Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-01-21


| jumped at being so easily recognized;
but, after all, the letters were of course the
same. Fancy how well she must have known
| the list, that lady, to recognize the initials
| offhand that way when she just saw them
embroidered on a handkerchief! So, as
there was no particular use in denying my
identity, | answered in cool tone, like Aunt
| Elizabeth:
"Yes.'
"Ah!' Her blue eyes enlarged themselves,
and she stared me up and down. sand beg
your pardon, but do tell me, is that an an
cestress of yours, whose name one sees under
that of Marie Antoinette, in the tomb of
Louis XVI? And is he any relation to you,
the Vicomte de Vauquieres de Clugny, who
is president of the Club of the lie de Pu-
teaux?"
| answered yes to both questions; though
as a matter of fact Uncle Dominique hadn't
been so nice to me that should be very keen
to own him. However, one can't deny ones
family, and the droli thing was my new
friend was perfectly delighted to hear | was
the niece of the lie de Puteaux, and imme-
diately opened large box of marrons glaces,
ieri, only prettier. (NIe, noire CONNIE nne
taubel But it S certainly true that people do
stare. l pretend to be annoyed, of course;
but in reality, what joyD
So, after that the voyage was pleasanter.
Aunt Elizabeth, naturally, would scream at
the notion of my making friends with a
stranger; and certainly l must own that
Madame Cobb has not that exquisite air of
the ladies at Brent. She is very chic, so
much cannot be denied, and clever as a
Partisan marketwoman. Perhaps that IS
what makes the difference: she is almost too
clever, too eager, too continually straining
Ior hot
though they smile, are always watching; her
hands, generous and kind as they are, seem
always ready to pounce. Pounce? How,
and why? Wherever, probably, that they
could get the chance: just as they pounced
on Aunt Elizabeth's card, the day after our
first acquaintance. If her eyes had popped
from her head at the sight of coronet on
handkerchief, imagine how they bulged at
nobility on visiting card, and ducal title
into the bargain.
"Do you know this lady?" she asked in a
little voice, like Genevieve when she speaks
of France.
After all, why should not tell the truth?
| was not travelling incognito, and there was
small danger of pursuit-alas! And besides,
travellers with less than five hundred francs
in the purse must stick the best foot forward
and keep it out.
aThe Duchess of Porthaven is my aunt,
l answered.
Cyacl There you have it, the turning
point in my history, the ending of my old
troubles, the beginning of my new ones.
And even at the moment one saw that
something had happened that was out of the
ordinary Mrs. Cobb turned pink, and
looked at me as though she were going to
cry: !, az,
Porthaven, the Queens intimate friend!'
she stopped short, and seemed to be trying
to control herself. Il went about little in
London society this past month" she said,
"and l heard the Duchess talked of quite
some; but never met her." She sighed,
and kept on gazing at me with an excited
sort of look in the eyes.
X7HAT would have happened if the shaft
w of the steamer, or some other such
thing, hadn't broken about at this time, |
cannot tell you. However, something did
break, and there we were floating aimlessly
in the middle of the ocean. The Captain
told us all about it at dinner, and explained
that we should have to be patient day or
two till the tug he had telegraphed for had
arrived from New York.
Some of the people grumbled. didn't, be
sure of that! Already the ship had begun to
feel like home, and the thought of New York
:. ~ hs