Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-06-16
CHAPTER CONTINUED.


you. When is Travers going to take YOU
for a change
II don't know. Not just now. Be-
and hustle"
"You used not TO. You were all for out
door sports and beautiful scenery"
"Yes but now it is different / could
not stand the quiet. I must have noise
to distract me- mean, have grown so
accustomed to it..
Yes he said. slowly, lone grows ac-
customed to it." Then. presently. he
added. in another tone: AT any rate.
my term in Madras is at an end. l re-
turn to Marut next week"
She started The start was almost a
violent one and her hands fell Imply In
her lap.
You are going back to Marut?" she
said. Forever
He smiled but his eyes avoided hers
Not forever, l hope. / am sick OF pen
work and want to get back to the front
among my men. There is company OF
sepoys to be stationed at Marut and they
have given me the command. It's a good
post. though. of course. / would rather be
at the frontier, where there's something
doing At any rate, / must get away
from Madras as soon as possible.
Yes she said, absently. mo doubt 1t
is hest"
She went on stitching as though moth
ing had happened. but her hands trem-
bled, and once she threw back her head,
as though fighting down strong emo
ton. But he had ceased to watch her.
He was leaning a little forward. one ell
bow resting on his knee, his eye fixed
SteadfaStly in front of him.
Can be the bearer of any messages?"
he asked. at last.
mo, thank you. I write regularly. Or
yes. you might tell them that you LEFT
me well and. happy. That will please
them. Will you be so kind?'
'Will it be kind to give a message
which Is not quite true?-I mean. he
added, hastily, you do not seem strong. =
ooh, l am strong enough. l do not
think I shall ever be i'll.
Another long and painful silence inter-
vened. There was no sound. save Lois
thread as it was drawn through the thick
material Nicholson drew out his watch.
You mustn't think me rude. Mrs.
to his old formality, but | have any
amount of work to do before / leave. and
among other things / wanted to see your
husband on business. He told me the
other day that he had some shares In
the Marut Company going. and said IL
Her work dropped from her hand to the
floor She stared at him with a face
whittier than the linen she had been stitch
ing.
"But you are not going to buy them?"
she asked. sharply. Something In her
tone forced him to meet her eyes.
'Oh. I don't know. Why not? I'm
poor business man, and your husband al
ways seems to come off well in his ven
lures. Without being in the least a specu-
Id z Ia
money" He smiled Il have another
craze on. you sea gun this time-and II
requires capital to complete. So ]
thought
She leaned forward. One small hand
lay clinched on the table between them
.anc there was a force and energy in hel
attitude which arrested his startled at
tention.
II think you are mistaken. Capt
Nicholson she said. "My husband has
no shares to sell.
But yesterday he told me that he
had!''
Eyes, yesterday. no doubt, But he
heard today from the rajah. | think, II
you do not mind waiting, he will tell you
himself that what l say is true.
For q second they looked straight al
each other without speaking. Neither was
conscious Of any clear thought, but both
knew that In that breathing space they
had exchanged signal from those hid
den chambers which men unlock only IN
brief moments of silent crisis. The crisis
had come In spite of a years defiant
struggle. It had broken down the barrier
of trivial commonplaces behind which
they had always sought shelter. 1t had
rushed over them in fash, like a sud
den tidal wave, Scornfng their pafnfully
erected defenses, driving them helplessly
before 1t. 1t had no apparent cause. save
that in that moment of alarm she had
looked at him with her soul unguarded.
and he, overwhelmed by that silent reve-
lation, had allowed his own sternly re-
pressed secret to flash back its breathless
message. Nicholson was the first to re-
gain his self-control. He bent down. and
picking up her work. restored il gently
to her hands.
"You must go on with your sewing
he said. Il like seeing you work. II
completes the picture of a-home--
Yes she interrupted. in a rough.
broken voice. 1T is a perfect picture.
is it not? Just so. as IL is-only, OF
course"-she laughed as he had never
heard her laugh before-''of course, it's
only a tableau-it isn't real"
Once more her head was bent over her
work. He saw how with every stitch
she was fighting stubbornly for calm
fighting with all the logged desperation
of high-minded woman who sees her
self trembling at the edge OF bottom
less abyss He knew now for certain that
her apparent happiness was sham and
an heroic lie-that she knew what be
knew of Travers outside life. and suf-
ferad with the intensity which honor
must suffer when linked with dishonor.
He saw, with soldiers instructive adj
miration that she was holding her ground
against the fierce and unexpected attack
of an overwhelming enemy. and that he.
who had his own battle to fight, must
hold out to her a helping. Strengthening
comrades hand.
"I.oisr' he said, quietly. Lois"
She went on working. The name had
been a test of her strength and she had
borne It. He knew that he could go on
with what he had to say.
"Lois, We had our young enthusiasms
in those old days-craZes, we will call
them-and, of course, like all young en-
thusiasms. they are gone forever But
there were other things. Sometimes we
used to talk very seriously about life, do
you remember? / dare say we talked
nonsense for the greater part-we were
very young-but we were intensely seri-
Gus. We told each other what we thought
life was. and what We intended TO make
of it, 1t was then we had the idea Of
the cathedral"
She looked up earnestly at him.
1.-The cathedral? Haven't you forgot
temp
mo. 1 never forgot IT.
Il thought you had. 1t is all such a
long time ago. When I read about you
In the papers, ana nedfu VI all the WoH-
ders you had done, / was sure yoG must
have forgotten the chatter of your tif-
teen-year-old playfellow. A man who
spends his day as you did. in the saddle.
and the night in long. anxious watches,
does not have time for such ideas as We
cultivated in those days.
You are wrong, Lois. The idea Is
everything. 1t is the handspring of a
mans life. If I did anything wonderful.
as you say. 1t was for the sake of the
cathedral. There was. for instance. one
night which I remember very we'll A