The Washington times., 1913-06-23

. WGdhISSS III the "Othi VI ohO Va
his characters. She was liberal with
her praise, called his characters by
their Christian names as though they
were old friends, suggested other
plot, until he felt that he and she. and
those dear puppets Of his own creation,
were denizens together Of some fairy
| and ethereal world, wandering through
the fascinating maze Of imaginative
It was almost an intoxication, this
wonderfully stimulating contact with
| a mind SO receptive, 50 brilliant, so
sympathetic. He forgot his garret,
Cicely. the drear past. the passionate
warnings of Drexley and Rice. As a
weaver Of stories he was in his first
youth. He had peopled but few worlds
with those wonderfully precious GRE
ationh-the children Of the brain. They
Of his own flesh and blood could
| Hitherto they had been the myster-
ious. but delightful companions of his
solitude 1 and,h There wa, Pseul,sa lar psas e;s
realize them. They seemed indeed to
pass. as they two sat there and talked
| Of them, into an actual material ex-
istence. to have taken to themselves
viii. delightful puppets Of his own s.re-
| alton. The color mounted into his
cheeks. and the fire Of hot life flashed
| through his pulses. He drank wine
assn only Of Subtle and
Of full and musical life.
You have given me q wonderful
| idea Of your story" she murmured.
| Nothing has charmed me 80 much for
a long while; Now the the only thing
The style" he repeated. Il don't
think I ever thought Of that"
And yet" she said. you must have
! modified your usual style. Your jour
strong. fuil OF life and color. lurid. BIT
ing, riveting Yet I doubt whether one
could write novel like that"
You can scarcely expect hack
! Journalist" he said. with Z smile. TO
Pater. Yet. of course have taken
pains-and there ,s good deal Of re-
vision to be done" '.
She shook her head softly.
style The swing of good story is
never So good as in the first writing Of
it. All. here IL Mr.. Anderson"
An elderly gentleman was ushered In
to them He carried his hat with him.
and had the appearance Of q man In a
hurry. He greeted Emily with courtesy,
Douglas with interest.
I've looked in for a moment" he
said: carriage waiting at the door-got
to speak at the Institute Of Journalists
this IL Mr.. Jesson. eh?"
Douglas admitted the fact, and the
newcomer eyed him keenly.
will you write me a London letter
Of a thousand words three times week
Certainly, IL you think can send
ed promptly.
1.-The countess answers for It that you
can. I've seen your work in the Cour-
Ter. It's exactly what wish for-pithy.
to the point. crisp and interesting.
Never be beguiled into a long sentence.
abjure politics as much as possible.
and read other London letters that you
You better advice than this"
I'll try" Douglas declared. laughing.
The elderly. gentleman picked up his
hat. declined coffee vigorously. and
liquors scornfully.
months notice either side, and no work
of-the same sort for any other country
paper. I'll be frank with You. I shall
sell the letters out. and make a profit
on 'em. A dozen newspepers'n take
them. Good night. Address here"
He laid down a card and disappeared.
Douglas looked at his companion and
laughed. They sat upon lounge placed
back between the fountain and the
las lit cigarette.
why, I'm a rich man." he exclaimed
II suppose it's all right" Il
"Oh. it's quite genuine" she said. but
you ought to have asked more money.
Mr. Anderson Is very odd. but he's hon.
est and liberal, and a great friend Of
mine"
"Ten pounds seemed such wealth." he
said witty a sudden thought that his
days in garret were over when he
chose.
"It is very little" she repeated II
could have got you more. Still there are
some. other things / have in view for
you"
ashamed that he had ever for mo-
ment listened to Drexley. the Iunatic,
and Rice miserable croaker. He held
out his hand to her.
Il owe you so much" he said: Il
shall never be half grateful enough"
She held his fingers-surely no wom- |
ans hand was even so delicately shaped, |
so soft, so electric His fingers remain |
ed, only now they inclosed hers.
from you" she said. only / should !
like you to remember that have tried |
to do what little could for you"
Still their hands fingered together. |
and Douglas was thrilled through all his |
senses by the touch Of her fingers, and |
the soft. dark fire of her eyes. He held |
his breath for a moment-the splashing |
of the fountain alone broke a silence |
eloquent enough, so fascinating indeed |
that he felt his breath tighten in his |
throat, and a sudden overmastering de-
sire to seize the embrace which some
unspoken instinct seemed to denote
awaited him.
Afterward he always felt that IL no
untoward thing had come then the story
of his after life would surely have been
painted In other colors. But there came
an interruption altogether Unexpected,
marvellous. tragical. Their hands were
still Joined, he had turned slightly |
toward her so that his eyes looked into
hers, they were face to face with one !
OF those psychological crises which,
since the days Of primitiveness, have
made mems destiny and woman's voca-
ton.
Ever afterward thought Of that mo-
ment brought thrilling recollections-l
there was the suspense. the footstep
outside. the crashing Of . pistol shot