Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-02-05

pleasant jests. Once she danced with
Antrebus, dance another claimed and
dancing with Sylvia-Sylvia in scarlet
crepes caught with punches of lemon
f1owers-and she slipped away then,
threading groups of dancers. stealing
from shadow to shadow till she found
the staircase Of the west wing, escap-
ing so to her own room tearing off her
tulle and her pearls. locking her door.
and hiding herself even from dear old
Mrs. Martha.
If only Sylvia had been named for
Uncle Lewis dead wife-and heaven had
given her Sylvia's beauty-how different
the world would be!
She heard the guests departing by and
by. If she could go too! She knew not
where-out of life itself. it may be-for
what a bitter thing life had become!
Where was that gay young girl OF last
summer. to whom life was SO sweet and
the world so beautiful? Lost. lost in
outer darkness. This poor wrath was
but her shadow.
The storm had blown itself out In the
night; the morning made a dazzle of
blue sky and sunshine across the wastes
of snow that in their cold Wilderness. for
all the glitter and sparkle. seemed typi-
cal of death itself. 1t curdled her blood;
she might not love life. but death was
abhorrent. Well she must make herself
live. There were other people In the
worId-her mother, her kind stepfather-
Sylvia would miss her caressing and adj
miring. Antrobus-would Antrobus even
remember there had been such a person
as Zoe? There was no help for it: she
must change the poles. This state of
find some absorbing occupation and en-
gage herself in what needed all her
thought. There was a shelf of Italian
books in the library; she knew little of
the language now; she would bury her
self in the excitements of old Italian his
tory. She had heard Antrobus talking Of
the was writing play out of some
story belonging to it. She had wlshef
then that she were not such a. Ounce.
Sylvia had known what it was all about.
Well, she would know now.
She took big cloak over her arm. for
she would have run on the terrace.
snow. and went down to the breakfast
room. Every one had gone. she found.
for few of the guests. Antrobus among
them. had stayed over. these by invita-
ton, those through the violence OF the
storm. The butler and the second man
had just left the room when Antrobus
"ame in.
Il suppose if one sleeps like the seven
s,eepers he must be content to drink his
coffee cold" he said to Zoe.
II will ring for Colburn. Or. no, In
deed, she exclaimedi II will light the
lamp and in a, moment 1t will be hot
again. would like some hot coffee my
IOu look dS II you neeOeQ d cup VI
it. laced with something more fiery yet.
You hove a headache? You disappeared
so Sc last night And then Zoe had
risen find match, had scratched 1t as
she stood, leaning over to light the
alcohol lamp under. the urn, had Whtrled
i: about in the air. to extinguish 1t and
tossed it down in a hurry to lower the
wick OF the lamp that was burning blue,
Antrobus having walked to the window.
And suddenly she was conscious OF a
swift and feryid sensation of heat, OF an
intolerable smell of scorching. OF q cloud
about her. "Oh, Antrobus, help! help
me!' she cried.
In an instant Antrobus had thrown her
to the floor and seized a rug and rolled
her in it. and had thrown himself beside
her. smothering the flames as he could.
beating them out furiously, breathlessly.
Il am burning to DEATH! was her first
thought. He would do this for any one.
was her next one. ooh. I am dying-in
his arms was the last one. And then
all was black and blank And when she
knew anything again the fire was gone.
the rug was gone. and Antrobus was mold
ing her as II life and soul depended on
his grasp, and whispering:
"Oh. my precious love, my precious
little love! You are safe: oh. thank God.
If you had died-Great God. cant
think Of 1t! The terrible moment! How
could I, how could I have lived!
She heard him. but she lay STILL Just
for the bliss OF hearing And then she
felt his heart beating in great shocks.
IL didn't know" she. whispered
And let that miserable money stand