The Dolores star., 1910-02-18

the unfortunate reporters who have
been devoured at my gates! To-day
I wanted the pleasure that I have had.
Tomorrow"
She showed her perplexity.
You must have your things, Of
course-telegraph for them: or better,
I'll have them telephoned for. Polly
can make you comfortable for q day
or two. Is 1.-THE article-worth this
bit Of effort?'
No thought was in Lucy Carew's
mind OF worth or effort. She knew
she could never write about this dark
browed. elusive man-her chief in
stinct was that she should leave Cra-
venford, but her will was not with her
instinct.
She consented. therefore, that the
telephone message should be sent, ard
TO remain at the friendly cottage for a
couple of days.
We are none of us so blase with
pleasure or excitement that we can
not bear at least one repetition Of a
good thing! Miss Carew found that
she was quite able to endure the repe-
tition at an early hour of the roses
of yesterday and note from Mr..
Tempest. A second autograph from
a celebrity gave her no thought Of its
value in future Tempestiana, and she
opened the envelope with only fut-
ter Of personal feeling. of surprise and
delight
1t was not a letter. 1t was verse
short and perfect-one she knew and
loved. 1t ran in clear, heavy script
over sheet of thick paper-the en-
velope had lain in the roses
She read it. drank in its fragrance
and beauty with the flowers scent,
put the envelope with the letter under
the pillow and the roses, to outbloom
the still lovely ones OF yesterday. side
by side on the stand in her low-roofed
room, then went down to the waiting
carriage.
Mrs. Henly met her and showed her
into the study, regarded her with be-
nignant approval. and left her alone
Here in the workshop she waited
an hour for the lord OF Craven, pa
tiently at first, then with embarrass-
ment. Her observation of the details
OF the room, an inventory OF the
books, was long over before he came,
full of apologies
Il have been walking your IL miles
and more, otherwise I could not have
seen you to-day. much as / wanted to.
! had bad spirit with me for COM
pany. but l tired him out. left him
afield, and have come back alone"
His voice was joyous and fresh, his
face full Of animation. and as he
frankly took her hand between both
Of his she was prisoner held by an
irresistible force. When he let her
hand go 1t was with an abruptness
which not only let her free but put
her. as 1t were. away from him. He
asked her If she were comfortable at
Mrs. Ramsdill's, II her boxes had come
In season, and so glanced at her ap-
pearance. 1t should have satisfied
even tyro In women's habiliments,
for from shoes to hat Miss Carew was
faultless in her simple toilet
You have taken up the most diff
cult profession in the world" he said.
II say taken up II you're forced to
it-cursed to it-by temper and talent.
that's one thing; but to write simply.
for example, as profession, why, it's
slavery! Do you." he demanded curt
ly write well?"
NO" she confessed at once.
"Of course you don't!" he accepted
with satisfaction. You couldn't-why
should you? You lack the essentials.
D'abord lie feu sacre-you've not got
that-experience and more misery
than happiness-but both. mark you!
both are Indispensable, and YOU" he
paused and scanned her face with the
intensity which whilst 1t fascinated
her made her shrink.
you have had neither"
Without demur, and an evident dis
taste to prolonging the personal
theme, she said:
May begin to make my notes. Mr..
Tempest?'
He smiled. "will you sit there at
my table?"
He put the chair In place. drew be-
fore her paper and choice of pens.
ink, and sharpened pencils, left her
DUO anu WCht lTOul VI uSIs
where he sat down facing her, closing
his eyes and folding his arms across
his breast
Write" he commanded, what 1
dictate. please as fast as you can"
In low and measured tone, as II
every word were a pearl and he
weighed 1t, as If every phrase were a
Jewel which he held ur tn see its
quality, Tempest began to compose.
Not in verse. but in an even. sonorous
prose as rich as it was free from man
nerism and ambiguity.
The scribe wrote like lightning and
listened spellbound as she wrote. The
power Of what she was going to tran
scribe shook her as Tempest develop
ed the theme and warmed to his sub
ject. Once as he paused she raised
her ewes Tn his tpr Own ardent deop