Cut Bank pioneer press. [volume] (Cut Bank, Mont.) 1909-current, 1914-11-06

card.
Herr Rosen." he read aloud. Send
him up. Some friend o. yours, Nora:
Herr Rosen. / told Mr.. Jill to send
him up"
The padre drew his feet under his
cassock, a sign of perturbation; Court
landt continued to unwind the snarl of
lace dropped by the B~arone; the
Barone glanced fiercely at Nora, who
smiled enigmatically.
Herr Rosen! There was no put
ward reason why the name should
have set a chill on them all, turned
them into expectant statues. Yet, all
semblance of good fellowship was In
stantly gone.
Mrs. Harrigan smoothed III the
wrinkles in her dress, From the 9TH
ers there had been little movement
n no sound to speak of. Harrigan
still waited by the door, seriously con-
templating the bit of ~pasteboard in
his hand.
Herr Rosen brushed past Harrigan
unceremoniously. without pausing and
went straight over to Nora, who was
t~hereupon seized by an uncomfortable
spirit of devilment. She hated Herr
Rosen, but she was going to be as
pleasant and as engaging as she knew
now to be. She did not care II he
misinterpreted her mood. She. well
coined him with a hand. He went on
TO Mrs. H~arrigan. who colored pleas
urably. He was then introduced. and
ne acknowledged each introduction
With a careless nod. He was there
to see Nora. and he did not propose
to put himself to any inconvenience
on account of the others.
Herr Rosen instantly usurped the
chalr next to Nora, who began to pour
the tea. He had come up from the
village prepared for q di~sagreeable
naif hour. Instead of being greeted
with icy chances from stormy eyes,
he encountered such smiles as this
adorable creature had never before be-
slowed upon him. He was in the
clouds. That night at C~adenabbia had
apparently knocked the bottom out
or his dream. Women were riddles
which only they themselves could
solve for others. For this one woman
he was perfectly ready to throw every
thing aside. A man lived but once;
and he was a fool who would hold to
tinsel in preference to such happiness
as he thought he saw opening out be-
o him. Nora saw, but she did not
care. That in order to reach another
she was practising infinite cruelty on
this man (whose one fault lay in that
he loved herr did not appeal to her
pity. But her arrow flew wide OF the
target; at least, there appeared no re-
suit to her archery in malice. Not
once had the intended victim looked
over to where she sat. And yet she
knew that he must be watching; he
could not possibly avoid it and be hui
man. And when he finally came for
ward to take his cup, she leaned to-
ward Herr Rosen.
You take two lumps?" she asked
sweetly. 1t was only a chance shot,
but she hit on the truth.
And you remember" excitedly.
One lump for mine. please" said
Courtlandt, smiling.
She picked up a cube of sugar and
dropped it into his cup. She had the
air of n wishing it were poison. The
recipient of this good will, with per-
feet understanding, returned to the
divan, where the padre and Harrigan
we're gravely toasting each other with
b~enedictine.
Nora made no mistake with either
I Abbott's cup or the Baroness; but the
two men we're filled with but one de-
sire, to throw Herr Rosen out of the
window. What had begun as a beau.
tiful day was now becoming black and
uncertain.
The Barone could control every fea-
ture save his eyes, and these openly
admitted deep anger. He recollected
Herr Rosen well enough. The en-
counter over at Cadenabbia was not
the first by many. Herr Rosen! His
presence in this room under that name
was an insult. and he intended to call
the interloper to account the very first
opportunity he found.
Perhaps Celeste. sitting as quiet as
q mouse upon the piano stool, was the
only n who saw these strange cur
rents drifting dangerously about. That
her own heart ached miserably did not
prevent her from observing things
with all her usual keenness. All, Nora,
Nora, who have everything to give
and yet give nothing, why do you play
so heartless a game? Why hurt those
who can no more help lovin o than
the earth can help whirling around the
calm dispassionate sun? Always they
turn to you, while |, who have so much
to give, am given nothing! She set
down her tea cup and began the aria
from La Boheme.
cTo BE coNTINUED.)