Evening star., 1912-07-21

cOufdn [ explain 1t to you because you've
always been well. But I've missed so
much-so much pleasure l mean--and it's
quite right for me to take it now. | know
that it IS.
The next day she fell severely i'll. |
supposed it would show her she had been
wrong: indeed, l was so sure of it that |
compassionately said nothing. While she
was still unable to go out. l stayed with
herb }most of the time. and Sidney Fenneli
would come in and stay for hours. playing
to her Yet each day that she became
stronger I became more disturbed. There
should have been plans for her leaving us.
and there were none. The icy fogs that
stole close to her windows were impor-
tunate enough in reminding her: but she
gayly turned her face from them Then,
suddenly, l knew the reason for her heed
lessness.
1t was evening that we three had sat
for a long time talking in Constance
Larcher's studio. or rather, she and Sid
ney talked and l, who had always less to
say, listened At last Sidney left us and
went to the piano. For once l did not
follow his music. for he was playing a
composition of his own that had heard
a good many times; sat thinking, rather,
of Constance Larcher. wondering; wheth-
er l ought not to speak seriously to her
that very night, and learn what she was
planning to do. In my perplexity looked
suddenly toward her. as though the sight
of her might help me. She sat bending
forward, her whole attitude and atmos-
phere that Of woman unconscious COM
pletely off her guard. And in that face
that always before had been SO composed
and undertaking was a kind of rapture
nothing less. She was looking at Sidney
Fennell. 1 turned quickly away. a sudden
terror whirling through my head, and left
the room, pretending stupidity that l had
heard Dick come in
Men are fond of calling women inscru-
table. and from the fallacious character Of
their deductions / suppose they must
really fird them so. But the difficulty
must lie in the eyes of men. since to one
another women are rot inscrutable. 1t
seemed to me, l remember. an appalling
thing that after the incident l have men,
toned Constance Larcher should have
been as defenseless as she was against
my fortuna tely friendly vision. Without
any deliberate effort. and actual prvfng,
l saw into her sheltered heart as readily
as though she had been the crudest girl.
II was moi that her friendliness to Sidney
was not as disarming. her conventional
punctilousness as complete. as these had
been before. 1t was her shield and her
charm that Constance Larcher was so
beautifully initiated In the most elaborate
niceties of civilized intercourse. She was
seldom utterly spontaneous. so much of
her energy being given to adapting her
self to persons or subjects. to bridging
marshy spots Or avoiding steep ones. A
great deal of time in short. she was de-
lishtfully. considerably untruthful. She
was. therefore. wonderfully equipped for
keeping her secret. and least of all the
world could Sidney himself have guessed
it. Yet through all light, inconse-
quent days together whether we were
u -1-..,
buying laces, a commodity of which Con-
stance seemed to have an inordinate need
her life was SO filled with graceful
inutilities.-I was always able to feel
throbbing within her that which ! think
she would, at that time, have died to con-
ceal.
Her passion may have been but scantily
nourished: such passions usually are.
Once or twice a week she and Sidney
went to the opera together. and it was
studio or that they met in mine. Yet her
senses We're sleeplessly alert for him. Her
hands would flutter ever SO lightly at the
sound OF his step. her eyes dart their
sudden rapturous flight: ard if she heard
him come in or out her animation in
talking Of something that did not concern
him would become unnaturaily intense.
Possessed as ] was henceforth by this
knowledge. it was very womanlike. fear.
that / could not keep from talking to Sid
Eey of Miss Larcher. l longed to test to
probe him. to know if by any chance it
could be possible.
My first rather bungling attempt was
made shortly after the evening / have
spoken of. Dick had gone out after din
| ner, leaving us alone. Sidney and /, and
as we sat talking I imagined he looked
| rather anxiously toward the door
"She's not coming smiled at him.
oh! You mean-"
Miss Larcher.''
She's at the opera -
Il believe go. think you miss her. Sid
ney. when she isn't about
He did not understand this as chal-
lense did not take it up, for all he
said was: How jolly it's been having
her here. One gets SO tired of that dron-
ing old Neil Gillespie
What YOU are thinking Of told him.
is that Neil Gillespie always gets the
better Of you in your enraged discussions,
and that Miss Larcher Is too polite to-
Naturally, YOU enjoy her freedom from
masculine pigheadedness.''
Sidney laughed. II agree with one i'm
plication of your ill-natured rema rk.
Adela, he said. Miss Larcher Is a most
unusually feminine type OF woman It's
charming, the way she doesn't suggest
emancipation.
! looked rather sharply at him. That's
precisely the beauty Of her" | agreed
Every day ! admire more that plant
/ grac.ousness of hers. 1t makes me feel
SO strongly. | added, little sentiment
ally. that she ought never to know pain
that she is woman made for happiness. "
| Sidney was silent for n moment ITO
tell you the truth" the boy then aston
ished me by bursting out, that's the chief
! reason I've liked her--for her sympa .hetic
| quality. / imagined she made you hap
pier. you're such good friends You know
Adela. you are lonely
| OF course. Sidney could not help know
| ing about Dick and me. but he ought not.
| / thought, to have referred to il, and !
was both angry and touched that he did
SO. | felt my cheeks burning and the
| tears coming to my eyes. and knew tina :
we must talk of something else. Suppose
| to say. and we talked no more that night
| of Constance Larcher.
! But neither that nor any of the later
| talks that I had with him gave me any
| hope for my friend. The warm. COM
radely liking that he had for her was
scarcely an encouraging sign. And yet
| how otherwise could this untried boy
have felt toward a woman faded. already
a little pitiful, already suggesting oppor-
| tunities outlved.
I faced all this every aspect of it: and
not least did l face the deservingness of
of merely using him. for however de-
| 81 hle ar and And still I could oot force