The Connecticut labor press., 1919-12-27

time to time over his shoulder as he | went.
 l His statement in the store must have created a good deal of sensation, for | presently two clerks, as we'll as the two loungers, who had gone inside, came to the door and stared. Disen- 1 gazing himself from among these came the foreman, a tall, lean, lanky New | Englander, whose deliberate slouch and typical bearing warmed Hilary's heart instantly. He knew the type, knew it as only one with the New Eng land blood knows his own.
 I'm Lafe Cornell, at your service, Mir. Askew," said the foreman, coming up to Hilary and standing respectfully before him.
 ''I suppose I should have let you peo- pie know that I was coming" said Hilary.
 He wondered why Lafe Cornell whistled; he knew nothing about Brousseau's telephoned warning.
 "I guess you'll find things upset a little," said Cornell. "Mr. Morris has been away for a couple of weeks, see ing to his other interests, and I can't
 
 back. It's our slack month, you know, MT. Askew. The men don't go into the woods until September, and we don't keep a large force employed on the mill work"
 '"TOmorrow's soon enough to start in," said Hilary. "I'm pleased to have met you, MT. Connell"
 Wait minute" said the foreman. ''If you don't mind having me, I'll go up to the hotel with you. Maybe therell be some things that you'll want to ask me-"
 All right" said Hilary.
 They went together silently across the shaking bridge and ascended the hill, each quietly taking stock of the other. At the top, where a branch road ran off at right angles to that which crested the cliff, a figure on horseback appeared in the distance.
 It was a girl, riding side-saddle. As the horse drew near she pulled in to take the branch road without scatter ing the dust, passing within few feet of Hilary. He saw that she was about twenty years of age, or little more, slight, very straight upon the saddle, with gray-blue eyes and brown hair blown by the wind about her flushed cheeks. There was a combination of dignity and simplicity about her. both in her demeanor and in the way she rode, and in her acknowledgment of Councils greeting.
 Hilary watched her canter up the road till she had disappeared among the trees. Then he realized that he had not taken his eyes off her since he had first seen her.
 That" said Lafe, 'is Mamzelle Madeleine Rosny. Her fathers what they call the Seigneur."
 ''The owner of the Chateau?" asked Hilary, although he knew this per fectly.
 Yes, Mir Askew. guess she wouldn't have smiled so pleasant if she had known who you was.'
 "Why, MT. Connell?"
 Lafe jerked his thumb vaguely about the horizon. "Proud old boy" he ex- plained. "Family's been here nigh on thousand years, I guess-leastways, since them Frenchmen first came to this continent. Hated like thunder to sell out to your uncle. But I guess he was land poor, like the rest of them, and Mamzelle Madeleine must have cost him mint of money finishing up in the convent at Paris, France"
 Hilary turned this over in his mind as they continued their walk along the cliff and then down the road to the hotel. The idea of any personal ill- feeling on the Seigneur's part or on that of his family had not occurred to him. Though he did not expect to meet Monsieur ROsny, except possibly In the course of his business, he was conscious of a feeling of regret, and also of a half-fOrmed resolution, the nature of which he would not admit, to put relations upon a pleasant foot ing.
 In the hotel the landlords wife was already preparing supper. They ate an Omelet washed down with strong