Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-05-21

You mustn't let Mrs. Wingfeld and these
other old ladies give you nervous pros
trat1on over this business. -,s I've al
ready reminded you. father wasn't born
Yesterday: you may he sure that he is
making no mistake. Very likely she has
a few millions in bank for spending
money. For myself. 1 await her coming
with the liveliest anticipations.'
shadow crossed his sisters face as
she listened. He had spoken harshly and
she did not like the look in his eyes
She knew that he would care. but she did
not know that he would care SO much. He
took a cigar from the tabouret at his ell
bow and lighted it. She studied him care
fully as the match famed. His hands
! were quite steady today. and there was
an air of assurance about him that puz-
| zled her deeply. He blew a smoke-ring
and threw out his arms to shake down
| his cuffs.
Does any one know a thing about the
| woman? Have you found out anything?
That question, my dear sister. has
! been asked many times in the greater
far as / know. an emphatic negative. But
| so much the better. If the gossips have
! nothing to work on they can't do much
The fact of the woman being unknown
| is nothing: it's all in her favor. Mrs
! Craighill. with her faint background OF
New Hampshire-or is it Vermont ?-hel
| long sojourns abroad and all that, will
strike town with clean bill of health
! 1 tell you father is wise in his genera
ton No old bones to pick. The woman
will come into camp as fresh and new
as her trousseau."
| II couldn't say anything the other night
when father told us. but now that the
| newspapers have done their worst il
seems like the end Of everything sighed
Mrs. Blair.
ITO me-" said Wayne. musingly lit is
only the beginning. We had been travel
ing in hard rut. l had become i'm
'mensely bored with the family life. Now
We shall see the vista broaden and
fathers wife-ah. the thought Of it!
am at her feet: | crave her blessing
| Your point of view is all wrong, dear
sister. We must put such feelings aside
our duty. Fanny, Is not to the dead, bu,
to the living
Wayne. Wayne! Will you stop? You
are not yourself: it's not like you to talk
| So
My dear Fanny" he persisted. Ticking
! the ash from his cigar, eff in intimatine
that 1 am not myself YOU imply that
have been drinking l will say to you that
You never did me greater wrong. Not
| only have I had no form of drink today
but our own chaste river water but II
| may interest YOU to know that ! have
| cut out the whisky when it is red alto
gether. ! scorn it: put 1t away forever
| 1 siGnalize our fathers marriage by re-
| nouncing drink. Will you congratulate
me-"
II don't understand you. 1t is not like
you to talk this way"
She was mystihed and stared at him
! with dry eyes, wondering.
; You don't seem impressed by my
reformation: maybe you don't believe
can quit! 1 tell you. Fanny. the Blotter
will soak up the blithesome cocktail no
more. When the new Mrs. Roger Craig
hill comes she shall find me the most alb
! stemious person in town. My friends
| and still have one two-will be In
credulous and amazed: my enemies will
| express regret; the kind who have robbed
| me when I've been loaded will miss an
| income that has been as sure as taxes.
have already committed myself to
father. and he expressed himself with his
habitual reserve as delighted
: Mrs Blair rose and changed her seat to
get nearer him: her mystifcatiOn grew.
/ There was a bitter undernote that belied
his surface lightness.
| Wayne, there is something / want you
| to do, I want you to move out of father s
| house: 1 don't want you to stay after
| this woman comes
(To be continued tomorrow.l