Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-06-08
Continued from page 4
"For me-" echoed the girl. "Why, it was


that smoke ring went across the room and
round the corner and up into your faceo |
tried for half an hour after you went out to
send another that way, and l couldn't.
And why do you suppose | wasn't at the
inn at seven o'clock tonight in time for tea?
Why did | take the wrong turnlngs and get
lost and loiter just enough to bring me down
into the grove just the minute when you-
needed me?'
CHE didn't try to answer. The half jest
- ing reply she might have made wouldn't
come to her tongue And she dared not
trust herself to say anything else. Some
thing was happening to her that had never
happened before.
It was no new thing in her experience to
have men try to make love to her. Some
thing besides the mere prettiness that was
undoubtedly hers had made her, since she
was sixteen or whereabouts, unusually at
tractive to men. And her life of travel with
a semi-invalid father, frequentlng the haunts
of the luxuriously idle over pretty much the
whole of Europe and America, had afforded
plenty of opportunities.
Nor had her father taken any of the obvi-
Gus precautions to shield her He had al
ways allowed her startling amount of lib
erty, had even encouraged her to take it.
The defense he had provided her with was
of a better sort He had trained her in self
reliance, and in the knowledge of mankind,
and in some strange ways besides.
So that when she saw a certain look IN
mems eyes, or heard certain quality in
their voices, she knew what they meant, and
checked the proceedings with an instructive
disrelish.
But this young fellow, whose name she
hadn't heard yet, whom she had set eyes
upon for the first time that very morning,
who looked hardly any older than herself
and she had not completed her twenty-lrst
vear,-why, he seemed already like an old
friend No, that wasn't true,-not like an
old friend at all: like very exciting sort OF
new friend. 1t brought strange new sort
of glow all over her to think that he should
have been frightened for her when she chal-
lenged the white rabbit to bring her any i'll
luck that was in its power to bring. And
there was a breathless tightening of her
throat over the Interpretation he had put
on the chance that had brought them to-
gether that evening when she needed" HIM.
So she said nothing, and the silence be-
tween them, as they sat there side by side
on the low stone rail that guarded the ap-
proach to the bridge, grew longer and more
tense, vibrating to a music that was new to
both of them.
A T last there came tapping, and then
"A strong surge of water under the bridge.
That's the tide" he said. ats coming
in again"
Every time I've heard that she told
him, "the regular break of those big waves,
it has seemed like something | have remem-
bered from long ago. Or not quite that:
rather as if it were trying to recall something
that had been long time forgotten
did you live near the sea when you were
a child?" he asked "That might be it.
Il don't believe | lived anywhere when
was child" she answered a little wistfully.
dts always been like this, travelling as we
are now, ever since | can remember
She made move to rise, and he sprang
to his feet, offering a hand to help. She
could have risen almost as quickly and
lightly as he: but for some capricious reason
she let him help her.
"It's getting late, | suppose" she said.
I'D better be getting back to the inn.
He didn't urge her to stay; but they lin
gered for all that, leaning over the rail side
by side, watching the swift, terrible swirl of
the water as it came up from the sea. Then
they crossed the bridge and set out through
the town.
A T the top of the first hill, where two lanes
a converged into the highroad, they both