The Washington times., 1920-07-18
CHAPTER VIII.
The Claim3nt.

dercely down fron . brazen
sky, and striking the big,
polished rehectors outside tho win
dows made the atmosphere In the
Offices Of Messrs. Baxenter we'll.
night insupportable. At his desk
In a far corner Cantle nodded over
4 specification, a page Of which he
had not turned for the last half
hour.
The second clerk, Z young man
whose attire showed q continual
conflict between law and sport. was
marking with q pencil the finals in
an evening paper, which, doubled
up small. protruded from under his
ledger. The office youth. whose
desk faced the windows. had skill.
fully disarranged the wire screen,
thereby making II possible to catch
ravishing glances Of the little &C.
tresses tripping daintily in their
high.heeled shoes and muslin drap-
cries along the Strand to visit their
agents.
The Baxenter cat, doubtless from
force of a long-established habit,
dozed In front Of the empty fire.
CRATE. 1t was very peaceful. very
somnolent and very stuffy in the
domains Of the firm OF Baxenter.
But upon the handsome face Of
the young head OF the house there
was a look Of deep intent as he
paced restlessly to and fro on tho
carpet Of the inner room. Now and
again he would stop and gaze out
over the green half-curtains on to
the shady side street, then would
turn to the letter which he carried
in his hand. He had found It
among his correspondence whom he
returned from his lunch, and hs
had read with curious sensations
the echoes Of the long-dead past
which it contained. It seemed to
him that someone was writing to
him across the ages, and, involun-
tarily, he raised his eyes to the
painting by Hoppner Of the founder
Of the Arm which hung on the gray
green e1panse Of wall facing the
windows. From it they returned
to the papers on his desk. resting
finally upon a portrait Of a lovely
girl, who, from her silver frame.
seemed to smile upon the young
solicitor.
Robert Baxenter crossed to his
chair and sat there in a reverie,
telling himself that it was in this
very room and sitting in this very
chair that his ancestor had listened
to the romantic story OF the Mar
quis do Dartigny. In his mind he
pictured the old nobleman as he
leaned forward, eagerly telling OF
his hopes and fear; saw the candle
light upon his face and upon the
ruffles OF lace at his throat, and
imagined the professional air Of
old Adam Baxenter nodding sasely
over his stock at his visitor.
As he gazed At the portrait on
the wall he could almost swear
that q new look had come into the
PAINTED eyes; that the old man
ssemed to smile down upon this
descendant who was taking on the
work begun so long ago. Perhaps
there was something after all in
the theory that spirits Of the dead
returned to the scenes of their
earthly strivings.
Then the young man pulled Min
self together and, turning to his
desk, struck twice on . bell. There
was q little interval-easily under.
stood by anyone who could Peep
into the life Of the outer office--a
tap on the door and Canus en-.
tered.
Robert BaIenter looked up from
the papers on his desk.
"Ah, Camille" he said; shut the
door, will you, and come right in
Pull up a chair--thats Il. I am
going to read you q letter which
came among these when I was out.
want you to listen carefully and
not interrupt me- until have
finished"
The old man was all attention a.
the solicitor picked out from a liz.
ter OF papers before him a sheet OF
thin notepaper. 1T is dated" he