The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-03-23

older! The woman who has given him the go-by must be born idiot: Here you are, Ronnie! Table next the window. How we'll you are look ing! That's the sea air. You must take Clemmy and me for a spin. for we're getting as dried up as two monkeys. Now you want to hear the news-want to know, for in- stance, who's at this little gilded Ha- des"
 Ronald nodded with an affectation of interest which he was conscious was poor enough.
 "well, there's nearly all our small gang here," said Brandon, as, with his own hand. he filled Ronald's glass with champagne. They're all here, diverting themselves in the old fashion; and precious glad they'll be to see you, for we've all been mourn ing for you like a parcel of hens over a chicken that's strayed from the run. We shall meet 'em in the rooms presently. Clemmy and l have gone partners, and have won quite pile of money. Now, what's your news. my boy? Been enjoying yourself ?-you look like it."
 "Oh, yes!" said Ronald. ''Vane and I have been sailing together, and he has left the Hawk with me, so I'm cruising about I leave tomorrow" Brandon kicked Clemson under the table. There was a pause; then Ron- aid said, with touch of colour in his drawn face, Have you seen Lyd- stone? How is, he?"
 "Is it Lydstone you are asking for?" said Brandon lightly. "No; we've not seen him of late. He's gone down East a-travelling. Oh, he's all right! No need to worry about him, Bonnie; the devil, takes care of his own"
 Ronald drew breath of relief.
 'I'm glad" he said gravely.
 Brandon and Clemson kept the bail going; and after dinner, which was a work of art, and a masterpiece al The electric lights were glowing like fire-f1ies in the warm, dusky night, the murmur of well-bred voices mixed with the dulcet strains of the band; the glamour of luxury, of natural and artificial beauty, hung like a per- fume over the scene; but Ronald look ed round him with an aching heart. If Cara were only by his side to en- joy the wonderful place!
 They strollled upwards to the road flor none of the three was anxious to exchange the balmy air for that of the gaming room-and, as they stood looking at the people who were pass ing, a carriage drawn by a pair of 1 magnificent bays dashed past them l in the direction of the Casino. The carriage. a very handsome one. was closed; but Ronald caught sight of a man reclining in it.
 There goes the Count" said Bran
 
 'Who is it?" asked Ronald, forc- l ing himself to display some interest. well we call him just the Count replied Brandon. His name | is-tut, tut, forget. He's the most 1 desperate plunger we've got; plays
 high, and wins or loses tremendous
 sums; but they say he's as rich as Croesus and can afford it. He has l got that villa at San Remo-you know | the one mad Angleford built-keeps
 up quite palatial establishment | there, army of servants, horses, car. riages, and the rest of it; but nobody
 seems to know much about him. Some say that he is a rich contractor who has made his million, and bought nj: title with an estate som nowhere in It i ally. Who cares? Nobody here, 2 any rate; so long as you've got th.
 money and spend it you're all right
 Certainly the Count spends his, remarked Clemson. "Chucks it abou with both hands. He's a born gam bier, too-you'n see him presently
 Ronnie-he'd serve as an awful ex
 ample. Shall we go in?
 l Ronald would have liked to hav