The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1914-11-05


cherished-took away all the pleasure
she may have experienced during the
first few moments Of interest.
Booth caught the angry fash In her
eyes, preceding the flush and unac.
countable pallor that followed almost
Immediately. He felt guilty, and at
the same time deeply annoyed with
Leslie. Later on he tried to explain,
but the attempt was a lamentable fail.
ure. She laughed, not unkindly, In
his face.
Leslie had refused to allow the
sketch to leave his hand. II she could
have gained possession of It, even for
an instant, the thing would have been
torn to bits. But 1t went back into his
commodious pocKetbook, and she was
too proud to demand 1t of him.
She became oddly sensitive to
Booths persistent though ~inoffensive
scrutiny as time wore on More than
once she had caught him looking at
her with a fxedness that betrayed per-
plexity so plainly that she could not
fail to recognize an underlying motive.
He was vainly striving tc refresh his
memory; that was clear to her. There
Is no installing that look in a persons
eyes. 1t cannot be disguised.
He was as deeply perplexed as ever
When the time came for him to depart
with Leslie. He asked her point blank
on the last evening of his stay II they
had ever met before, and she frankly
confessed to a short memory for faces.
1t was not unlikely, she said, that he
had seen her In London or in Paris,
but she had not the faintest recollec-
ton OF having seen him before their
meeting IN the road.
Urged by Sara, she had reluctantly
consented to sit to him for a portrait
during the month of June. He put the
request IL such terms that 1t did not
sound like a proposition. 1t wac not
surprising that he should want her for
a subject; In fact, he put it in such a
way that she could not but feel that
she would be doing him q great and
enduring favor. She imposed but one
condition: The picture was never to
be exhibited. He met that, with bland
magnanimity, by proffering the canvas
to Mrs. Wrandall, as the subjects
next best friend" to "have and to
hold so long as she might live" free
gratis" with the artists compli-
ments," and 80 on and SO forth, in airy
good humor.
Leslie's aid had been solicited by
both Sara and the painter in the final
effort to overcome the girls objec-
tons. He was rather bored about 1t,
but added his voice to the general
Glamour. With half an eye one could
see that he did not relish the idea Of
Hetty posing for days to the hand
some. agreeable painter. Moreover, 1t
meant that Booth, who could afford to
crafty his own whims, would be
obliged to spend a month or more in
the neighborhood, so that he could de-
vote himself almost entirely to the
contamination of this particular under
taking. Moreover, it meant that Vivi-
ans portrait was to be temporarily
disregarded.
oaAo NAdidaAl was QulCh III IGCOR-
nize the first symptoms of jealousy on
the part of her brother-in-law. The
new idol of the Wrandalls was Ii love,
selfishly. insufferably in love as things
went with all the Wrandalls. They
hated selfishly, and so they loved. Her
husband had been their king. But
their king was dead. long live the
king! Leslie had put on the family
crown-a little jauntily, perhaps
cooked over the eye q bit, so to speak
but 1t was there just the same, an
noyingly plain to view.
Sara had tried to like him. He had
been her friend, the only one she could
claim among them all. And yet, be-
meath his genial allegiance, she could
detect the air OF condensation, the
bland attitude Of a superior who de-
fends another's cause for the reason
that 1t gratiies Nero. She experienced
a thrill of malicious JOY in contemplate
ing the fall OF Nero. He would bring
down his house about his head, and
there would be no Rome to pay the
fiddler.
Brandon Booth took a small cottage
on the upper road, half way between
the village and the home of Sara
Wrandall, and not far from the alb
horred back gate" that swung in the
teeth of her connections by marriage.
He set up his establishment in half a
day and. being settled, betook himself
off to dine with Sara and Hetty. All
his household cares, like the world,
rested snugly On the shoulders of an
Atlas named Pat, than whom there
was no more faithful ~servitor In all
the earth. nor In the heavens. for that
matter, IL we are to accept his own
estimate of himself. In any event, he
was a treasure. Booths house was al
ways In order. Try as he would. he
couldn't get 1t out of order. Pats wife
saw to that.
AS he swung jauntily down the tree
lined road that led to Sara's portals.
Booth was full of the Joy of living.
Sara was at the bottom of the ter
race. moving among the flower beds in
the formal garden.
At the sound of his footsteps on the
gravel. Sara looked up and instantly
smiled her welcome.