Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-11-10
THE EVENING STORY.
The Return of Hepburn.


terror his appearance was in most par
;igulars equivalent to a return from the
dead. Certain Of his natives had ap-
peared a year before and narrated with
much detail the circumstances of his
death bv fever. Accordingly his will had
been probated and his estate settled and
Eleanor Hepburn was already laying
aside both the insignia and the attitude
Of mourning.
Every one expected her to wait a
reasonable time and then marry Jack
Macarthur and every one welcomed the
prospect as most felicitous. Macarthur
mad been best man at Hepburns wedding
and had gone away sorrowful. Inc
marriage had not proved a happy one,
and nobody knew this better than Mac
arthur There had been friction from
the first. an unconscious naggIng on her
part and an arbitrariness on his, with
minimum Of forbearance on both sides.
Ii was this lack OF domestic happiness
which had sent Hepburn TO Africa, ana
doubtless was what had kept him there
tor two full years.
In the meantime. Macarthur came INTO
intimate relations with Mrs Hepburn.
NJ her lawyer ne was called upon 10 adj
Use and to execute for her; 1T was ne
who brought the news OF Hepburn
death; and the settlement of the estate
aad been in his hands.
Nothing was more natural, therefore,
han that Mrs. Hepburns friends Shout !
speculate on how much longer she would
Keep Macarthur waiting. Macarthur NM
self had waited a decent six months out
of respect to his friends memory, but
4 when a year had passed he and Mrs.
i Hepburn were seen much together.
, This was the situation hen Hepburn
emerged a Benguela IN Portuguese West
/ Africa. He had gone in trim and clean
he bearded
/ eyes and clad in tatters
He had gone in a rather forfd. full
! blooded man; he retu, ned living shele-
I ton. yellow skinned and gaunt, his cheek
| bones polished like ivory. Yet fever and
| starvation and the all but fatal struggle
against long odds had been the making
| of him. and in place of the rather shall
! low minded notoriety -hunting youth who
had gone, there came PACK one "hoSe
level gray eyes challenged mems re-
spect.
1t was the want of mail awaiting him
that first stirred suspicion in his mind.
Strangely enough, the thought that she
might suppose him dead did not occur 10
him Even in that black hour when the
fever had laid him by the heels and his
men deserted in a body, he himself had
not despaii ed.
The lack of any word when he came in
touch with the world of steamers and q
more or less regular post was therefore q
shock. and all the more disturbing since
his attitude toward her had undergone a
change. In the fever-brightened watches
of the African night he had come to see
himself with clearer vision and to de-
spise the selfishness, the want of consid-
GRAFTON, the bullying, overbearing attitude
which had characterized his relations
with his wife.
He was coming back to make amends,
and he had looked eagerly for the day
when he should receive his first word
from her. The fact that none awaited
him threw a blight upon his triumph. of
what use was it 10 have fought off fever,
conquered starvation and forced reluctant
circumstances TO bend before his Will II
after all she had forgotten him.
He thought the matter over with par
ticularity on the voyage up TO London
discarding theory after theory as made
quate never lighting on the truth. Moth
ing had happened to her. OF that he felt
assured Jack wou! have let him know
One letter might have been lost, but no,
the dozen he had hoped To md, and fe1i
he had right TO expect.
The voyage set him up so far as his
body was concerned. ard he reached Eng
| land still thin and yellow, but with legs
once more beneath him. With his spirits
it was different matter. These refused
| to respond to clean air and good food
| and grateful rest. The blow they re-
/ ceived could be counterdcted by no SO.
phistical imaginings.
The first inkling of the truth came when
/ he found his London letter of credit had
| been Cancelled. There was, OF course, but
/ one explanation OF that. She must think
| him dead. And accepting this hypothesis
| he decided not to cable word Of his com
| ing choosing rather 10 return unherald-
| ed. one rising ON the dead.
/ DELAYING then only to make himself
presentable in the matter of clothes ne
| sailed Immediately for New York. He
/ had TO borrow money for his passage
| and he sWore the friend who lent it &c
| litter secrecy. On the boat he passed as
! II. r. +. Burn, and the passenger list in
| cluded none whom he knew. The second
/ day out, however. gentleman SC apec
| acquaintance with him in the smoking
| room, introducing himself as a MIR Savre
They proved congeniaI and spent con
| siderable time together during the re
mainder of the trip. They were sittin
I OH the deck one morning, smoking ant
| talking, when Sayre made some casus
| mention of his country ace.
/ You say YOU have a place at Chatham
| Farms?'' Hepburn took him up withou
| interest.
Yes returned sayre. Know tbs
place? 1 bought the Judson tract ane
| built there last spring
/ Perhaps, then" said Hepburn, ''yol
know my-you may know Mrs. Hep
| burn
/ Indeed, yes" returned Sayre. DE
| lightful woman You know her, do you
| Sad about her husband, wasn't it?''
| Very" said Hepburn DO you hap
pen to know any Of the PARTICULARS"
/ "Oh, he went exploring across centra
| Africa and died of fever. That's all any
one knows / believe. Guess he didn
amount TO much at best Her friend:
seem to think she is well rid of him.
/ I haven't seen her since them SAID
| Hepburn. after a pause.
They say she is beginning to take no
| tce again said Sayre, in a rather cyni
cal tone. She had some fellow in tow
| asst summer. I've forgotten his name
| Can't blame her. though
/ Hepburn had a sudden, fierce desire tC
| take his sleek informant by the tnroa
! and denounce him a liar. Instead, hi
| made some excuse and took himself of
where he could think without interrup
| ton. In his first abnorrent revolt he
would not entertain the thought even
! q possibility. IT was unbelievable. The
man lied.
| The more he considered the circum-
/ stances, however. the more clear ii be-
| came that this thing was not merely pos
| sible. but altogether natural She was
still young and he had some completely
out Of her life. He had treated her bad
ly while he was with her and now was
| IL to be expected that she could rest con
tent to go through life with his memory
| He was entirely too rational not 10 see
| that lie had expected more than was his
| right and, while he dbsolved her from
all blame, he found il incredibly hard TO
face the truth. and his own course Of
! action in the premises called for queS-
| tioning consideration
| Should he present himself and try to
win back the love he had lost? He
| recognized that it would be an unfair
| proceeding. She could not refuse him if
| he returned TO her. however she might
| feel toward him. He saw that the deci-
| sion must be his; that her part in the
I = ,2.,, r,c.1