Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-02-02

when he would tell his love to a woman. 1t
wa, moment of dim lights, music perhaps
in the distance, two souls caught up IN the
magic of the moonlight night,-a pretty,
graceful speech from him, a sweet, gracious
surrender from the girl And this-instcad
81 love you!" In Heavens name, was he
never going to stop saying it? Il want you
to believer
Bright morning on the mountain, a girl in
an angry mood at his side, a seedy chaperon
on his trail, an erring cook ahead. Good
Lord, He recalled that a fellow novelist
whose love scenes were regarded as models
by young people suffering the tender passion
had once confessed that he proposed to his
wife on street car, and was accepted just
as the conductor handed him his transfers.
Magee had been scornful. He could never
be scOrnful again. By a tremendous effort
he refrained from repeating his childish
refrain.
The girl deliberately stopped. There was
never less of sweet, gracious surrender IN a
suffragette hurting a stone through a shop
keepers window. She eyed Alagee pityingly,
and they stood until Max caught up with
them.
60 that's the hernit's shack" said Max,
~ indicating the little wooden hut at which
tHCN Ildu dIIlNcu. y lltluiN place III guy
to bury himself. should think he'd get to
d'h6tes with red wine
"A very unrOmantic speech, reprOved the
girl. you should be deeply thrilled at the
thought of penetrating the secrets of the
hermitage. | am. Are you, Mr.. AIagee?'
She smiled up at A1agee, and he was in
that state where he thought that in the blue
depths of her eyes he saw the sunny slopes
of the islands of the blest.
q" he caught himself in time. He
would not be idiot enough to babble again.
He pulled himself together. I'm going to
make you believe in mel he said, with a
touch of his former jauntiness.
Max was knocking with characteristic
1oudness at the hermit's door.
CHAPTER XII A Falsehood Under the Palms
RUILD me a willow cabin at your gate,
- quoted Magee, looking at the hermit S
shack with interest.
"U-m-m,7 replied Miss Norton.
Thus beautiful sentiments frequently fare,
even at the hands of the most beautiful.
Magee abandoned his project of completing
the speech.
The door of the hermit abode opened be-
fore Maxs masterful knock, and the bearded
little man appeared on the threshold. He
was clad in purple dressing gown that sug-
gested some woman had picked it. Surely
no man could have fallen victim to that riot
OF color,
Come in," said the hermit, in tone SO
colorless it called added attention to the
gown. Miss, you have the chair. You'll
have to be contented with that sOapbox
davenport, Gentlemen. Well?S
He stood facing them in the middle of his
hermitage. With curious eyes they examined
its architecture. Exiled hands had built it
of poles and clay and a trustworthy brand
of roofing In the largest room, where they
sat, were chairs, a table, and bookshelf
hammered together from stray boards, =
furniture midway between that in hut on
a desert isle and that of home made happy
from the back pages of woman magazine.
On the wall were various posters that defined
the hermit's taste in art as inhammatory,
bold, arresting. Through one door at the
rear they caught a glimpse of a tiny kitchen;
through another the white covering of a
ballroom cot could be seen.
"Well?" repeated Peters. Il suppose
you're a delegation, so to speak,"
a cold, unfeelng word, objected Magee
1--WE have come to plead began Miss
Norton, turning her eyes at their full candle
power on the herrnit's bearded face