Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-01-14

determined to base the memory of past hap
piness through long life was not to be al
lowed her! She faced the hard featured man.
so eager to tear from her this tiny joy, as
mother faces the enemy of her child. She
hated lie as she hated everything morally
unclean; but, without change in the in
Election of her voice or expression OF her eyes,
she leaned over, gathered the folds OF her
train in her daintily gloved hand, and, bow
ing primly, said:
Il am very sorry, Gentlemen, do not
know where your Signor Acritelli IS. Her
pardon me- as she passed through the lane
they formed was significant of the fact that
they had taken a great deal for granted and
that in holding her at bay in this manner
"Shall we follow herr" asked one.
The manager shook his head. "She amt
Acritelli's sort. George here's had pipe
dream. She's too much the schoolma am
type for our friend. No, we'll 60 back to the
office and see if any of the messengers have
trailed him: if not, we'll send some more
MEANTIME, Mademoiselle was hasten
IVA ing to the rendezvous. The color still
burned angrily in her cheeks, and after she
had run up the steps of the elevated she had
to stop to catch her breath. Her heart beat
furiously How dared they9 She bought
her ticket, and, passing through the gate,
walked restlessly up and down the platform
while she waited for the incoming train. Soon
the anger disappeared. Her color faded.
Conscience, commonsense, the judgment of
the solitary woman who must meet and an
swer questions relating to her destiny without
impulse, without prejudice, resumed their
SWAY. She visualized Acritellis disappoint-
ment when he learned of his lost opportuni
ty. She had said to herself in the first few
mad moments that the next day was nothing
to her, that all she wanted was this last
sweet evening with him, that afterward she
would bear the sorrow, the loneliness, even
the shame, of having BETRAYED friend.
She knew better now. With her tender
sensbilities, she would be unable to enjoy
one moment of the fete, one moment Of a
tortured tomorrow. The lie she had just
spoken burned like acid into her thoughts.
How could she ever have dreamed of doing
him such wrong!
She stumbled from the train and flew
down the stairs. She zigzagged through the
crowded streets in imminent danger of acct
dents. At the appointed corner she saw
him, tall, handsome, with bright color in
his cheeks, the ends of his black mustache
tightly curled and the amber tints in the
wonderful eyes.
She clasped his arm with both hands and
sobs choked her voice, at the relief of pent
ND emotions. She did not look in his face.
"R's voice has broken completely. They've
sent for you from the opera house. You
must go at once, at once! The house is sold
out, and they re crazy. It's your opportu-'
She looked up, to see some flying coattails
and the waving fist of an irate conductor,
who dragged Acritelli on the moving plat
form of the crosstown car.
A LII through the long evening she sat
"A curled in corner of the easy chair
the only one her room contained. She had
carefully removed her gala attire, as if she
had been returning from a real fete and
delayed arrangements for the night, SO that
she might enjoy the pleasure of reminiscent
moments.
Once Acritelli had brought her tickets for
two orchestra chairs. After a second of de-
light at his thought of her, she gave them
back, telling him that she had no one to ac-
company her, and that she was too timid,
anyway, to make part of such fashionable
assemblage. "Perhaps sometime, if you
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