Evening star., 1912-01-14

shock this afternoon"
"A shock, ma cherie! | AMI am he
sputtered lamentably.
"Perhaps not shock, exactly: rather an
awakening"
@To awaken, Chfrie, means that one has
had the JOY of the dream
"I have had that JOY. l am grateful for
it." Her eyes fell. She had nerved herself
to the moment; but there are limits to cour-
age. She found hers in the glance of SYM
pathetic attention.
Listen" She coughed and shelled some
almonds, making geometric patterns with
the coverings as she did with bits of paste
board in the schoolroom. Tomorrow is my
birthday. | am thirty-two, poor, an orphan,
with nothing but my ability to work to stand
between me and destitution. | am plain
and unattractive; SO the world passes me
by looked in the glass tonight and had 1t
all out, face to face with reflection that has
no 1attering tongue
d"
Eyes, l know You are thirty-two.'
"Thirty-two and three weeks, Mademoi-
selle"
@Thirty-two and three weeks, Signor! 1t
is fine age for man. You are on the
threshold of life. You have fortune and sue
cess before you
He was looking at her intently, curlously.
She raised her eyelids timidly, then dropped
them again. She forced herself to a con-
CluSiOn.
"That is why may have seemed absent
minded, Indifferent, while you told me that
your voice was coming back She made
gesture expressive as any of his own and
stopped. He waved his glass to the immi-
nent risk of its contents in answer. He mo-
toned her to raise her own. She obeyed,
and the edges touched.
al drink to your health, Mademoiselle,
and to the thirty-second birthday
He drank sparingly, touching his throat
to explain his abstinence. The few swallows
she took caused faint color to dye her
cheeks and depression to release her from
its iron grip. He clasped his soft, thick
hands, whose fingers were encircled with
many curious rings. His face, in spite of his
years, was like that of mischievous boys.
"MIademoiselle, we celebrate that birth
dayi' He cast look of dsdain about the
shabby room @No, not here. Tomorrow
evening at seven-thrty you meet me up
town" he gave directions. "There is d
restaurant nearby where they have music
not real music, of course; but sounds you can
listen to without gritting your teeth,-the
menu is good, within my humble means, and
there is a light wine, bottled by the pro-
prietor, that will make you forget, Made
moiselle, that you are thirty-two and plain
YOU said plain?'
They both rose, and his heels clicked their
goodnight. She did not dare say anything,
for fear the tears SO perilously near the sur
face might fall. She looked over her shoul-
der from the door. He was stroking the res
taurant cat and murmuring, ma cheyie, ma
eheriel' He was sorry for her, as he was for
the cat or any other unfortunate!
TT was seven o'clock the next evening, and
= in Melanis restaurant there was great
excitement. Melani himself, leaping two
stairs at time, came from the basement
kitchen brandishing wet towel in his hand
while his black hair stood erect. The cook
followed at his heels, and he in turn was pur-
sued by the head waiter, who had interrupted
a subterranean conference with his startling
news.
As Melani appeared, one of the new
walters they changed frequently there
stepped aside to give him place. He had
been explaining to half a dozen strangers
clustering about the door, whose manner of
authority and well fitting clothes emphasized
their unfamiliarity, that Mario Acritelli was
usually dining there at this time; but to-
night, for some unknown reason, he had not
appeared.