Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-10-05

Markham, for she was used to the visits of
travelling craftsmen along the highway; but
she studied Hernia modish frock with a
critical eye. After the first polite greetings
she fingered nearby, her curiosity getting
the better of her discretion.
Monsieur and Madame are stopping at
the inn?" she asked at last.
I Markham smiled. 1t was the curiosity of
interest rather than intrusiveness. Mon
sieur and Madame had not decided yet.
Was the inn good one?
Very good. Monsieur Duchanel, a cousin
of hers, took great pride in receiving guests
who knew good fare. All the while she was
appraising with a Norman eye the value OF
the feather in Hermia's hat.
ave thought of going on to Boisset,
Markham continued perhaps it is too far
to reach by nightfall"
@Oh, mon Dieni yes, if one is walking-ten
kilometers at the least! Did Monsieur and
Madame desire a carriage?"
mo. Perhaps after all we shall stay here.
This wouldn't do at all. To be taken for
persons who were accustomed to the excel
lencies of French cuisine was not Hermia's
idea of being a vagabond. She had been
studying the face of their hostess, and came
to sudden resolution. Here was the person
who could, if she would, complete her eman-
cipation! Turning to Markham, she said
smoothly in French:
twill you go on to the inn and see if you
can find accommodations? In the meanwhile
l will stay here and talk with Madame"
TAKING the hint, Markham finished his
glass and leaving his knapsack on the
bench went out into the high road in the di
rection mentioned. He walked slowly, his
head bent deeply in thought, realizing for the
or of 1a ovfr III
nary compact he had made with the little
nonconforrnist who had chosen him for a
travelling companion. The more he thought
of the situation the more apparent became
the gravity of his responsibility. Why had
he Welded to her reckless whirn? Only this
morning he had been thanking his lucky
stars that he was well rid of women of the
world for a month at least. And now
shades of Pluto! he had one hanging round
his neck more securely than any milestone!
And this one,-Hermia Challoner, an en-
thusiast without a mission, a feminine abb
nornality, half child, half oracle, wholly
irresponsible, and yet by the same token
wholly and delightfully."- human
But in spite of the charm of her amiabihty
and enthusiasm he felt it his duty to think
of her at this moment as the daughter of
Peter Challoner, the arrogant, hard-hsted
harvester of millions, to think of her as he
had thought of her when she had left his
studio in New York with Olga Tcherny, as
the spoiled and rather impertinent example
of the evils of careless bringing up; but try
as he might he succeeded only in visualizing
the tired and rather unhappy little girl who
wanted to learn show to live"
This hapless wait Of good fortune had
thrown herself upon his protection and had
paid him the highest compliment that a
woman could pay man, faith in him
that was in itself an inspiration. Was she
in earnest and worth teaching, that was
the rub, would weary feet, hunger, thirst,
the chance mishaps of the road, bring recan-
tation and fight to Trouville or to Paris?
He would put her intentions to the test, she
could be pretty sure of that, and if she sur
vived this week under his program of pere-
grination and philosophy there was hope
for her to justify his rather impulsive &C
quiescence.
He found Monsieur Duchanel smoking a
pipe on his doorsill. 1t was no wonder that
he had passed the hosiery by; for, saving
a small sign obscured by the shadows of the
trees, the house. an ancient affair of timber
and plaster, differed little from the others
that faced the street.
Duchanel was a short, round-bellied, dust
colored man, with gray hair and a tuft upon
TT IL. H. L. H.