The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1913-04-27

| hot lead into her heart. MAX Butler!
Max Butler! The little nephew he told
me about. And he has been alive all
these years, and happy. with little sons.
while IL have lied to these trusting
girls. 1t was wicked and shameless. I
deceived myself; then I deceived them.
wonder why I knew what they were
thinking. How dared I look that honest
| child In the face! I suppose she WON
ders. like the rest. why I have not told
any one Of my romance. And 1t is SIM
ply that there was nothing to tell
nothing" She looked into the soldiers
happy eyes while her lips curled and
she murmured. dearly and bitterly: Il
| haven't even the. right to be angry with
you, poor lad. What did you do? You
are not my Max; / only made him up
| out of my heart-like children playing
camel"
Her mind drifted dizzily through shape
less and inconsequent visions of the past.
She was seeing again the grim pile OF
the ruined castle, the masses Of broken
shadow, the intricate carving on arch and
larchitrave and plinth, the wavering mass
of limbs and tree trunks on the green
sward, and she, with her twisted ankle,
was kneeling, trying to peer through the
shrubbery for her lost companions. DID
he come by chance? She had seen the
handsome young officer daily for a week.
His great aunt was Margaret's -ight-hand
neighbor at the pension table dhote, a
withered relic of Polish nobility with fine,
black eyes In a face like hickory nut;
who wore shabby gowns and magnificent
Jewels, frankly smoked cigarettes, and
seemed TO have venomous tale ready
to fit any name mentioned In converse
tiop-with one exception, her nephew's.
According to her, Max's father was
swine and his mother a. fool and his
brother a popinjay, and his sister had
no respect for her bettersi but Max had
heart It was understood at the pen
sion that she was arranging a great
match for him. In spite of the general
disapproval of his aunt. he was IA
vorte, he was so simple, amiable. and
polite Even the American professor
admitted that for a man who had won
the iron cross in such spectacular
fashion, he was very modest and really
more like an American than German
officer" thus paying the unconseiously
arrogant compliment kept by every race
for engagin aliens. Margarets hrst
sight of him was not under the shelter
of conyentionalities. 1t happened that
the countess ferocious pet land the ter
ror of the pension). a Great Dane, was
irving to eat up n little girl, but for
tunately had begun with her petticoats.
The court of the house was the scene OF
the fray; a large, tlmid cook, the only
witness, was waving copper Kettle fuli
of the meringue that she was beating.
in one hand. and the great wire whip
In the other, while she shrieked I'M
partially on heaven and the police. Mar
garet heard the din. She ran to the
spot.
Being a New England woman, she
didn't scream: one swift glance went
from the chilG's writing body and the
dogs horrible head to the wailing COOK.
In two strides she caught the kettle out
of fat and agitated German hand ana
hurled the whole sticky, white mass full
at the dogs eyes; then, as the blinded
and astounded beast flung his head back
to howl. and spattered, the world with
meringue she snatched up the child and
sent her flying into the door and the
cook. The dog was smeared with me-
ringue, she was smeared. the child was
smeared, the cook was smeared: and
now a beautiful white and gold officer. |
who bounded over the wall and fell
upon the dog with his saber and two
heels, was smeared most lavishly or
all, No wonder Frau Muller Visible |
aloft in an artless German toilet or
ease and without her teeth, the count |
ess (who was a gazing stock, for the
same reason), and Augustine, her maid, |
the three Russians on the second floor, |
and the three Americans on the third. |
filled the windows with polyglot con- |
sternation, The consequence of il all /
was that when the Count Won Butler |
was formally presented to Miss Wing
that evening she blushed. She was too
pale and lstless to be pretty. but when
she blushed she was enchanting. Re-
the meringue, she smiled and
ventured an upward glance; and for
the first time in her life, met the ad-
in the eyes of a man. At this
time Margaret was thirty years old,
and had never been asked in marriage.
She had spent most Of the thirty years