New-York tribune., 1912-03-03

with white mustachc, a great friend Of Mrs
Stuart $, who had a moment ago murmurcd
his applause Of Victor. Well this time he
murmurcd again, quite in my ear:
"Comc, come, my pretty little lady. Your
scnsibility does YOU great credit; but You
really don't expect us 10 believe that you
feel quite so badly as that;
| almost laughed out loud. And, sure
enough, as soon as the maid had put me on
the dressing room sofa, and left me quiet
for moment, Ike the sensible person She
looked. then my tears and my gasps ceased
as if by magic. For a few moments ! lay
supinc, like a tortured beast that has Just
thrown off its load; content TO exist, and no
more, in the realization that my terrible
burden was no longer strapped 20 my shoul-
dcrs. that LUCAS dagger could never be
needed any more, that | was free 10 love
Henry with my whole heart and TO let him
love me. sprang 10 my feet IN idea had
come TO me.
fairly shrickcd for the maid.
She turned back from the window. you
are better, Miss
"Ycs, yes My hand trcmblcd on the
gold bag on my wrist and drew bill from
it at random. "Look, Would YOU ike FIVE
dollars2'
Her hand closed on the money like the
snap Of an autOma,On. She whispered, as
it a word YOU want carried 70 one Of the gen
tlcmcn, Miss
go, no Just take me downstairs and
find me my wraps and put me into a taMcab.
At Onccl'
So downstairs in one Of those breath TAX
ing lifts we fell, as one falls down well.
Perhaps, after all, the Lorraine had not yet
1 T.. II .f fyl. IgT
sailing was DELAYED until this evening. All,
those blessed strikers! Who knows:
thcv had been obstinate enough and violent
enough and wicked enough, perhaps they
had prevented the steamer from taking on
her cargo and sailing perhaps perhaps, ]
might be in time to keep Henry from gong
away, after all.
Downstairs in the hall there were cruel
DELAYS, incredible delays, before the maid
could find my little satin cloak. ! should
have gone at once without it; but in my
white lace dinner dress, with its hanging
fcstoons of pearls, | noticed that people
stared at me as though had escaped from
the Jardin dcs Plantes. Besides, it was late,
nearly one O'Clock, and | didn't want to
make poor Henry ridiculous, arriving to.
look for him-if he was still there looking
like a wild creature.
But at last the cloak was found and
wrapped around me- Then more delays
maddcning delays-for a taxi. Then finally
-ah, that wild dash through the sultry
streets Of the city, behind a chauffeur trying
to earn a tcn-dolar tip by arriving at the
dock of the French Line in ten minutes and
with a volcano in my heart.
As we turned in at the entrance OF the long
wharf shed, suddenly | heard the hoarSc
blast of steamers whistle. All, ! knew
what that meant! The chauffeur shouted
to a man leaning against pile Of packing
cases, a rough looking fellow with the look
of a striker.
"Say, has the Lorraine left YETI
The fellow replied with sullcn stare, NO,
curse her, she ain'ti'
Oh, dear, kind striker, led by Heaven,
owed this good fortune to you! Opening my
bag again, tossed the man bill, Just TO re-
lieve the Joy of my heart. Behind me |
heard the horn of another late comcr's auto
mobile. For a moment | hesitatcd. The
warehouse was 50 long, there were 50 few
lights. so many pcope Where should 60
to find Henry? With blind resolution, |
precipitated myself in the direction whence
the whistle had come. Suddenly heard
voice behind me: