Evening star., 1917-11-04

'Ohr exclaimed Polly.
There was pause during which in
much inward trepidation avoided
meeting her eyes. Then Polly added
thoughtfully;, Il think that was very
good reason"
In our many talks the name of the
Fletcher Farrells had never been men
toned. / had been most careful to
return imminent. and in consequence
my need to fly grew more near, and
the name was still unspoken, 1 was
proportionately grateful. But when the
name did come up had reason to be
pleased. for Polly spoke 1t with ap-
proval. and 1t was one evening about
two weeks after we had met, and I had
sidestepped the Lowells and was motor
ing with Polly alone. We were talking
Of our favorite authors. dead and alive.
You may laugh" said Polly. and she
said it defiantly: 'and don't know
whether you would call him among the
dead or the living. but I am very fond
My heart leaped. was so ratified
that I nearly ran the car into q stone
wall. I thought I was discovered and
that Polly was playing with me. But
her next words showed that she was
innocent. She did not know that tho
man to whom she was talking and Of
whom she was talking were the same.
t'Of course. you will say she went on.
that he Is too romantic, that he is not
seventeenth century. SO I don't know
whether he is true to life or not. And
I like romance. The life I lead in the
store gives me all the reality I want.
like to read about brave men and
great and gracious ladies' 1 never met
any girls like those Farrell writes
about, but it's nice to think they exist
wish 1 were like them. And his men.
too, they make love better than any
other man I ever read about"
Polly gazed at the sky. frowning Sc
verely. After a pause, and as though
she had dropped my remark into the
road and the wheels had crushed 1t.
She she said: coldly. Talking about
NO" corrected. I'VE were talking
about Fletcher Farrell"
Then" said Polly with some as
you know" she went on hurriedly. that
YOU look like him--like the pictures of
him-as he was?"
Heavens. I exclaimed, "the mans
not dead"
You know what I mean," protested
Polly. "As he was before he stopped
writing"
Nor has he stopped writing" I OBJ
jected; his books have stopped SELL
inn"
Polly turned upon me eagerly.
"Do you know him?' she demanded.
I answered with caution that had
net him.
"ohw she exclaimed, tell me about
him,"
I was extremely embarrassed. 1t was
a bad place. About myself could not
say anything pleasant. and behind my
back. as 1t were. certainly was not
going to say anything unpleasant. But
Polly relieved me OF the necessity Of
saying anything.
II don't know any man. she ex-
claimed fervently, II would so like to
meet"
1t seemed to me that after that the
less l said the better. So I told her
something was wrong with the engine
and by the time I had pretended to fx
1t / had led the conversation away
from Fletcher Farrell as novelist to
myself as q chauffeur.
The next morning at the hotel temp
tation was again waiting for me. This
time 1t came in the form of letter
from my prospective father-in-law. 1t
had been sent from Cape May to my
address in New York. and by my serv-
ant forwarded In an envelope address,
ed to Frederick Fitzgibbon."
1t was what In the world OF COM
merce Is called a "follow-up" letter.
1t recalled the terms of his offer to me.
and improved upon them. 1t made 1t
Farrell and his wife were sttll anxious
to stand for me as a son. They were
good enough to say they had found me
perfect gentleman" They hoped
that after considering their PROPOSE
ton I had come to look upon It with
favor.
As his son. Mr.. Farrell explained. my
annual allowance would be the inter-
est on 100000. and upon his death
his entire fortune and property he
would beQueath to me. He was will
ing, even anxious. to put this in writ
ing. In a week he would return to