The Fairmont West Virginian. (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1904-1914, 1911-08-19
cHApTER <.

Richards promotion came sooner
ythan he had dared hope The art critic
was to take trip to Europe and
Derring was offered the position.
| Something in the quality Of his ar
tieies had attracted attention; and he
had even handed In several specials
ION his own account, that were ac-
ceptedswi some show ofinterest.
He owed his rapid advancement
partly, too, to something that, for
want Of a better name, we call per
sonality. Those who came near him
felt its influence. The Office boy ap.
proved ofFhim: the managing editor
stood ready to help him. That he gave
no return to. the liking he inspired
seemed tomake no difference. His un-
satisfied heart was a magnet, drawing
Ito itself TIE particles Of humanity and
holding tltn.
His new work took him to the Art
Institute and into the world Of artists,
land he saw his new friend often.
semetimes they estopped for a word IN
the halls; sometimes he sought her
studio in tbeintervals Of work. Their
relation had become that Of good-com.
radeship. Derfing supposed that he
feit towards hersas he would have felt
towards "a man-Aif there we're such a
man. He turned to her with each new
interest. They discussed every sub
1ect iii the range of art, literature and
life! But their intercourse was free
rom even hint of love-making. She,
Ehad only the grays and browns Of her
apparel
Z With hisspromotion and increase Of
salary Derring had changed his board
ling place II. d pleasanter part of the
city He had not thought to ask her
where she lived. It had not occurred
to him that he might happen en- the
same place until the first night at din-E
'ner when he raised his eyes from his
plate; and found her on the opposite
side Of the table smiling quietly at his
SUNRISE. IL.
SiGnat She saw Ines SUI prise WAS, eVl5s
dent, But thaSshe OWNED the accom-
pangtng vsxation could be guessed
only from the3scare she took to put
hind at ease. IT was like her. She
would not be SO stupid as to misun-
yderstand him any more than ma4C
would have done.
It was three months after the be-
ginning of their acquaintance that he
hurried into the. studio one morning
to ask her tolend him a book be had
seen in her bookcase. He was short
Of material, he explained. He wanted
to work up the Arundel collection. If
she would lend him that book It would
save him a trip to the library
In his haste he did not notice
thoughshe remembered afterwards
the slight hesitation with which she
took the book from the case and hand
ed 1t to him, 1t was small, leather
Rbound pocket edition, such as tourists
carry, and bore In gilt on the side,
1.-THE Masterpieces of Europe and
England"
yves, that Is It," He opened it at
random, running the leaves through
his fingers I will bring It back
soon. !" n B s
With the book still open in his hand
he hurried from the room.
1--WE minutes later he appeared
again n the doorway.
III shall have to go to the library.
after all. J" me said, abruptly. q have
brodght back your book"
Il am sorry you did not find what
you wanted She did mot look up
from her work. She could not have
seen the color In his face and she may
not have noticed the slight tremer in
his voice as he replied:
fits no matter. / can find It at the
library.
It had become matter Of course
that he should come and 90 In this
easy way, with no ceremony; but it
had not become a matter Of course
that he should leave the studio with
shIspulses thltnderlng inhis ears. Yet
nothing had happened. He had turned
tile leaves carelessly in his hand as he
went down tie stairs,
II had; stared at him from the white
pages. ITO John Dalton, with love.
atielen Gordon
+ It rang in his ears as he hurried on
hat and coat and hastened to the IL
brafy. 1t danced before his eyes be.
tween the pages Of books. with
love- That meant a history And
abe had the book now. There had
been either a parting or death.
Stupid! He had not guessed or
dreamed. The restful quiet Of her life
covered asiead secret. 5aS
He found himself, through the day
and as he walked home at night, re:
pestihg over and over, as II, 1t were a
feifain: THE ashes Of a dead love-
Yes, that vas what 1t was like that
.sssttnlnes 81 hsrs assiun burned
q, ashes. WY hid he never guessed
And was dead? Would she love
again IN, I. q Y: M
Tie qieat Hon sting him IieSdtic is
~ I,fs g,ti6n IJhs Ind Il al fbnirift ~ /.