The Julesburg grit-advocate., 1910-04-21

routine. 6Ae as1e ~ pasap ~ vey
Of the main rod - shs ~ Ao.e ON
the stormy aight several veeks b.
fore. vhea she sought Cravsa for the
nrst and 20 boldly AsnaAAsA inter.
view With its master.
A. she followed IL avsaus 4. the
cold morning she walked through
mist. II cleared oaly 70 lst her ng.
ure cut the vapor. which directly
closed behind her again into one of
the fogs in which vintsr England
Is mysteriously yelled: before her the
shapes Of trees indistinctly designed
themselves like seaweed IN a muGxy
sea.
A little more than thrse-auarters
of the way up the drive she heard
the trot Of . horses fest. and before
she could step aside To permit, as
she supposed. some grooa from
Craven to pass her. aa equine head
and body loomed 10 close that she
gave q cry. and the horse was sud.
denly drawn back until he almost
reared.
The hand on the rein was q wom.
ans. the rider a woman. her tri.
cornered hat and coat and lips and
cheeks all scarlet. She exclaimed,
half frightened. half annoyed:
Heaven! I might have hurt you!"
and stared down at the roadside en-.
cumbrance-and At sight oe Miss
Carev nodded . sort Of good morn.
ing: an expression of quick curiosity
shot across her handsome. mockinE
face-"hurt you or been thrown my.
self. You're not startled"
The rider held her horse quiet in
the fog. and mercilessly scrutinized
the young woman. who. dark and
slender. of loveliness no less marked
than her own. Of q grace NO less
seductive than her ladyship's, ap-
peared to have miraculously unfolded
into existence in the elm avenue
and to have taken form out of fog
and mists. She presented . problem
suggested manifold Possibilities and
at least commanded attention.
Without excuse or preamble:
You're walking up to Craven
castle?" the rider asked her.
Yes"
You're nearly there. however, but
perhaps you know the way!"
Il think l shall find It."
The PEDESTRIANS dress was exces.
sively plain. In her hands she car.
ried q little packet which looked like
notebook. She had doubtless .
Baedeker up her sleeve.
You're an American?"
A slight smile touched the grave
features of the younger woman.
How did you know?"
The other laughed frankly.
The same language, so different in
Transatlantic mouths. I mean to say
you speak American Craven isn't
open to visitors. like Penthuen and
the neighbOring castles"
MOT"
ITS shut and barred. I might say.
You won't get in. But I expect you're
q hero-worshipper and are going to
try for 4 glimpse Of the great writer:
Your country people are hero-wor.
shippers"
Il think we are"
The lady's horse stretched his long.
shining neck. The smoke from his
nostrils blended with the mist and
stirred the vapor that flew away be-
fore his breath. 1t flew too around
the head and form of the American
girl and the trim red figure of the lit.
tie eQuestrienne, to whom the mono
syllables of the stranger were banning
and because of her rival beauty an
noying.
She gathered up her slackened
reins. I've been following the
hounds" she vouchsafed, and I've
cut through Craven by mistaken
a few minutes l shall hear the horn"
She leaned on her pommel, her mind
travelling back to her last interview
with Mr.. Tempest at Penthuen. and
suddenly she exclaimed with a sharp
"Ah!" of enlightenment, and as
though she did not relish the discov-
cry:
Why. I've seen you before"
Miss Carew. who knew as we'll as II
she had seen her daily for years, said:
Il think never"
But yes-a day or two ago-you
wore a red dress-you were driving
with Mr.. Tempest in a motor. I was
driving behind you to Penthuen."
CTO BE CONTINUED.)