The Benson signal., 1918-03-09
CHAPTER XIV.
COuleur-de- Rose.

ton, because the situation she found
herself in when she'd opened the door
for her husband, shaken hands with
him, led him into her sitting room and
asked him to sit down, was one which
the widest cast Of her imagination
would never have suggested as pos
Sible one for her and Rodney.
| It was his manner, she felt sure,
that had created it; his rather formal
attitude; the way he held his hat. It
was the slightly anxious, very deter
mined attitude Of an estimable and
rather shy young man making his first
call on young lady upon whom he is
desperately desirous Of making a IA
vorable impression.
And he was Rodney, and she was
Rose. It was like an absurd dream.
"Won't you smoker" she asked sud-
denly, and hurried on when he hesi-
tated. "T don't do it myself, but most
of my friends do, and I keep the
things" From drawer in her writing
desk she produced a tin box Of ciga-
rettes. "They're your kind-unless
you've changed" she commented, and
went over to the mantel-shelf for an
ash tray and match safe. The match
safe was empty and she left the room
to get fresh supply from her kitchen.
On the inner face of her front door
was a big mirror, and in it, as she
came back through the unlighted pas
sage, she saw her husband. He was
sitting Just as she'd left him, and as
his face was partly turned away from
her, it could not have been from the
expression of it that she got her revela-
ton. But she stopped there in the
dark and caught her breath and leaned
back against the wall and squeezed
the tears out Of her eyes.
He stayed that first evening little
less than an hour, and when he got
up to go she made no effort to detain
him. The thing had been, as it's un.
broken surface could satisfy, highly
successful first call. Before she let
him go, though, she asked him how
long he was going to be in New York,
and on getting a very indeterminate
answer which offered a minimum of
1.-TWO or three days. and a maximum
that could not even be guessed at, she
said:
II hope you're not going to be too
dreadfully busy for us to see lot OF
each other. I wish we might manage
it once every day."
That shook him; for a moment,
she thought the lightning was going
to strike, and stood very still holding
her breath, waiting for it.
But he steadied himself, said he
could certainly manage that If she
could, and, as the elevator came up In
response to her ring, said that he would
call her up in the morning at her office.
AS she cuddled her cheek into the pill
low that night, Rose smiled her old,
wide smile. She was the happiest per-
son in the world.
| That manner Of Rodney's lasted-re-
Cured, at least, whenever Rose and
he were together-almost unaltered, for
two whole days. There was visit
of his to her workshop, where he lis
tened intently to her explanations OF
her tools and her working methods.
There was luncheon, at which, un-
wincing, he made her tell him the
whole story of her success; and a
dinner and theater, after which he
brought her home in taxi, and, hav-
ing told the chauffeur to wait, formal.
ly escorted her to the elevator. But
with the last of the next days light,
the ice broke up and the floods came.
She had taken him to a studio tea
in the upper sixties just off West End
avenue, the proprietors Of the studio
being a tousled, bearded, blond an
archist of a painter and his exceed
ingly pretty, smart, frivolous-looking
wife.
The two men had instinctively drawn
controversial swords almost at sight
of each other, and for the hour and
half that they we're together the COM
bat ragged nightly, to the unmixed
satisfaction Of both participants. The
feelings of the bystanders were per-
haps more diverse, but Rose, at least,
enjoyed herself thoroughly, over seeing
her husbands big, formidable, finely
poised mind in action again. The talk,
Of course, ranged everywhere: social
ism, feminism, law and it's crimes,
art, and the social mind.
It was half-past six or thereabouts
when they left the studio, and the late
May afternoon was at it's loveliest. 81
want to walk" said Rose, "after that
tea, if I'm ever to want any dinner"
He nodded a little absently, she
thought, and fell in step beside her.
There was no mention at any time Of
their destination.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)