The St. Charles herald. [volume] (Hahnville, La.) 1873-1993, 1919-01-25
CHAPTER v.


door, and was shown into the recep-
ton room, he felt that he was almost
trembling with eagerness.
He looked uncertainty about him, at |
the group Of young officers, the ladies,
at Mrs. Howard, and then at the styl-
ishIy 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, should
never, never have known you!"
But would he have known her, had
he not looked closely into the clear
ewes to discern the face of the little
waif beneath the beauty Of the woman!
He had often and often imagined her,
grown to womanhood, and dressed as
he would have dressed here but some
how she had always had the look and
aspect of the child, blended with the
schoolgirl. A sudden chill went through
his heart at her self-mastery, the we'll
bred welcome that had in 1t little OF
real eagerness. And he realized that,
| 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, a graying-haired, uncom-
Portable, 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.
81 hope haven't changed so much
as all that" said Mark, trying to
smile.
'No," she answered, looking at him
with a searching, direct gage. 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 we'll home. He only answer
ed vaguely. There was q little In
formal dancing, and, as he felt befitted
his age, he waltzed 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 yOu?" %
s"Nor she me-like this" answered
Mark humbly. But the ColOners wife
missed the allusion.
"She has been crazy to see you,
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 q sort of romantic recollection OF
you, and looked upon you as sort OF
guardian, although, Of course, it was
fortunate thing for her and us-and
you, too-that Colonel Howard die
succeed in inducing you to let us take
her. She has been everything to u.s.
, "Of course" said Mark mechanic
ally.
'It would have been terrible life
for her out in the desert" sighed Mrs
Howard. II think that you were very
wise, Captain Wallace. And what :
dreadful burden and responsibility ys
you would have had"
!, This time Mark did not attempt tt
answer.
"She has been q daughter to both o.
: u.s." pursued his hostess. "And nov
, I'm afraid-we're both afraid, CaptaiI
Wallace, that we cannot hope to Sav'
her for long. She was quite the rag
! in New York last season"
: Wallace followed the girl with MI
eyes. She had just been dancing witt
: q Young officer; 1t had been two
step. and as the band of three pieces
I broke into the widest and merries
, part of the piece he saw her, Wit
flushed face and laughing eyes, accep
t Kellermans arm and surrender hersel
t to the dance.
Kellerman caught Marks eyes acros
y the room. He looked straight bacl
t with a meaning challenge which Wa'
l unmistakable. Mark knew at tina
e moment that his antipathy to Keller
! man had returned, although he was In
{ clined to believe the other was no
: aware it had ever existed.
9 Kellerman was splendid hgure
4 even in his civilian evening clothes
1 Fully six feet tall, with the chest ant
i. limbs of an athlete, ford, with crisl
K black hair and a sense of the posses
e sion of power, he looked at least NV
:. years Marks junior, though they hat
r been born in the same year. Hand
}. some Kellerman" had beeneh his sobri