The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1915-08-05

you not coming, tco?"
He had stopped. Not just now,
Lyddy. | think I'll III up to Toms
fiat and smoke a pipe with him.
Thanks, old girl, for the happy day
we've had. You don't mind IL leave
you here?"
Her heart gave a great throb OF
relief. 1t was best to have him out OF
the way for the time being.
"Well-so long," he said, efficiently.
so long, Lyddy."
so long" she repeated, dropping
into his manner of speech without
thinking. There was a s%mothering
sensation in his breast.
He looked back as he strobe off in
come. She was at the top of the steps,
her fingers on the electric button. He
wondered why her face was so white.
He had always thought of it al being
full of color, rich, soft and warm.
Inside the door, Lydia experienced
a strange sinking of the heart. rs
Mr.. Brood at" she began; ~nervously.
A voice at the top of the stairway in
terrupted the question she was putting
to the footman.
as it you, Lydia? Come up to my
room"
The girl looked up and saw Mrs.
Brood leaning owe the banister rail.
She was holding her pink dressing
gown closely about her throat, as if
it had been hastily thrown about her
shoulders. One bare arm was visible
completely so.
81 came to see Mr.. Brood. is he"
"He is busy. Come up to my room,"
repeated Yvonne, somewhat imperi-
ously.
As Lydia mounted the stairs she
had a fair glimpse of the others face.
Always pallid-but of a healthy pal
lor-it was now almost CHASTITY. Per-
haps is was the light from the window
that caused il, Lydia was not sure,
but a queer, greenish hue overspread
the lovely, smiling face. The lips were
red, very red-redder than she had
ever seen them. The girl suddenly re-
called the face she had one seen OF
a I'M who was addicted to the
drug habit.
Mrs. Brood met her at the top of
the stairs. She was but haIf-dressed.
Her lovely neck and shoulders were
now almost bare. Her hands were
extended toward the visitor; the
flmy lace gown hung loose and disre-
garded about her slim figure.
Come in, dear. Shall we have tea?
| have been so lonely. One cannot
read the books they print nowadays.
Such stupid things, ai-e?"
She threw an arm about the tall
girl and Lydia was surprised to find
that it was warm and full of a gentle
strength. She felt her flesh tingle
with the thrill of contact. Yes, it
must have been the light from the
window, for Yvonne's face was now
aglow with the iridescence that was
so peculiarly her own.
A door closed softly on the floor
above them. Mrs. Brood glanced over
her shoulder and upward. Her arm
frightened perceptibly about Lydia's
waist.
1T was Ranjab," said the girl, anc
instantly was filled with amazement.
She had not seen the Hindu, had not
she was impelled by some mysterious
intelligence to give utterance to a
statement in which there was convic-
ton, not conjecture.
did you see him." asked the other,
looking at her sharply.
NO." admitted Lydia, still amazed.
Il don't know why I said that"
Mrs. Brood closed her boudoir door
behind them. For an instant she stood
staring at the knob as If expecting to
see it turn
Il know" she said, 81 know why
you said it. Because ii was Ranjab."
She shivered slightly. 81 am afraid
of that man, Lydia. He seems to be
watching me all of the time. Day and
night his eyes seem to be upon me-"
why should he be watching You? o.
asked Lydia. bluntly.
Yvonne did not notice the question.
Even when I am asleep in my bed,
in the dead hour of night, he is look
ing at me-. ! a feel it, though asleep.
Oh, it Is not a dream. for my dreams
are of something or someone else
never of him. And yet he is there,
looking at me. lit is u%ncanny.'
IAN obsession," remarked Lydia,
quietly. He never struck me as es-
pecially omnipresent."
Didn't you feel him a moment
ago." demanded Yvonne, irritably.
The other hesitated, rejecting. 81
suppose it must have been something
like that" They were still facing the
door, standing close together. why
do you feel that he is watching you ?'
II don't know. | just feel it, that's
all. Day and night. He can read my
thoughts, Lydia. as he would read a
book. Isnt-isn't it disgusting" Her
laugh was spiritless. obviously arti-
fetal.
81 shouldn't object to his reading
my thoughts said Lydia.
"Ah, but you are Lydia. It's differ
ent. ] have thoughts sometimes, my
dear, that would not-but there! Let