Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1913-01-16
lingering wistrulness as he looked into

II
You don't know how rich you are.
jim" he said feebly. with this hand
that grips like iron. I'd give millions
to feel my heart beat like yours today"
you'll get better down here" Stuart
answered cheerfully.
I'm trying it anyhow" he said list
lessly. MAKE yourself at home, old
boy. This house is my pride. 1 want
Nan to show you every nook and cor
ner in it. l wish l could trot around
with you, but l can't"
"As soon as you've changed your
clothes" Nan said Familiarity. "come
down to the library and I'll show you
around"
Stuart followed the man assigned as
his valet to the electric elevator and
In a minute stepped out on the fourth
floor. He observed with a smile that
his room number was 1877.
1.-THE idea of living in a huge hotel
and calling it Il home!." he unused. with
grim humor. Room 157-great Scott"
His hostess showed him first the
library. The magnificent o contained
more than 10000 volumes. bound In
hand fooled morocco.
1.-The funny thing. Of course" Nan
whispered, lis that Cal has never read
one Of these exquisitely bound books"
why on earth did he make this
room the most stately and beautiful
one in the house?
Maybe he didn't!!" she laughed. Pm
going to give you a privilege no mere
man has ever enjoyed in this house
before-I am going to show you my
own rooms"
When the tour Of inspection had been
completed she led him to her own suit.
which was located in the southwestern
corner, overlooking the magnificent
formal gardens with their artificial
lake, fountains, statuary and a wilder
ness of flowers. and farther on over
the beautiful valleys of the Savanna
noa and the French Broad rivers. Be-
yond the river valleys rose range after
range of mountains.
The magni6cence Of her bedroom
was stunning. Stuart rubbed his eyes
in amazement. She had taken herself
seriously in the creation Of this room,
and had spent a round million on it's
ivory bedstead. its purple and gold
velvet hangings. its wonderful carv-
ings.
The picture she made standing in
this wonderful room was one that
never faded from his memory. The
.poise of her superb form; the fires
that smouldered in the depths Of her
eyes; the tenderness with which her
senses seemed to drink in the daring
luxury; the smile that played about
her lips. joyous, sensuous, cruel:
"It seems all a dream, Man," he said.
"1ll rub my eyes and wake up direct
ly. thought your New York house a
miracle. This is %fairyland."
perhaps. it would be-" she said,
closed eyes. "if only the prince
A look Of pain unconsciously clouded
his face, and the sentence was not
finished.
On the fourth day Nan planned a
coaching party to ascend Mount
Mitchell, the highest peak in the land
Of the sky, the highest point Of ground
| that side the Rockies. She had taken
this trip with Stuart sixteen years be-
fore. She was then but fifteen. and
he had just begun to dangle at her
heels. She did not tell him their des.
tination.
The party consisted of half a dozen
boys and girls whom Nan was chap
eroning. Stuart. the footman and
coachman. The start was made at
sunrise. The morning was glorious,
the air rich with the full breath Of a
southern spring.
At the foot Of the first hill the
coach suddenly stopped beside the
banks of the Swannanoa river.
Nan leaped to the ground, drew
Stuart with her to the e a Of the
coach. and raised her rms.
Lift me up" she cried, laughing.
He placed his hands under her arms
and with a leap and a cry Of laughter
she was in the empty baggage rack.
Nov up with you" she cried.
In a moment Stuart was seated snug
ly by her side and the big red coach
was rolling along the old road.
snow, sir" Nan whispered. do you
know where you are going"
Stuart nodded.
"To a certain peak among the clouds,
where you and l once went a thousand
years ago."
Nan nestled a little closer, or perhaps
it was the swaying Of the coach that
made him think she did, and softly
said:
"You remember this road?"
i've seer it a hundred times in my
dreams since that wonderful day. 1t
winds along the banks Of the Swan
nanoa for twenty miles, always climb
ing higher and higher until the river
becomes a limpid trout stream. We
stop at the old roadhouse, stay all
night and next morning take the bride