The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1913-01-16

please! And do not attempt 70 see
me In this way again"
1 was grateful that Virgins voice
sank SO low in his reply that / did not
hear 1t, but knew that he was plead
ing hard. Then a motor flashed by,
and when the whir of it's passing had
ceased the voices were inaudible. But
a moment later l heard a light, quick
step beyond the wall. and Cecilia pass
ed hurriedly, her face turned toward
the house. The cape was drawn tight
~ about hl4- shoulders. and she walk.
ed with hG1 head bowed.
1 breathed sigh of relief, and when
I felt safe from detection, climbed the
slope.
Pausing on the crest to survey the
landscape, 1 saw a man, wearing a der
by hat and a light topcoat, leaning
against fence that inclosed a pasture.
AS glanced in his direction he moved
away hastily toward the road below.
The feeling of being watched is not
agreeable, and could not account for
him. As he passed out of sight still
another man appeared, emerging from
a strip of woodland farther on. Even
through the evening haze should have
said that he was a gentleman. The
LWO A1cA dppdESHIly DOEG AO ESIdI1OA 10
each other, though they were walking
in the same direction, bound, 1 judged,
for the highway below. L had an I'M
comfortable feeling that they had both
been observing me, though for what
purpose I could not imagine. Then
once more. just as 1 was about to en-
ter the Italian garden from a fallow
field that hung slightly above it, a
third man appeared as mysteriously
as though he had sprung from the
ground, and ran at a sharp dog trot
along the fence, headed, like the 9th
ers, for the road. In the third instance
the stranger undoubtedly took pains to
hide his face, but he, too, was well
dressed and wore a topcoat and a 1e-
dora hat OF current style.
I did not know why these gentlemen
were ranging the neighborhood or what
object they had in view, but their sew
eral appearances had interested me,
and 1 went on into the house well sat
isf1ed that events of an unusual char
acter were likely to mark my visit to
the home of Miss Octavia HOLSTER.
Cecilia sat reading alone when 1 en-
tered the library shortly before. the din
ner hour. She put down her book and
we fell into fitful talk.
"I took a walk after tea. I always
feel that sunsets are best seen from
the fields. You can't quite do. them
justice from windows she began.
She seemed preoccupied. Virgins
was in her recollection OF the glowing
was confident of this, and
poor Virgins was even now wander
ing these hills, no doubt, broodtng upon
his troubles under clear October stars.
Dinner was announced the moment
Miss HOLSTER entered, and 1 walked
out between them. Miss Octavia Hol-
lister was a surprising person, but in
nothing was she SO delightfully."- way
ward as in the gowns she wore. My
ignorance Of such matters is 1mmeas-
urabIe, but 1 fancy that she designed
her own raiment and ha0 her ideas
were thereupon carried ont by a tailor
of skill. At the Asolando, and when we
had met at tea in her own house, she
had worn the severest OF tailored
gowns, with short skirt and a coat
into whose pockets she was fond Of
thrusting her hands. Tonight the ma
terial was lavender silk trimmed in
white, but the skirt had not heightened,
and over a white silk waist she wore
a kind of cuta way cut that matched
the skirt. An aigret in her lovely
white hair contributed a piquant note
to the whole impression. AS we pass
ed down the hall she talked with great
animation of The Hague tribunal, just
then holding a prominent place i'm the
newspapers for some reason that has
escaped me-
THE whole thing is absurd, perfect
~ absurd. know of nothing that
would contribute more to human enjoy
many and England The Hague idea
is pure sentimentalism-if sentimental
ism can ever be said to be pure. 1 will
go further and say that I consider it
positively immoral
She had ordered dinner in the gun
room, but thought this merely a turn
of her humor, and I was taken aback
when she led the way into low, heavi-
ly raftered room, where electric sconces
of an odd type were thrust at irregular
intervals along the walls, which were
otherwise hung with arms OF many
sorts in orderly combinations. They
were not the litter Of antique shops, /
saw in a hasty glance. but rifles and
guns of the latest patterns, and beside
the sideboard stood a gun rack and
cabinet which assumed contained still
other and perhaps deadlier weapons.
But for the presence of Miss Cecilia,
who was essentially typical of our
twentieth century American woman,
think I might readily have yielded to
the illusion that I was the guest of
some eccentric chatelaine who had in
vited me to dine with her in a bastion
of her fortress before ordering me to
some chamber OF horrors for execu-
ton.
No reference was made to the char
acter of the room. I felt, in fact, that
Cecilia rather pleaded with her eyes
that I should make no reference to it.
And Miss HOLSTER remarked quite
casually as though in comment upon
my thoughts:
Consistency has buried it's thou
sands and habit its tens of thousands.