Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-05-20

little packet in her palm. 1t was. he saw.
a hand that had known labor. 1t was a
long hand and q hand of strength. and
as he was mindful of such matters. it i'm
pressed itself upon his memory.
Thank you she said, and turned
away.
81 am sorry made you angry. 1 did
not mean to do that. I come here quite
often. I hope shall see you again. Some
day you will catch the trick of the lady S
hand. I'm sure Of that"
His tone was kind. his manner in
gratiating; the meeting was altogether to
his likfng-from such a beginning he had
often gone far. This girl bore the marks
of cultivation; it was in her voice. her
manner, the poise of her splendid head.
She was poor-that was evident-but this
was no barrier; her poverty presented,
in fact. an avenue Of access. 1t had been
his experience that the bold approach was
the surest. She was already moving
away. carrying her head high, the anger
still in her face, and he followed her.
please don't be too hard on me- he
begged: and she stopped and looked at
him. looked at him with frank curiosity
that turned. as their eyes met. to scorn
not less frank.
IT don't care for your acquaintance.
Mr.. Wayne Craighill." she said, with all
composure. and walked hurriedly from
the room.
He was fully sensible of the contempt
with which she had spoken his name, a
name that was odious to clean women in
this city of his birth. He unused upon
this fact as he started toward the door
through which she had vanished: he was
a notorious character whom people of all
classes knew by sight and reputation. She
had, he imagined, suffered him to speak
to her only that she might see for her
self how contemplate man might become
The girls scorn emphasized his degrada-
had sunk so low that even poverty and
obscurity shrank from him. Those sim
pering young things who had cut him
little while before, those bread-and-butter
misses. who reflected merely the meticu,
ious virtue Of their own social order. did
not matter. But this young woman. with
her labor-roughened hands. had widened
the gulf between him and decency with
glance, a turn Of the head. word. Her
words continued to mock him as he left
the gallery and descended the stairway
to the orchestra boards room below. He
kept wondering what musical instrument
her voice suggested. and the thought OF
her was so enthrallipg that he passed
the committee room and did not come to
himself until a guard touched his cap and
pointed him to the door.
He and Wingield were the only men,
bers Of the board who appeared today, as
frequently happened. Wayne sat down
at window to discuss the programs that
had been submitted by the orchestra 49,
rector. which Wingfield now proceeded to
tear to pieces.
sic is certainly exquisite. We're not go
ing to appeal to the primitive tastes OF
our dear fellow-citizens by Harding a
Wagnerian program with the Blue Dan
ube waltz and the Bon-Ton twe-step. And
Mendelssohn's Spring Song as harp SOLO
is too stale. We're going to keep on SHOW
ing symphonies into the people OF our
dear city this winter as you shovel coal
into a furnace. Well. what now?"
Wayne's glance, straying to the street
through the window by which they sat,
had fallen upon the girl whom he had
left in the gallery a moment before. she
had emerged from the main entrance OF
the building and was moving off briskly.
But what had drawn an exclamation from
Craighill was the appearance upon the
scene of a man who seemed to have been
waiting and who now followed the girl at
a discreet distance. 1t was. beyond ques-
ton, Joe. Wayne's chauffeur. whom he
had dismissed for the day an hour be-
fore.
Wingfieid, following Wayne's glance.
saw only. the girl, now passing rapidly
out of sight
who's your Diana. Wayne? She mas
the stride of a goddess and carries her
head as though she had just brushed the
rest of the deities of Olympus.
II don't know her." said Craighlii, ana
changed the subject.