The Washington herald., 1920-02-12

a brown mission couch. There were
sofa pillows and a shelf OF books.
4 kodak and a riding-crop hung
from a dagger stuck in the wall.
4 Morris chair was set beore one OF
I the windows. March sat upon the
arm of the chair, lingering the lace
curtain. Con stood still.
Near March was a young girl who
seemed subtly afraid OF something
of Lexington himself. She wore
a silken blouse, open at the throat
and a skirt the smartly defined
mode of American avenues. follow
ing the line of her slender body.
Her timidity was nevertheless
bright-eyed with pleasure. The
face was sun-tanned, the eyes held
diamond light. Here was the
lovely golden-brown hair that had
flown free upon the gray cloak of
the rider, the same that the prIn-
cess of yesterday had bound up
high in court fashion. She was
looking at him again.
IT was March who spoke first,
and the young man saw that he hao
tears in his eyes. His voice was
unreliable just now:
Il have found my little girl
Lexington bowed, strugg ] n &
with an inner tidal wave. Andrew
March seized the girls hands, and
she turned to him frankly. He was
saying: But our little mother
Eithna-" He kissed her hair.
and she placed her hand upon his
arm, as If to ease his pain. She
was frail beside the veteran of the
sands. She did not embrace him.
and March seemed not to expect
any demonstration of sentiment. He
regained self-control and faced Con.
with an effort to smile.
This is Con Lexington" he said
to the girl. To Con: My daughter.
Helen"
Her name leapt in Cons heart.
He bowed over her hand. and found
himself murmuring, princess" In
the blur of his inward excitement.
her voice was like sunlight as it
falls rich and mellow across an
oaken staircase. He was strongly
affected by il. There was an embar-
rasse6 moment during which Con
glanced out at the window at the
moving branches OF the white oaks.
Quickly he swung back. to add: 1T
is a great privilege to be sum-
moned."
Helen said simply: II am not sure
how to speak. ] never saw a white
man up TO this hour
She intended this 10 be a compli-
ment, for she was smiling: yet he
could not forget the fact that she
was the royal creature who had
glanced across the throne-room
yesterday.
why have they been so ex-
tremely careful to keep US away
he wondered aloud.
1T is Asia" she replied, and, truly.
he had forgotten that.
There was no mistaking the grand
child of the aged Stephen March.
She was the embodiment Of all that
men hold dear. Her eyes made bold
TO tell all that in another would have
been held secret. II was the old
story of Asia. Perhaps her days in
this desert fastness had been a mo-
notony of innocence, but they mad
not made her smile a blank. Con
could not estimate anything beyond
the fact that when she swayed slight
ly beside her father, deeply searching
for the right word. her young grace
was matchless-
do not be sorrowful." she whis-
pered to her father.
March nodded. Yes. that is right. -
and his face frightened as he re-
garded her.
She crossed the room. lightly, a
rapid fitting gait that somehow ex-
pressed the Far Eastern feminine.
Yet the clean whip OF the West was
there also, and through her person
ality these qualities were a smooth,
soft madness to Lexington. He was
aware that all the Journeys of his
life had either ended here or just be-
gun.
All the alIuring intimations that had
troubled the lad Stephen March. wnen
he had crossed America before the