Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-01-28

1T is a promise, MdQa1rle.
She regarded me doubtfully. ayes, you
promise me, dear Mademoiselle; but young
girls are capricous- though Victor is
the most perfectly stunning and corking fell
low in his whole set, and such winner with
the girls as never was seen-still, who can
tell but when I've taken all possible pains
and presented YOU and announced the en-
gagement and all, that perhaps at the last
minute you'll find someone you think you
like better and go back on me, and there will
be Victor and me looking as foolish as two
cats on fence!s
To this flood of eloquence made no re-
ply. | walked to the window OF the cabin
and looked out at the city, which now APP
peared near enough for me to touch it with
my hand, the city, the iron city where, be-
side the shadow of a memory older than my
self, there waited for me not one single
friend-unless, like Faust in the opera, |
pledged myself body and soul to such friend
ship as was now offered me. After all, why
should | hesitate to give it. the pledge she
askedo In the position where had put my
self, what choice was left to me?
Madame l said, "in nearly thousand
years, for SO long as we possess any records
Of my family, not one of my race has broken
his word. Do you know the motto on our
armso 'Vduquieres trent parole! Where |
give my word, Madame, keep it, if have
to go to the guillotine like my great-grand
father!'
This was awkward Mrs Cobb became
Immediately quite offended at hearing her
darling boy compared to the Widow Gull
lotine. So | had to apologize, and she for
gave me, and then we cried little, and
shook hands on our bargain, and finally
actually kissed each other, like Aunt Eliza
beth and one of her darling girls when there's
an eligible young man in the vicinity.
THE rest of the day was a whirl of report
ers, of customs house inspectors, of
shrill voiced and very chic ladies who well
coined Mrs. Cobb at the dock. Victor was
not there something to be thankful for,
told myself.) Then the whirl across a dingy
changing city to the dingiest-ah mon Dien!
the saddest and shabbiest little den of
house that was ever seen outside of the
Latin Quarter. There were names in shabby
gilt signs-strange names like German Jews
all up and down the front of the house,
with advertisements of Cheap Stylish Tailor
ing for Ladies and Furs Made Over Then
beside the front door was a row of furnished
bellpulls, and dirty child with tin pail in
his hand trying to reach up to pull one of
them. A frowzy woman, all red like fish
woman at the Halles, stared down from an
upper WINDOW as the limousine halted and
the man held the door open for me to de
scend.
"What! Then we're at home!" l cried
with sinking heart.
"A1y home! No, dear child. This is the
address of your friend that you are going to
visit. Tell Ludovic the name, and he will
make inquiries.
In five minutes, however, the scornful
Ludovic returned with the news that the
house contained not soul that had lived
there more than eight months and all
tenement workers at that!
All, Harriet! | had come too late! Over
that dingy, desecrated threshold had passed
for the last time the feet that my papa had
loved, and which to the last had wandered
through his dreams. Who could tell where
they walked now, whether on earth or only
in my dreams, those beloved feet? | think
| cried a little as leaned back in my corner
of the limousine and thought of all had
hoped to hear from Harriet about Papa and
what he was like when he was young.
Mrs. Cobb, | must confess, was extremely
gentle Neither in word nor in glance did
she tell me what an imbecile | was. From
her eyes, however, shone her triumph.
A ND at the telegraph office, on the way