The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-04-16

between curously, somewhat as though she expected scar
 She was not given to analysis of her emotions, Yvette. She only stared and sighed and presently undressed herself, and went to bed with queer little smile twisting of her mouth. She did not sleep very much, it is true, but engage ment involves certain amount of excitement not conducive of slumber and Yvette had not expected to sleep. went upon her way with considerable calm.
 Also, when Whiting next kissed her, she neglected subsequently to erase 1t. She was nothing like so ardent as be- it is true, but then she explained to him with lovely indifference, ardor is not the woman's part ~
 "H'mph!' said Whiting. After those brief crucial moments at the opera he had rsganed something cation not untouched with cynlc1sm Il dare say balance of power-eh!"
 There is old French proverb," said Yvette, turning her wnking solitaire about cool white finger (which says that there is always one who presents 1s the cheek It is true, suppose And it should be the man who kisses Otherwise he might sH'mph!' said Whiting again. There's some thing in that, of course-for firtations-and ep- sodes This thing of ours goes bit deeper-eh? we'll in case you ever decided to take the initiative Mind ind being kissed. Yyettel" "
 "Yes-of course," said Whiting He stroked his clean-shaven chin, which yet but one chin, and looked at Yvette of keen clear, gray eyes. His own smile had winning kndliness, but it came slow. Of course" he repeated. By nature you're triAe cold, fancy-that's all"
 Yyette looked at, at him swiftly and looked away
 "Queer! said Whiting "your eyes, now-but you wouldn't have said you'd marry me unless you cared-Yvette?"
 "You're very beautiful" said Whiting, "and you're up grand passion, somehow. l don't want to be insstent about it, but, my dear girl don't for Gods ond tG1 a e eru injustice"
 You seep to think" said Yvette, "that it is inn Not impossible" said Whiting, quietly: "An ex- qusite miracle, if you like. Nothings impossible But can't seem to believe in my happiness. and wish it might sometimes to you to touch me of your accord" Then he asked strange question; Ever been anybody else, Yvette% ,.n she feels the wall at her back.
 "I don't know what you mean"
 "Any other man? said Whiting slowly. At any Said Yyette: q have known great many men," was thinking? Any of 'em leave scar?"
 A scar, you will remember, was what Yvette had rrobably felt justified now in smiling and shaking her head. ,,,
 Afterwards, when she remembered the converse tion she gave audience to ghost by way of corol- forward trumphantly. Mrs de la Fuente swan in satisfaction like trout in a purling stream. She designed gowns and matched @ laces She hobnob6sd
 
 line of hat was in her dreams by night and the argot of the sewing room was on her tongue by that money certain of Mrs. de Ia Fuente's diamonds found their. way into the loan-shops. Yvette pro- q do not wish, mamma, that you should ruin yourself"
 "1n my rousseau two dozen of everything Upon my petticoats even was real lace-and the veil of my Dear Little little will When Yvette had definite desire to express upon this point, her mother reproached her tragic "Is it that you do not care? Unnatural child! ] remember that I was mad with excitement for wssd e ye to M ed te aF h0T much was placed upon sklrt-and had but fifteen yeaTss aD;a ,ou ..rh,,. ,;a. uo,u 1or ,.n.,., ., of the altar?' inquired Yvette Then she kissed her mother upon the cheek, and smiled She might have been the lovely elder sister of that other little girl in veil and orange blossoms.
 At least" said Mrs della Fuente signing before the hopeessness of Yvettes disnterest, "your papa approved. He found wonderfully gowned All have eyes for chiffons upon woman they love Tonee will know your veil is badly draped" And will he punish me, do you think?" asked Yvette. "Will he perhaps beat me, mammal"
 She put on her hat while her mother still that accentuated the cearness of her coloring and out to motor with Whiting upon a wintry road. Those were not unhappy days.
 Then the man back I believe there is saying that this feat is not possible Still, he His name Douglas Hays and Whiting brought him to call one Sunday afternoon.
 Yvette coming into the drawing room halted very little in her. slow, gracious step. Her eyes when they first fell upon his face widened and dark ened Perhaps a slow flush burned across her cheek. But she gave her hand unhestatingly. Yvette had
 "Yvette," said Whiting, may present Mir. Hays? Miss de Ia Fuente MT. Hays"
 And Yvette smiled.
 "I think she said, "that I remember Mr. Hays. The year out-was it not?'
 Mr. Hays smiled in his turn, but somewhat stf1y. His surprise wrote itself almost iinperceptbly upon a 1ean sunburned face His eyes in that brown inscrutabe setting bright and blue like jewels but the line of his mouth hard.
 You've met before?" said Whiting in pleasant inquiry
 "Ouite some time ago." the other man admitted, equally upon the surface of things It's good of you to remember me-Miss de la Fuente." Only to Yvete's conscious ear did the slight hesitation sug- that h~ stumbled the formal aDDellaton.