The spectator., 1918-12-10
CHAPTER V.

When at last he alighted at the door. and was shown into the recep- tion room, he felt that he was almost l trembling with eagerness.
 He looked uncertainty about him, at the group of young officers, the ladies, at Mrs. Howard and then at the styl- ishly dressed young woman at her side.
 And, forgetting his manners, he ap- preached her in stupefaction, ignoring his hostess for the moment.
 "Eleanor '"
 Uncle Mark! It's never you. Uncle Mark '" cried the girl. "Why, I should never, never have known your But would he have known her, had | he not looked closely into the clear 1 eyes to discern the face of the little waif beneath the beauty of the woman? He had often and often imagined her, l grown to womanhOod, and dressed as l he would have dressed her, but some how she had always had the look and l aspect of the child, blended with the l schoolgirl. A sudden chill went through l his heart at her self-mastery, the we'll l bred welcome that had in it little of real eagerness. And he realized that, l though he had always looked on her as lost, at the bottom of his heart he must have hoped to find her again.
 He stood, q graying- uncom- fortable almost middle-aged man, try ing to feel at home. He saw Keller man looking at him across the room, as If there was some message in his eyes.
 'I hope I haven't changed so much as all that" said Mark, trying to smile.
 "No." she answered, looking at him with a searching, direct gaze. Not really-only at first appearance. Why, Uncle Mark, your hair is turning gray. What have you been doing with your self?
 He felt that the unconscious shaft had gone well home. He only answer cd vaguely. There was a little in- formal dancing, and, as he felt befitted his age, he waltzed a few turns with Eleanor and sat back with Mrs How ard, surveying the gay crowd, and re- calling memories-about the most dis heartening thing that he could have done.
 What do you think of Eleanor?" asked Mrs. Howard. "You didn't ex- pect to find the little schoolgirl grown up like this, did your"
 'Nor she me-like this" answered Mark humbly. But the Colonels wife missed the allusion.
 {n Mrs. Howard continued. "She gave the Colonel no rest after he told us that he was trying to get you for the war office. I believe she had always had sort of romantic recollection of you, and looked upon you as sort of guardian, although, of course, it was n
 fortunate thing for her and us-and
 you, too-that Colonel Howard did
 succeed in inducing you to let us take
 her. She has been everything to us. VI "Of course" said Mark mechanic
 ally.
 Tt would have been a terrible life . for her out in the desert" sighed Mrs.
 Howard. 'I think that you were very
 wise, Captain Wallace. And what a dreadful burden and responsibility you you would have had!"
 This time Mark did not attempt to answer.
 'She has been daughter to both of us," pursued his hostess. And now !, I'm afraid-we're both afraid, Captain
 Wallace, that we cannot hope to have her for long. She was quite the rage in New York last season." Wallace followed the girl with his eyes. She had just been dancing with young officer; it had been a two step, and as the band of three pieces !. broke into the widest and merriest } part of the piece he saw her, with flushed face and laughing eyes, accept . Kellerman's arm and surrender herself . to the dance.
 Kellerman caught Marks eyes across the room. He looked straight back with meaning challenge which was
 unmistakable. Mark knew at that . moment that his antipathy to Keller : man had returned, although he was in- clined to believe the other was not aware 1t had ever existed. , Kellerman was splendid figure, even in his civilian evening clothes Fully six feet tall, with the chest and limbs of an athlete, fiorid, with crisp , black hair and sense of the posses . sion of power, he looked at least five years Marks junior, though they had been born in the same year. Hand some Kellerman" had been his sobri.