The Washington times., 1913-06-18
CHAPTER XVIII.
~ r Il 49,

~ OUGr.AS was kept waiting for a
mil ute or two in the long. cool
drawing-room at Grosvenor
square. The effect of Rice's story
was still strong upon nirn The perfume
Of the flowers. the elegance OF the
room, and its peculiar atmosphere of
taste and luxury trritated rather than
soothed him. Even the Difference which
the servants had shown him, the apollo
getic butler. her ladyship's own maid
with special message, acquired new
significance now, looking at Things from
There was SO much in his circum-
stances which had lent weight to what
he had been told. He was earning a
ing more Emily had insisted upon
rooms of her own choos-ng in fashion
able neighborhood, and had herself Sc
lected the furniture-whichw was not yet
paid for. She had insisted gently but
firmly upon his going TO the best tallors.
The little expeditions in which he had
been permitted TO act as her escort, the
luncheons and dinners at restaurants.
although they were not many, were ex-
pensive. Yes, Rice was right To be
near Emily de Reuss was to live within
a maze of fascination, but the end to it
could only be the end Of the others.
Already he was in debt. trifie De-
hind with his work-a trifie less keen
about il. Already the memory OF his
sIfferings seemed to lie far back in an
other world-his realization Of them had
grown faint There was something par
alyzing about the atmosphere OF pleas
ure with which she knew 50 Wen now 10
surround herself.
The door opened and she came in, a
dream of harmonious colors- she came
over to him with outstretched hands
and a brilliant smile upon her lips.
How is 1t, my friend, she cried,
that you always come exactly when l
want you? You must be very clever
person / have TO go for minute or
two TO the stupidest of garden parties
at Surbiton. You shall drive with me.
and afterward, IL you like, we will come
back by Richmond and dine. What do
you say?"
"Delightful," he answered. land if l
were an idle man. nothing in the world
would give me more pleasure But this
afternoon 1 must not think of II. / am
behind with my work already. / only
came round for few minutes talk
with you"
She looked at him curiously. She was
not used to be denied.
Surely" she said. your work is not
so important as all that?
Il am afraid" he said, that lately ]
have been forgetting how important my
work really is. That is precisely what !
came to talk to you about"
She sat down composedly, but he
fancied that her long, dark eyes had
narrowed a little. and the smile had
gone from her face.
"Well?"
You will think I am ungrateful, am
afraid" he began. but. do you know.
j am losing hold upon my work. and !
have come to the conclusion that am
giving good deal too much Of my time
TO going out Thanks TO you. j seem TO
have Invitations for almost every day
/ go TO polo matches, to river parties.
10 dinners. and dances: ] do every
thing except work. You know that |
made q fair start and ] feel that
] ough. to be making some use OF nv
opportunities. Besides-I NAV be quite
frank with you, i know-I am spending
a great deal more than l am earning.
and that won't do, will IL?
She came over and sat down by his
side on the couch. There was not the
.Do you know, that sounds very sensI- |
BILE Douglas. my friend" she said, quiet |
ly. Il should hate 10 think that ] was
selfish in liking TO have you with me so
much, and your work is the first thing, |
of course. Only you mustn't forget this. |
Your profession is settled now irrevoc- |
ably. You will be writer, and a /
famous writer, and one reason why 1
have procured all these invitations for |
you. and encouraged you to accept them. |
has been because l want you to grasp |
life as q whole.
You think that you are idling now.
You are not Every new experience you
have only seen life through dim-coiored
spectacles. j want you also 70 under
stand the other side. Ii Is your business
to know and grasp IL from all points.
Can't you see that have found IL a
pleasure to help you to see that side Of
which you were ignorantT
That Is all very true" he answered,