Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-11-10

Hepburn YEARLY. She's forgotten me.
| and if
She hasn't forgotten you" interrupted
Macarthur. If she had-I might don't
iknow-but anyway, she hasn't
IhelT eyes met steadily. Then Hep
burn reached out and took Macarthur $
4 hand.
| I must go to her. Jack Good bye" he
| salc, and hurriedy left the office.
Maearthur waited a moment then
| pulled the desk telephone toward him and
That YOU. Eleanor" his voice was
steady and cheerful. II find 1 can't come
! out tonight, after all. And listen. Some
| thing tremendous has happened. l can I
/ tell you just what. But | want you to
| prepare yourself for anything that may
| come No, | can't explain. But try and
think OF the very best thing that could
! POSSIBLY happen, the thing you want
most, and be ready for it. ! can't tell
| you any moreno. l can't. Goodbye
| He hung up the receiver and his face
was drawn as he settled back in his chair.
| For half an hour he scarcely moved, but
| sat staring at a point the opposite
wall. Then he shivered as though cold,
shook himself. and his jaw set squarely.
| He pushed call button and his stenog-
| rapher entered.
Bring your book. Miss Hunt" he said.
briskly. TN give you some dictation."
1t was evening when Hepburn alighted
| from the train at Chatham Farms. The
| house on the hill-his house-was already
| lit up and he set out for ii in eager haste.
| But as he approa ched his pace slackened
and when he turned in at the gates he
| could hardly bring himself to advance
at all
| He should have sent her word. He
should have prepared her. 1t was cruel
to come thus suddenly from the dead. He
recalled the effect of his appearance upon
Macarthur. II was not right to use a
woman so. He had halted and was scan
ming the lighted interior. Nothing seemed
TO be changed. 1t was the same place.
Homei
Then suddenly he saw her. A door
opened and she entered the library, tall.
graceful, just as he had known her. She
crossed the room and came to one of the
windows, where she stood looking out.
He could not see her face for the LIGHTS
were behind her. but every outline OF her
figure was familiar, every movement he
could anticipate. In a sudden rush of
memories all his doubts were swept aside.
Quickly he approa ched the house and
presently she saw him and drew back a
| little from the window. Almost without
| thought, before he consciously knew what
he did, he halted and whtStied their
| trysting call. 1t was the call he had
used in his counting days to apprise her
| of his presence, and he saw her stop in
| her retreat. Her hands went to her
| breast and she stood staring out the
window.
| He repeated the notes. If she had hest
| tated then, / think he would have turned
away But at the second call he saw her
| turn and run toward the hall, and with a
choking sensation he hurried up the steps
to meet her as she opened the door.
Eleanor" he said, and Arthur! she
! answered him. Arthur Then his arms
were round her and he held her to him.,
close.
| Are you glad?' ne asked presently, not
because he did not know, but because he
wanted to hear her say il.
| She drew back till she could look him
in the eyes Her own were filled with
! tears and her voice trenbled as she spoke.
| "Oh boy" she said, I've wanted you
! so. | never knew until lost YOU
| She chung to him as though fearful ne
might slip away again.
cTHE END)