The Press., 1915-08-18

 | light step on the staircase. he ap- preached the door and stood waiting. l A woman entered the room, and he caught her ill his arms. | She submitted to the embrace, but did not return it. You are as you were when we part ed," he said in a disappointed tone. You were then without warmth, and you are without 1t now. wonder how | these years"
 Standing off from her, he was aston ished to see one who looked not day older than when he had left her. Upon my word," he exclaimed joy fully, you have not changed in the least! It is marvellous how you have retained your youth. I feel almost too old for you"
 Now for the first time the lady ven tured to speak, but she spoke not as widow of mature age; she was rath- CT coy young girl. She haltingly told him that he said what he did in order to fiatter her, whereupon he vowed that he spoke the truth, and he em- braced her again.
 And now" he said. releasing her, where is baby? I must see her at once"
 You forget that baby is no longer baby; she is a schoolgirl"
 Where is she?"
 "Why, she is at school"
 At school Not here to welcome her papa? But she will return pres entlyY
 "She is at a boarding school some distance from here." This was said falteringly as falsehood would be spoken.
 Surely you are deceiving me. It cannot be that
 Clara is well; nothing has happened to her." "ClaraY'
 "Of course. Have you forgotten that her name and mine are the sameY
 "Oh! I have always been accustom- ed to think of her as baby For my life I cannot understand how you can l have preserved your youth. Are you sure that no rouge''-
 Not particle" Surely by this time you should have few faint lines around your eyes. I see no trace of age whatso- ever. Your lips are as red as they were when I last kissed them." And he kissed them again. But why" he continued, do you welcome me in this dim hght?" Perhaps when you see me in a | brighter one you may see what age has done for me- AS she spoke lights were turned on from another part of the house, and a woman entered the drawing room have seen before. My mother" said Clara Pomeroy. Happy to meet you, madam" said Edgerton, lowing. Then, turning to Clara: Your mother! Why, suppos- ed your mother'- "Hughv' said the lady who had en- | tered.
 Edgerton started. He looked again at Clara's mother, and there came to him a feeling that he had made a | grave mistake. He turned from her to the daughter. Under the brighter light he saw that she could not be more than twenty. Turning again to the mother, he recogniZeds his fiancee of sixteen years ago turned into a woman who, though not quite forty, looked at least fifty. Her hair was white, her skin was wrinkled, her neck under her chin was shriveled.
 "I am Clara" she said, land that is Baby When you went away I did not believe that on your return I would be fit age for you. look older than I am, but no man of your age should be tied to a woman of mine. Clara so nearly resembled me as I was when you left us that was tempted to put her forward as myself. The result has been as I expected. In me you looked for the youthful person you left six teen years ago. You have found an old woman. You supposed that in Cla "a you would find little girl. You have found her what I was when you parted from me-"
 Edgerton listened to this speech with countenance which, despite his eff forts, betrayed that 1t described the sit uation. At its conclusion he began to stammer objections, but the lady took his hand, pressed 1t warmly and laid it in that of her daughter.
 q have no wish to influence you two except for your own good. Clara is Uhat was at her age and, as told you years ago, you are fine fellow. give you a good wife,"
 Edgerton married Clara Pomeroy, but she was of different generation from the love of his extreme youth.