Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-07-16

seemed most like the Jeff of other days when
he was talking of himself, and she allowed
him to do this by the hour, listening, ques-
tioning, and encouraging. If this was to
make the most of her life, perhaps it might
be as well to get used to the idea. Jeff's
schemes seemed like a page out of fairy
book, and whether she would or not she went
along with him. There seemed no limit to
his invention, and there seemed little doubt
in his mind, or indeed in hers, that the world
was to be made to provide very generously
for them both.
TT was on the eve of their wedding day that
Jeff first spoke of his childhood. II sup
pose you know, Camilla, l never had a
father; that is" he corrected mot one to
brag about. My mother was waitress in
the Frontier Hotel at Fort Dodge. She died
when | was born That's my family tree
You knew it, guess; but l thought maybe
you'd like to change your mind"
He looked away from her. The words
came slowly, and there was note of heavi-
ness in his voice. She realized how hard it
was for him to speak of these things, and
put her hand confidently in his.
eyes, 1 knew she said softly; "but 1
never weighed that against you, Jeff. 1t
only makes me prouder of what you have
DtCOIlc. f1llu dlCeI d pause, D1u
you never hear anything about him?"
"There were some letters written before
| was born. III show them to you some day.
He was from New York, that's all know.
Maybe you can guess now why didn't like
Cort Bent"
Camilla withdrew her hands from his and
buried her face in them, while Wray sat
gloonily gazing at the opposite wall. In a
moment she raised her head, her cheeks
burning. ayes, l understand now" she
muttered. "He was not worth bothering
about"
A ND now they were at the hotel in New
York, where Jeff had come on business.
The Empire drawing room overlooked
F1fth-ave. and the cross street. There was
a reception room in French style, dining
room in English oak, library Flemish),
a smoking room (Turkish), hall Dutch),
and a number of bedrooms, each a repro
duction of a celebrated historical apartment.
The wall hangingS were of silk, the curtains
of heavy brocade, the pictures poor copies
of excellent old masters, the rugs costly, and
the fixtures in Camilla S bathroom were of
solid silver.
Camilla stood before the cheval glass in
her dressing room (Recamier), with the as
sistance of her maid and modiste, trying
on fetching hat and afternoon costume.
Chairs tables, and the bed in her own Sleep
ing room were covered with miscellaneous
fnery.
When the women had gone, Camilla drop
ped into chair in the drawing room. There
was something about the made to order
magnificence that oppressed her with its
emptiness. Everything that money could
buy was hers for the asking. Her husband
was going to be fabulously wealthy every
month since they had been married had de-
veloped new possibilities. His foresight was
extraordinary, and his luck had become
byword in the West. Each of his new ven
lures had attracted large following, and
money had flowed into the Golfers of the
company. 1t was difficult for her to realize
all that happened in the wonderful period
since she had sat at her humble desk in the
schoolhouse at Mesa City. She was not sure
what it was that lacked, for she and Jeff got
along admirably; but the room in which she
sat seemed to be one expression of it, a room
to be possessed but not enjoyed. The only
difference between it and the parlor at Mrs.
Brennan's was that the furniture of the hotel
had cost more money.
To tell the truth, Camilla was horribly
bored. She had proposed to spend the
,,,ornipoc u,har loft u,oc dou,r toy,r, ~, tho