Montpelier examiner., 1910-07-01
CHAPTER I-continuad.

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 a choice of pens,
ink and sharpened pencils, left her
side and went round in front of her,
where he sat down facing her, closing
his eyes and folding his arms across
his breast
Write" he commanded, what /
dictate, please, as fast as you can
In a low and measured tone, as if
every word We're pearl and he
weighed it, as if every phrase We're a
jewel which he held up to see it's
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 eyes to his, her own ardent, deep,
full of emotion, in tribute for the gen
fus she had been permitted to see. She
was unconscious how much of her
self her uplifted face betrayed
Tempest. as If she had hidden his
eyelids to lift, opened his eyes, stopped
speaking. A flush came into his face,
he unfolded his arms and stirred
wait" he murmured don't move"
He held her eyes for a second, then
fell back, set her free, refolded his
arms, and continued his dictation.
Miss Carew filled page after page
with rapid characters. When he had
definitely ceased she sighed, dropping
her pencil. If she had yielded to i'm
pulse, she would have buried her
head on her arms and SO remained
under the spell that had magnetized
her. Too tactful in the presence of
this uncontrolled and personal man
to betray anything of herself or her
feelings. she sat without comment or
movement
Tempest came up to her and lifted
her right hand
You are tired out
"Oh-no-noi'
But you sighed"
Because it was at an end
That's graceful You have written
two hours" He gathered up the
sheets and piled them slowly together.
Why do you push your chair back"
Il must. will be late for Mrs.
Ramsdills lunch"
Mrs. Ramsdill-" He caught him
self You lunch here"
No she said firmly, not to-day,
Mr.. Tempest"
Then he said tentatively: You are
tired of course. I'm a brute, but you
may as we'll know it-a brute absorbed
and egotistical.'
You don't think it, Mr.. Tempest
not of yourself-and | am tired
suppose my 12-mile walk is still in my
bones"
An extraordinarily gentle look came
over his face, his lips parted as il to
say something which he altered.
I won't keep you. then. go and
rest, with Mrs. Ramsdill to coddle you
she's dear little soul-but to-mor-
row, please, you shall work for your
self, | promise you
As she drew on her gloves he said:
nave not written one ine IN SIX
months. To a man of my tempera-
ment no one knows what that means
of nerves and bad humor and-de-
spair. | will not bore you with my
migraines. but | thank you more than
you can know, Miss Carew" At the
carriage he said: II hope you will
lunch well, and remember that | let
you go only from an unseIffsh scrupIe
| can say without exaggeration it's an
epoch in a selfindulgent life
She 1unched at Mrs. Ramsdi1l's like
a queen, for Tempest had sent fruit
and wine and game. The table in the
cottage kitchen had a royal air. for
the service was from Craven and the
wine in dusty bottles, and the fruit