Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-05-29


m pet dog has transferred his affections to distant
groom and fled from his kennel" She
laughed carelessly, and he drew back if
rebuffed.
When l look at your Moorish dress"
she went on, Il wonder whether the Arabs
and the Moors don't have trouble with
their millners-or shall say tailors? And
wonder again whether that isn't the reason
for their deep seated melancholy. Yet,
they always look well groomed."
oh | suppose So. ~, he answered nn :. 1t
>Rot serious woes'
LsYA Why, how tragic you are this evening!
1YFAtA} You out of sorts, aren't you? Let
~ talk of-of-" her voice in spite of her
sNCsS splendid self control had sounded pathetic
ANS2 and she bit her lip and frowned she
X NJ stopped speaking.
~ a.. A H, Miss Clarke" he said softly let
y "a not try to assume something that per-
RNHH haps do feel. We may go even
aGME further in this, dying farce where the
3 - lights auttering for the end and the
HPAI tired actors watching for the drop; but
IA & it would be hollow and uniting end for
"a y your and my friendship.
~ # She gasped sharply and again leaned over
~ as if something had come before her eyes
ny and clouded their vision until she must come
=, closer to him to read his thought. The
end! The end Captain Whitney-of yours
and my friendship? What have 1 done?"
II do not expect to remain in Fee when return"
he answered lamely " 1t may be that we shall never
again be thrown together in such delightful way in
the Garden of Fate. have not even the certainty
of ever returning to Europe after once am back in
America. The allurements of imagination are
largely gone 1t is quite possible, indeed, that
tor few hours after my return from the coming eX
petition may not each other again.
Hardly" she responded: 1t is not world of
distances any Friends each other
days, if the friendship is sufficiently strong shall
certainly want to Charlotte many, many times
after-after you have taken her away"
He could not be sure that her voice had fatered or
that her heSitanCy other than that OF seeking
words. He angered at himself for questioning,
n and yet he had miserable hungry desire to know
H. whether she would grieve if they to meet
y in the future. Disciplined were his emotions and
at his tongue he dared not speak lest in his torment he
y might things he would afterward regret. He
fully aware that one impetuous speech would cause
ID her to lose esteem she might entertain for him,
er and admired her for it. He felt that to voice any
lie thing of his tumult would be dishonorabe and
y to the girl to whom he pghted-who he believed
,, relied on him for her ultimate happiness. And SO.
silent and depressed he sat and stared in front of
l. him while she leaned her head deJectedly on her
lie hand, resting her elbow the marble rail behind
d the pergoa benches. A pervading stiffness
everywhere, and yet it alive and stirring with
ID the myriad world of the night in which the soft
- serenadeS of the BIRDS the wh1r OF tiny winged
g things the gentle rustling of the living leaves and
g the slow 1eapng of the waters blended into
tone of sound. Above all this the voices of the
lie others advancing in their direction.
o A S if suddenly conscious that their hour
" end he to his feet and paused before her.
" Quite YEARLY she accepted his hand and stood look
n ing up into his eyes with gravely troubled ex-
e, preston. If his fingers unconscious1y gave any
pressure of warmth, she neither noticed it nor made
e return, did she attempt to withdraw her hand
h from his clasp. The footsteps were audible now.
l. You may do something for me, she said softly.
Guard my brother as you would If he were yours;
1t for in action he is mpetuous."
s. I WILL he said.
y And you may give me one other promise; that
7. you will not fooshly rush into peril yourself"
e His hand frightened and he leaned forward, his
d face twisting little with his suppression.