The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1917-07-26

in the fire. l wish | understood my
self IA little better, EugeneT
II believe that understand you bet
ter, far better, than you understand
yourself" he declahed "That is why
l also believe that am necessary to
you. can prevent your making mis-
takes"
"Then prevent me-" she begged.
Something has happened, and the
chart is in the fire today"
"YOu have only" he said, 'tO give
me this little hand, and l will draw
out Il fresh one which shall direct to
the place in life which is best for you.
II is not too late"
She rose from beside him and walked
toward the fireplace, as If to touch the
bell. He watched her with steady eyes
but expressiOnless face. There was
something curious about her walk. The
spring had gone from her feet, her
shoulders were a little hunched. 1t was
the walk of a woman who goes toward
the things she fears.
"StOp!" he bade her.
She turned and faced him, quickly,
almost eagerly. There was look In
her face of the prisoner who finds re-
spite.
Leave the bell alone" he directed.
my own plans are changed. l do not
wish to leave London this week."
Her face was suddenly brilliant, her
eyes shOne. Something electric seemed
to qulver through her frame. She al
most danced back TO her place by his
side.
"How foolish =! she murmured. "Why
didn't you say so at Once?"
Because" he replied, "they have
only been changed during the last few
seconds. l wanted to discover some
thing which have discovered"
ITO discover something's"
THAT my time has not yet come"
She turned away from him. She was
oppressed with a sense almost of fear,
feeling that he was able to read the
very thoughts forming in her brain ;
to understand, as no one else in the
world could understand. the things
that lived in her heart.
"T must not keep you" he remarked,
glanCing at the clock. ut was very
late for me to call, and you will he
wanting to join your friends"
"They are coming here for me-" she
explained "There is really no hurry
Mt all. We are not changing anything.
1t is to be quite simple evening.
Sometimes l wish that you cared about
things of that sort, Eugene"
He blew through his lips n little
cloud of smoke from the cigarette
which he had just lit.
81 am not of the people," he said
"and have no sympathy with them.
detest the bourgeoisie of every country
In the wOrld-my own more particu-
larly."
"If you only knew how strangely
that sounds" she murmured.
''DOeS it?'' he answered you should
read my family history, read of the
men and women of my race who were
| butchered at the hands Of that drunk
en-, lustful mob whom lying historians
have glorified. ] am one of those who
do not forget injuries. My estates are
administered more severely than any
others in France. No penny of my
money has ever been spent in charity.
neither forget nor forgive"
She laughed little nervOusly.
what an unsympathetic person you
can he, Eugene"
"And for that very reason" he re-
piled. II can be sympathetic. Because
1 hate some people, have the power
me TO deal severely with my enemies,
it gives me joy to deal generously with
my friends. That is my conception of
life. May I wish you pleasant eve
ning?"
"You are going now?' she asked, a
little surprised. "When shall see you
again?"
"a telephone message from your
maid, line written with your own fin.
gers" he said, will bring me to you
within a few minutes. IF hear moth,
ing l may come unlimited, but it will
be when the fancy takes me. Once
more, Louise, a pleasant evening ~
He passed out of the door, which the
parlor maid was holding open for him
Crossing to the window, Louise
watched him leave the house and enter
his waiting automobile. He gave nc
sign of haste or disappointment. He
lit another cigarette deliberately upon
the pavement and gave his orders tC
the chauffeur with some care.
As the car drove off without his hav'
ing once glanced up at the window, she