The Forrest City times. [volume] (Forrest City, Ark.) 1871-1919, 1913-02-28
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HORACE
HAZElIlNE
CHAPTER I.
The Vanishing Portrait.


sage from her uncle That is the
logical beginning of this story; though
TO make everything quite clear from
the start It may be better to bark
back few months, to the day on
which Evelyn Grayson and first met.
Then, as now, We were each driving
our own car; she. a great sixty horse
power machine. all glistening pale vel
low, and !, compact six-cylinder
racer, of dull dusty gray. But We were
not on any such broad, roomy thor
oughfare as the Boston Post Road On
the contrary We were short-cutting
through narrow. rough lane. beset
by stone walls and interrupted at in
tervals by series of sharp and
treacherous angles
l know l shall never forget the mo-
mentary impression | received. Out
or the golden sunlight, it seemed to
me. there had emerged suddenly a
tableau of Queen Titania on a topaz
throne-the fairest Queen Titania i'm
agitation ever conjured-and I. in my
mad, painting speed was about to
AhtC NiIC SduEJ AdDIlC I'll that
dream creation and rend 1t with
brutal, torturing onrush of relentless,
hard-driven nickel steel | take no
credit to myself for what did. Volt
ton was absent. My hands acted on
an impulse above and beyond all tardy
mental guidance. For just a flashing
instant the gray nose of my car rose
hafnra "a to
mounted half way to the coping of
the roadside wall. felt my seat dart
away from beneath me, was conscious
OF my body in swift, unsupported
aerial flight, and then-but it is idle
10 attempt to set down the conglom-
crate sensations of that small fraction
OF second. When | regained con-
seriousness, Queen Titania was kneel-
ing In the dust of the lane beside me
"a very distressed and anxious Queen
T1tania, with wide, startled eyes. and
qulvertngly sympathetic lips-and
about US were half dozen or more
or the vicinal country folk.
Between that meeting in u1id-Nav
and this meeting on the old Boston
Post Road in mid-September. there
mad been others, of course: for Queen
Iltania, whose everyday name. as |
have said, was Evelyn Grayson. was
the niece and ward Of my nearest
neighbor, Mr.. Robert Cameron, a gem
tleman recently come to reside on
what Tor a century and more had been
known as the old Townsbury Estate,
extending for quite a mile along the
Connecticut shore of Long Island
Sound in the neighborhood of Green
witch.
The intervening four months had
witnessed the gradual growth of as
near an approach to Intimacy between
cameron and myself as was possible
considering the manner Of man that
Cameron was. BY which statement T
mean to imply naught to nv neigh
bor's discredit. He was in all resnects
admirable-a gentleman Of education
and culture, widely Travelled. of exaIt.
ed ideals and noble principles to which
ne gave rigid adherence. Butt waa
ABOUT to qualify this by describing
him as reserved and taciturn. fear
though, to give a wrong Impression
he was scarcely that There were
moments, however. when he was unra.
sponsiye, and he was never demonstra.
tive. He had more poise than anv
man l know. He allowed Won tn soc
Just so much OF him, and no moro A.
unnes ne was almost stubbornly rett.
cent And yet. In spite of these oual.
ties, which appeared to be cultivated
rather than inherent. he gave repeated
evidence Of nature at once so sim.
pie and kindly and sympathetic as IN
command both confidence and a~eo.
ton.
To the progress Of my intimacy
with Evelyn there had been no such
temperamental impeachment. She was
fearlessly outspoken, with a frankness
born of unspoiled innocence: barely
six weeks having elapsed between nor
graduation from the tiny French con-
vent OF Sainte Barbe near Paris and
our perilous encounter in thar con
tracted, treacherous, yet blessed little
connecticut lane. And she possessed.
moreover, multiplicity of addition
al charms, both Of person and dispo-
sition-charms too numerous indeed
to enumerate, and far too sacred to
discuss. From which it may rightly
be inferred that We understood each
other, Evelyn and /, and that we were
already considerably beyond the state
or condition of mere formal acquaint.
anceship.
1t was no Queen Titania who now
came gliding to a stand beside me on
the broad, level, well-oiled highway
under a double row of arching elms II
was no gossamer fairy. but Hebe. the
Goddess Of Youth, with creamy skin
and red lips and lifting melody Of
voice:
What no. Sir Philip, We are well
met"
And then she told me that her Uncle
Robert had telephoned for me Ieav.
ing a message with my man, bidding
me come to him at my earliest leisure