Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-10-23
Cleveland Moffett and Oliver Herford.
CHAPTER IV.-Continued.

CHAPTER IV.-Continued.
II give We my promise said Baxter
and he held out his big hand. which she
first patted affectionately and then hug
ged in her warm, white palms.
"And you?" Betty turned to Eleanor
please! Perhaps We'll only keep it up
for a few days?"
what teasew laughed Eleanor.
Every we'll, Miss Thompson, I give my
promise"
And so it was arranged.
1t was half-past 4 when they reached
the little station. where guests for Up
ping House left the train. Betty's heart
beat with excitement and surprise as a
splendid-looking young fellow. tall and
broad shouldered, came forward to meet
them.
Bob" Mother" "Dea" came the
quick. happy cries. and then. after an
was presented to Betty.
bob, 1 want We to know my new Sec
rotary. Miss Thompson" said Hiram. in
a matter-of-fact tone.
Miss Thompson!"
''Mr. Baxter!
Their eyes met and that first quick
scrutiny brought an impression, a swift
sensation that neither ever forgot.
After seeing the ladies comfortably dis
posed in the tonneau, Hiram climbed
into the front seat beside his son, and
the car, after a preliminary fit Of mon
strous ague. leaped forward with a
dragonlike snort and swiftly rounded the
grass-bordered flower bed where the am
bilious station master had spelled the
name of Ippingford in sprawling and al
most illegible nasturtiums.
A blur of whitish gray varied with
deep green and momentary splashes of
every possible rose color was all Betty
saw Of the village street. For fraction
fantastic image of cat on a swinging
sigma blue cat-with golden feet, or were
they golden boots? Before her mind had
pieced the picture together the little tav-
ern was left far behind. Now they were
gliding swiftly and silently, save for the
simmering Of the motor, through a SHIN
mering twilight of moss-grown beeches
and UNCOVERED oaks. where high haw-
thorn hedges Swallowed miniature jungles
Of interlacing leaves and ferns and mes
ting flowers. Like a blue-green tapestry
1t shut them in on either side. Only as
the car slowed for an instant when
rounding a corner could one make out a
detail of harebell, foxglove, wild rose or
of rambling English lane. and her mind
flew back to the stolfd French country
roads lined with staid, orderly poplars.
This is mad. quite mad, by COMPARE
son. she said to herself. but exquisite
Baxter, as she leaned back: How coy
they are. these English lanes!"
Now they were speeding down mar
row green alley. where the hawthorn
hedges met overhead and the sound was
Mrs. Baxter did not hear, but she nodded
and smiled to save Betty from the neces-
sity of shouting.
Betty sat directly behind Mr.. Baxter
at the other side of the car from Bob.
and though she could study him unob-
served, she had. after the first shock of
meeting, avoided looking at him. She
had wanted to be alone - quite, quite
alone. She wanted to think it all over,
to reconstruct herself as it were, to ad-
expected edition Of her old playmate. So
she had welcomed the distraction of this
Intoxicating beauty that swan past her
in the golden midsummer haze.
If it did not leave her to herself. at
least it took her away from this Bob.
this disturbing giant. with his broad
shoulders bent forward easily In the bust
ness of steering, and who now, at last,
held her eyes and would not let them go.
Not even the wild roses could drag her
glance away, and they continued their
mad backward race with the foxgloves
and ferns and harebells and honeysuckle
all unobserved by Miss Betty Thomp-
son.
AND presently Sne IOunO HcTSeiI WALL
ing for the moment when he would turn
again to speak to his father. when she
would once more See his profile. Some
thing Hiram Baxter had just said caused
Bob to laugh as he turned his head, and
Betty laughed aloud for sheer sympathy.
A moment before Bob had been frown-
ing, and, with the heavy Baxter eye
brows and pugnacious jaw, unrelieved by
the regularly modelled features of his
handsome father. Bob's face in repose
only just missed being plain, just missed
it, Betty thought, by that miss that is as
good as a mile. And now when he laugh
ed every feature, every line Of his honest
face seemed to collaborate in the express
sion of irresistible mirth
They were turning in at the park gate
of Ipping House. For a moment the car
came to a standstill, chuttering impa-
tiently while a small, apple-faced child.
a little girl with reddish hair and Won
dering eyes, who had watched their ap-
proach from the steps Of the lodge.
swung the iron gate slowly open.
AS the car lunged forward again Betty
gave a backward look along the shaded
roadway. The figure of young woman
in scarlet cloak, slim. dark, foreign
looking. a gypsy perhaps. was standing
in the shadow at a turn Of the road
watching them intently. The next in
slant she had disappeared among the
trees. 1t happened SO quickly that. as
the iron gate changed behind them, the
scarlet of the girls cloak was all that
Bettys mind retained Of the instantane-
Gus picture 1t was a peculiar shade of
scarlet. Where had she seen it before?