Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-03-03

to her father. Col. Harris was obviously
in such acute distress that Louisa Ielt
that. above all things, he must nave the
companionship Of those or his own sex.
The atmosphere of WOman's sorrow Was
essentially bad for him. He was not a
vm,ng man and the last two days had
tried him very severely. Louisa hoped
that If she pretended to go to bed carry
he would perhaps be induced to go to MS
club for an hour.
If he only sat there for an hour, read
ing the papers and nodd1ng 10 ms may
friends. it would take him out OF hlmseii.
Il am very tired, dear" she SAID, aIter
she had seen Edie safely tucked up
among the blankets. Il think | IL IoIioM
Edie's good example It's no use Sittlns
here staring into the fire. Is II, dear.
mot a bit of use, Lou. And suppose
YOU would like to be alOne?
II shan't go to bed. dear, unless you
so to the club. I'll.
VERY we'll, Lou. 1t seems the right
thing to do. doesn't it? You go to pea
you say. it's no use sitting staring ii'.o
the fire"
Her room gave on one side of the sit
ting room, and her fathers on the other.
She waited until Col. Harris Went away
having helped him on with his oVercoat.
After he left she felt little tWlnSe OF re-
morse The night was cold and raw and
he really had not wanted TO so OUT. he
would have been quite wiling 10 slt IN
front of the ire. smoking ana readlns.
He had only gone because his own IN
nate kindness and tact had suggested to
him that Louisa wished to remain alone.
He, too, like Edie. felt little in the
way. His daughters grief was OF ma
ture that fathers love cannot sootne.
The greatest solace for it now would be
solitude So, in spite of the fog, IN spite
Of the unpleasantness that met Col. Har-
ris on every page of every newspaper. ne
sailed out of the hotel and got into a
hanson. with the ayowed intention OF
spending a couple Of hours at his club.
Louisa, left alone in the sitting room, in
front of the CHEEKY fire. sat down for a
moment on the sofa and rested her head
against the cushions. There was memory
even in that. for when she closed ner
eyes she could imagine that Luke was
sitting at the foot of the sofa: she could
see him almost, with his eyes turned
ever toward her, and that quaint gesture
of his when he passed his hand over the
back Of his neatly groomed head.
The memory was intolerable now. she
rose-restless and feverish-and stood by
the fire, one hand on the high mantel-
shelf, her forehead resting against that
hand, one foot on the fender and her ach-
ing eyes gazing into the red-hot glow.
IT was one of those big red fires partly
made up of coke and partly or coal.
wherein only here and there tiny blue
flames fit waywardiy. and In the building
up of which hotel servants are usually
past masters. The glowing coal, heaped
up high in the old-fash1oned crate, pre-
sented a wonderful picture of mysterious
architecture-streets and lanes or crimson
incandescence. palaces and towers of
molten heat, and the little blue flames
dancing and peeping out from the fiery
depths. hooking 1and hayward, twirling
and twisting as With the joy of life.
Louisa gaZed into this city of brilliant
crimson and gold, the streets. the palaces
and the towers. And as she gazed-with
eyes almost seared-these same streets OF