The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1912-12-21

omce WORK, however, drove the deter
mination out Of his mind.
The instant his car carried him out
Of sight, strange scene was enacted.
The butler and the first man seized
the Major by the arms. and the three
executed a pas-seul. Mrs. Chedsoye
eyed these manifestations Of Joy ston-
lily.
Nov then, what's been done?"
asked the Major, pulling down his
cuffs and shaking the wrinkles from
his sleeves.
"Half done!" cried the butler.
'Fine! What do you do with the
refuse?"
"Cart 1t away in an automobile ev-
cry night. after the gun starts down
the other end of the street."
"Gun?" The Major did not quite
understand.
Gun or bull: that's the arsot for
policeman"
"Thieves' arsot." said Mrs. Ched.
soys CONTEMPORARY.
The butler laughed. He knew Clio.
conda Of old.
where's that wall-safei" the Major
wanted to know.
Behind that sketch by Detaille."
And the butler, strange to say, pro.
nounced It DetI.
"Can you open IT."
"Tried, but failed. Wallace IL the
man for that"
Hell be along In an hour or so,~
where's Ryanne?"
Don't know; don't care" The Ma
jor sketched the predicament OF their
fellow-conspirator.
The butler whistled, but callously.
One moro or less didn't matter In such
an enterprise.
When Wallace arrived he applied
his talent and acquired science to tho
wallsafe. and finally swung outward
the little steel door. The Major
pushed him aside and thrust hand
into the metaled cavity, drawing out
an exquisite Indian casket OF rose
wood and mother-of-pearl. He opened
the lid and dipped a hand within. Em.
eralds, deep and light and shaded, OUT
and uncut and engraved. flawed and
almost perfect. He raised q handful
and let them tinkle back into the
casket. One hundred in all, beauties.
pvery one of them. and many famous.
And while he toyed with them,
pleased as child would have been
over Q handful of marbles, Mrs. Ched-
soye spread out the ancient Yhiordes
In the library. She stood upon the
Nnnfrpv nnfinrn
was not one which she had called into
being; not often did she become ret
rospective; the past to her was al.
ways like page in book, once fin
lshed. turned down. Her elbow in
one palm. her chin in the other, she
stared without seeing. It was this
house, this homo. 1t was each sign of
riches without luxury or ostentation.
where money expressed itself by taste
and simplicity; a home such as she
had always wanted. And why, with
Ill her beauty and intellect. why had
she not como into possession7 She
knew. Love that gives had never
been hers; hers had been the love
that receives. self.love. She had bar.
tered he body once for riches and
had been fooled. and she never could
do It again. And the child
was Overlooking with the love that
gives. She couldn't understand. The
child was the essence Of It: and she,
her mother. had always laughed at
her.
The furry Of snow outside in the
court she saw not. Her fancy re.
formed the pretty garden at Mentone,
Enclosed BY pink-washed walls. Many
. morning from her window she had
watched Fortune among the flowers.
going from one to the other, like q
bee or butterfly. She had watched
her grow. too, with that same detach.
ment q machinist feels as he puts to.
gether the invention Of another man.
Would she ever see her again? Her
shoulders moved ever go little. Prob
ably not. She had blundsred wilfully.
She should have waited, thrown the
two together, Unanswered And she
had permitted this adventure to oh.
sess heri She might have stood with.
in this house By right Of law. mother.
hood. marriage. Ryanne was in love
with Fortune, and Jones by this time
might be. Tho desert was q terribly
lonely place.
She wished It might be Jones. And
Immediately retrospection died away
from her gaze and ac:ualities re-
stunned their functions. Tho wish was
not without phase Of humor, formed
as It was upon this magic carpet: but
It nowiso disturbed. the gravity Of her
expression.
CHAPTER XVIII,