Evening star., 1912-11-17

wardrobes and waiting valet in each. On
the other hand, his accessories might consist
of steamer trunk in some hall bedroom.
"Where will you stay in New York;" she
went on.
He was unable to remember the name OF
any New York hotel. "Oh, | haven't de
cided yet, he said. "I'll just drop into some
old haunt
THAT night he took the train to Paris, and
in the morning stepped off into a city
at first entirely unfamiliar to him. He
checked the handbag he had brought and
took a cab to the Latin Quarter. He felt
sure that he must have once known Paris,
and, that being SO, that he must have loved
the Latin Quarter. Montparnasse, Raspail,
the cafes, the printshops. the quays, they
were all strange to him. He had his luncheon
in a cafe full OF groups of friends, or inter
ested couples, and he was very lonely. In
the afternoon he sat in the Luxembourg Gar
dens, fighting off depression. He had never
before known a sad mood to last so long.
It was twilight before he began to think
of dinner He dined in a restaurant off the
Avenue de lOpera, and after he had taken
his demltasse and was sitting at one of the
little tables on the street, watching the world
go by, the whole scene swung into place. He
did not yet know who he was; but he knew
Paris again. He could shut his eyes and see
old Bour Mich; he knew the look of the
the Champs Elysees-and if Paris had come
back New York would come back, and he
himself would come backl Lighthearted
once more, he went to the theater.
ON Saturday he was really glad to see Mrs.
~ Beldon, standing among the crowd that
watched the last arrivals, from the upper
deck of the steamship. He joined the colony
beseeching the deck steward, and had their
chairs put side by side. His success in recov-
ering Paris had made him confident that he
could meet successfully any exigencies that
might arise on board ship. He almost looked
forward to the six or seven days of lazy COM
panionship on the sea.
They were even pleasanter than he had
anticipated. Mrs Beldon asked no difficult
questions, and seemed to be taking him on
more casual terms than she had. That
suited him precisely. He liked her immense
ly; but until he was really sure he was Jimmy
Sylvester, or until he found his real identity,
he wanted his human relations to be very
tentative.
After they had passed Sandy Hook he
SSclliet W ltCl MIS- DCItOIl grasp llSlllell-
ing upon him. She reminded him of his
promise to call, and said she relied on him
to help her through the customs, and that
he must certainly meet her aunt and her
Frances Helen. He was very little con-
cerned with what she said; for he was too
much interested in his discovery that he
seemed to remember what the approach to
New York was like. He felt as if this was
only. one of many homecomings he had
made. When he saw the Statue of Liberty
he could have wept with pleasure. Not one
of the excitable Russian Jews on the steerage
deck, on their knees, with their arms out
stretched to this symbol of hope, was any
more moved than he; for he remembered
her, he knew that noble poise of her head,
that magnificent reach with the torch. He
felt as if she were welcoming him too, as if
she were promising him that some day be-
fore long he should come back to himself.
There was no one on that ship, he knew, who
needed a welcome more than he did.
To be continued next Sunday
TxJD DnuEp oH WAITED