matter? What does any
thing in this ghast'y world matter? I'm
frightened. g. ptimus. horr bly, frightened,
daren't go up by myself. Oh! Come!
Her voice broke on the last word. st.
Anthony " ouid ave yielded; also his pi :;
Sep linus handed her out Of the cab. and,
through the already opened front door Of
the mansions up to her fiat. She let her
self in with her latchkey and showed him
into the drawing room. turning on the
electric light as he entered.
TN go and wake Edith" she saiu
Then we can have some breakfast. The
fires laid. Do you mind putting match
to it?''
She disappeared and Septimus knelt
down before the CRATE and lit the paper.
In a second or two the flame caught the
wood. and. the blower being down. it
blazed fiercely. He spread his ice-cold
hands out before 1t. injurious Of the flu
tile little room, whose draperies and "trip
peries and inconsiderable himsiness of
furniture proclaimed its owner, intent
only on the elemental need of warmth.
He was disturbed by the tornado en-
trance OF Emmy.
''She's not here!" she exclaimed, trag-
ically. Her baby face was white and
there were dark shadows under the eyes.
which stared at him with touch Of mad
ness. ''She's not here!"
Perhaps she has gone out for a walk"
Septtmus suggested, as IL London serving
maius were in tie haDit of taxing the air
at o'c.ock on foggy morning.
But Emmy heard him rot. The dismay-
ing sense OF utter loneliness smote her
down. 1t was the last straw. Edith, on
whom she had staked all her hopes OF
physical comfort, was not there Over
sank helplessiy In the chair which Septi-
mus set out for her before the fire, too
exhausted to cry. She began to speak in
q queer, toneless voice:
II don't know what to do. Edith could
have helped me. ! want to get away and
hide. can't stay here. It's the nrst
place Fora will come to. She mustn't
find me. Edith has been through Ii her
self. She would have taken me some
where abroad or in the country where
could have stayed in hiding till 1t was
over. It was all SO sudden-the news OF
his marriage. l was half crazy. couldn't
make plans. ] thought Edith would help
me. Now she has gone, goodness knows
where. Ny God, what shall dor
She went on. looking at him haggardly,
q creature driven beyond the reticence Of
sex. telling her Utmost secret to q man
as II 1t were q commonplace Of trouble.
It did not occur to her distraught mind