The Mena weekly star., 1916-05-04

much of euphemism,v he said. They
 would be more grateful if did the other thing But otherwise it is true
 have not put my foot under a hos. pltable roof for twenty years"
 Had you no one who" She hesi. tated. sudden color in her cheeks, and he leaned forward, his hands loosely interlocked between his knees, his handsome, ruthless face grave and intent
 No. I hadn't anyone. Madame Ar- maud"
 Her gaze faltered under his steady, piercing eyes.
 What is your country, Colonel De stinnf'
 II do not know, madame I have forgotten" There was a little silence, In which the fountain played a silvery intermezzo, and then he went on in an altered tone: You are the first per son who has made wish to remember"
 She was looking up at him again with a studied frankness, behind which there lurked something hypnotized, fas- cinated.
 He turned carelessly from her.
 "Ah, Arnsud, you there? You see. have been breaking up the principles Of years to entertain your wife If you leave her too much alone you will find these English roses fade very quickly in this dreary place. Man, don't look as if you had seen the devil"
 The young officer, hesitating on the edge of the low veranda, recovered himself with an effort.
 My colonel-I was taken aback 1 had not expected-but I am delighted and most honored. I beg of you to let me enjoy the pleasure"
 NO, no. Arnaud. We see enough of each other elsewhere, and, moreover, 1 have pressing engagement with three deserters from the Eleventh com pany. Au reyoir. madame-and thank youl"
 He lifted her hand to his lips, his eyes still on her face. and, returning Arnauds salute. strode across the sunlit courtyard and disappeared into the shadows. Husband and wife watched him in silence. Then Arnaud gave a short. half-angry laugh.
 When the devil goes abroad it is usually to some purpose" he said HIIovy did ha coma here 2f
 T invited him."
 He had not called on you"
 She shrugged her shoulders prettily.
 That was just what made me do it. l was bored and lonely, and bored | and lonely people are bound to do mad"
 You are very often bored Sylvia"
 "Yes," she agreed. But does that | mean I am very often madT
 He looked up at her, his pale eyes full of moody wistfulness. How much | can happen in year where q woman is concerned, A year ago you would | not have been bored, Sylvia. You | thought then that there was no more l lovely place on earth than Sidi-bel- Abbes, and that there was no other | man for you than myself. Now you are restless and discontented. You hate the place and-perhaps your hus- band" The last words broke from him with petulant violence. It was the irritable accusation of man who does not believe what he is saying and ex- pects contradiction. None came. Syl- via Arnaud's fair head was still bent | over her flowers. He sprang upright, his face ashv with passion. Do you nate me, Sylvia ?" he stammered. Sne lifted her eyes for moment, but not 10 him. In their brown, velvety depu-s there were pathos and melancholy in fnitely touching.
 "Oh, no, I don't hate you, Desire,s she said in her soft voice. Il havss never hated anyone. But you don't uf- derstand. How should you? You are a man. and not even man of my own race. Women are so different. They live in such a narrow circle, Desire, and their dreams are everything to them. They hold up ideals for them selves, and the whole world is glerified In their eyes. How natural when a man comes to them they should hail him as the consummation of all they boped and fancied-bow natural that they should wake up one day and find he glorious world a desert and their alols shattered forever"
 Have done that?' She made no answer. and he sprang at her and seized her by the wrist in a paroxysm ,s excitement Have I done thatf