Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1919-06-08
IRISH


her shoulders and arms. 1t was
charming picture. with that wonder
full background of colored marbles
and white sunshine.
Aren't they beautiful, the soft,
coral-footed. ther-breasted things!
If l ever have garden I'm going to
have a dovecote."
las many as you like" said Will
liam.
She was naturally without the least
suspicion that there was anything
serious behind this pleasantly. Be-
sides, she would have dismissed 1t as
absurd. She had not yet really label
ed William. Women usually mark
the male as dangerous or harmless,
and she had come to accept him as
neither the one nor the other; which
Is to say that William was a diplo-
mat of no mean order He was al
ways at her side, and she was be-
ginning to turn over to him the trif-
ling little labors of the day. He saw
to 1t that she had the latest maya
zines; he ran unimportant errands.
argued with porters and cabmen and
shopkeepers, shooed off importunate
beggars, handled the tickets. and
sometimes took care Of her circular
notes or express checks because she
had a weakness for old filet.
Perhaps it was because he accepted
these labors with comradeship
which was neither presuming nor
particularly humble that she had not
bothered to catalogue him. When
he shook hands with her. there was
never that extra pressure which the
average woman learns to dread.
William guarded his secret well;
neither in his voice nor in his eyes
was there ever a hint of the volcano
bubbling and seething below. 1t was
only when he was alone and unob-
served that little craters opened up
to relieve the pressure. No doubt this
required good deal Of will power
But there was this fact always be-
fore him; he was going to watch over
this school teacher of his until she
was safely home.
So, then. to her he was good COM
rade. amusing, lively; but she rarely
carried any thought Of him over the
threshold of her room.
She stepped down from the pedestal.
brushing the corn dust from her
hands and sleeves.
Say, sister, would you mind feed
ing the doves for Ave minutes while
l hike up the alley there" pointing
under the clock, land get some to-
bacco? I'm dying for smoke"
Run along. / could stay here all
day with these doves"
M AZ cd hic hot
firmly and darted across the square,
disappearing up the alley" as he
called the Merceria.
Ruth sQuatted to the pavement and
began sprinkling the corn about. She
had learned that 1t did not pay to feed
the doves too much at once. They
were ungrateful little beggars: and,
we'll fed, they were quite likely to de-
part by twos and threes to their
perches among the statues and CAPT.
tails Of the palaces. The last yellow
kernel vanished and Ruth stood up.
"And so l find you!"
Ruth turned her head at the sound
of this voice, which was not William
Grogan's. Beyond this action, how
ever, she was unable to move. She
could only stare and stare. hypno-
tized. Presently the numbness gave
way to needle-like tingling. and she
found that she could use her legs
She retreated slowly, intending to run
when all her strength had returned.
but unfortunately for this project her
shoulders came into contact with
pillar Of the portico. The stranger
had followed her step by step and
paused when she paused.
william approaching rapidly across
the square. saw the tableau. A mash
er? He would attend to that. He
began to run. He arrived just as the
stranger laid hold of Ruth's wrist.
Immediately the stranger felt two
strong hands embed their fingers In
his shoulders and he was irresistibly
whirled right about face. The freck-
led countenance he looked into was
wreathed in the most amiable OF
smiles, but the blue eyes were as cold
and beautiful and merciless as win
ter stars.
CHAPTER XII.