The Washington times., 1920-07-16

. ohOprt duSllOh iOohios 1'N
collections OF those beautiful or
rare or merely curious and interest
ing objects which for many years
IL had been his pleasure TO nose
out and sometimes acquire.
For now that his SON was BUSY
writing for the greater portion OF
the day, and Stephsine had gone
away to college, Cleland senior
gradually became conscious OF
subtle change which was beginning
within himself-a tendency TO re-
alization that his work in life had
been pretty nearly accomplished
and that IL was almost time 10
rest
With this conviction came ten
dency to depression, inclination Tor
silence and retrospection, not en-
tirely free from melancholy. Not
unnoticed by his physician, either.
who had arrived at his own conclu-
sions. The medical treatment, how
ever. continued on the same lines
sketched out by the first prescrip-
tions. except that all narcotics and
stimulants were forbidden.
John Cleland now made IL a Gus
tom to go every day to his club,
gossip with the older members. per
haps play a game OF chess with
some friend OF his early youth,
lunch there with ancient cronies,
sometimes fall asleep in one of the
great, deep chairs in the lounging
hall. And. as he had always been
constitutionally moderate, the ply
sician's edict depriving him of his
cigar and his claret annoyed him
scarcely at all. Always he returned
to the home on S0th street, when
his only son was likely to be free
from work; and together they dined
at home, or more rarely at Del
monico's; and sometimes they went
together to some theater or concert.
For they were nearer to each
other than they had ever been
In their lives during those quiet
autumn and winter days together;
and they shared every thought
almost every thought-only Cleland
had never spoken to his son about
the medicine he was taking regu-
larly, nor OF the odd experience
when he had found himself stand
ing dazed and speechless by his own
bed in the silence and darkness OF
early morning.
Stephanie came back at Christ
mas-a lovely surprise-a supple,
gray-eyed young thing, grown an
inch and a half taller, flower-fresh,
instinct with the Intoxicating Wig
our and delight OF mere living. and
tremulous with unuttered and very
youthful ideas about everything on
earth.
H She kissed Cleland Senior clung
to him. caressed him. But for the
first time her demonstration ended
there; she offered her hand to Jim
in flushed and slightly confused si-
lence.
What's the matter with you,
steve, demanded the youth, half
laughing, half annoyed. you think
you're too big to kiss me? By Jove,
you shall kiss me-p' And he
summarily saluted her.
She got away from him immedi-
ately with an odd little laugh, and
held tightly to Clelahd Senior again.
Dad, darling, darllng!" she muir
INJURED, I'm glad I'm back. Are
you? Do you really want me? And
I'm going to tell you right now, /
don't wish to have you arrange par
ties and dinners and dances and
things for me. All 1 want is to be
with you and go to the theater
every night"
Good Lord, Steve! That's no pro-
gram for a pretty girl"
I'm not! Don't call me that!
I've got a mind! But 1 have got
such lots to learn-so many, liany
things to learn! And only one life
to learn the min
Fiddle" remarked Jim.
ut really isn't fiddle, Jim, I'm
just crazy to learn things, and I'm
not one bit interested in frivclty
and ordinary things and people,"
You liked people once; you
liked to dance
when l was a child, yes" she
retorted, scornfully. But 1 real
ize now, how short life is"
Fiddle" repeated Jim. That
fool college is spelling you for
fair."
Dad! He's brute! You UNDER
derstand me, darling. don't you?
Don't let him plague me-"
His arm around her slender
shoulder frightened; all three were
laughing.
You don't have to dance. Steve,
II you don't want to-" he said. DO
you consider it frivolous to dine oc-
casionally? Meacham has just an
nounced the possibility of food"
(To BE Continued Tomorrow.)