The Socialist press., 1915-09-18
l10RCHA COo>1ICI7Z L22. 4 C IzTCZM7c & co,


 to my way of thinking. Neither of
 us mentioned the subject, but 1t must
 have recurred to him, at intervals. as
 it did to me. And as the hours went by without sign, the conviction
 grew that Murphy. with hands tied,
 was fretting over the coup he was de
 tered from composing. Mrs. Lancaster, whom I have men, toned merely as Cameron's house.
 keeper, but who was. in addition,
 distant kinswoman and acted as
 sort of duenna to Evelyn, dined with | us that evening, and our little partie | carree seemed to me more than us-
 ually merry, owing doubtless to the | relaxation of the strain which both Cameron and l had been under for the past week.
 It gratif1ed me to see my host so i unfeignedly cheerful. remember how he laughed over Mrs. Lancaster's 1 recital of an incident of the morning. q had no idea," she said, "that An drew" referring to the kennel master,
 was married. He astonished me
 when he told me he had a wife and three children. And when l told him
 he did not look like married man
 he seemed rather pleased than other | wise.''
 Tt Is odd" Cameron returned. but
 1t seems always to fiatter husband | to tell him he doesn't look It." And
 then he laughed as though he had no care on earth.
 After dinner We had the usual
 music. and Evelyn sang again that lyric of Baudelaire's. this time in the | original French. But the melody | brought back to me in vivid vision
 our chance meeting in the woods and all its train of circumstances. When I had finished applauding, | Cameron turned to me. Do you like Baudelaire?" T like his art" I answered, "and
 his frank artificiality." He appeals to me-" Cameron con- fessed, "decadent though he is.
 have read everything he ever wrote, think, prose and verse. Did you ever see my copy of his 'Fleurs du Nal?
 The casket Is worthy of its contents. | It Is the most exquisitely bound little | volume I ever saw. Come, I'll show | it to you"
 l. I excused myself to Mrs. Lancaster,
 and with pretended formality bent over Evelyn's hand, brushing 1t with
 my lips.
 Wont you be back?" she whis- | pered.
 q hope so." was my answer. But
 can't promise"
 "Oh, what a trial 1t Is to have
 selfish uncle!" she murmured as l went.
 Cameron led me through the H. brary, across the hall, and thence in- to his study, where he dove into
 miniature book rack reserved for his | favorites. After a moment of fruitless search he said:
 "It isn't here. How stupid! I took | it upstairs week ago, I remember.
 It is in my dressing room. Do you
 mind coming up?"
 Did I mind coming up? How glad was to see him interested! He was more like the old Cameron than he had been at any time in the past sev
 en days. My golf prescription had proved even more efficacious than
 had dared hope.
 At the risk of being tedious must describe Cameron's dressing | room. It was not large-probably 20 feet square--with three doors; one on each of the three sides. That which admitted from the passageway faced that which opened into the bath room On the left, the third door connected | with Cameron's bedchamber. On the right were two windows, giving upon | an outside balcony. Between them | was fireplace.
 To the left of the bath room door | was the entrance to a huge closet. guarded by a heavy curtain of old
 rose velvet. To the right, was sta | tionary wash-stand, and above 1t a
 rectangular mirror, probably ten inch es wide and a foot long. and very | curiously framed. Across from this, | against the wall which divided the room from the passage, was an enor- nous chiffonier, or chest of drawers. | In the rooms center was a round
 table. on which rested reading lamp. Between the table and the fireplace was a reclining chair. 9th
 CT chairs, three or four, were various
 ly placed.
 I have given these facts because they are necessary to an intelligent | Idorstondino of what am ahout to