The Irish standard., 1920-04-17

dozen and flrst, her mother had for
bidden him her house.
He dined with considerable leisure,
and smoked cigar almost to the end
before he left the table. When he
quilted the room, 1t was with practi-
cal assurance that his gravest fears
were groundless, but for an addition
al precaution he read an evening pa
per in the lobby and endured in safe.
ty the inspection Of score of men
who had known him we'll enough to
refuse to loan him money.
At half-past eight, vastly heartened
and refreshed, he equipped himself
with certain documents from his suit
case, and called for a taxicab. The
address he gave the driver was high
on the eastern hills; during the last
half mile, Hilliafd was peering out at
the shaded lights of houses where lie
had played in his earlier youth. The
car stopped; Hilliard went up q stone
tagged walk. up broad stone steps,
and stood ona huge veranda. He was
calm, and yet his knees were discOn-
certingly unsteady; he was determin-
ed, and yet his heart was pumping In
uneven beats; for the moment, his
throat was dusty dry.
AS he gained the level of the ver-
anda, there was stir Of activity of
to the right, and an erect, middle
aged man clambered out of ham,
mock, and came brIskly forward.
Back in the shadows Hilliard could
detect the soft outlines of white
dress.
"Yes7" The middle-aged man was
politely brusque.
us this Mr.. Cullen? Mr..
James Cullen?"
"Yes sir!" The middle-aged man
was very convincing about 1t. "Yes,
sir. What can l do for you?"
HilIiard bowed stiffly from the hips
"a touch Of foreign courtesy which
had it's rffc"t.
IF you're at leisure, Mr.. Cullen,
should like very much to have word
with you. On-l think I may call 1t
so-urgent private matters. My name
is Hilliard. In BRIEF I've come uI
from New York today to bring you a
letter from a young man named Rich,
ard Morgan"
"Morgan!" said the older man
sharply, "Dick Morgan!" Back in the
shadows there was sudden rustic
"Where's he?"
Hes dead" said HilIiard. "He died
in France" Mr.. Cullen stood perfect.
ly still, and billiard, watching him
intently. was overcome by resentment
at the knowledge that two years ago
this man had held Hilliard's fate in
his thick fingers.
NO" said Mr.. Cullen. "Of all
things! Well, what d'you know about
that! Dick Morgan dead!" There
was surprise, but little poignancy in
his tone. "Isn't that terrible! And
over in France! Angela. did
you hear tbat|'
More r,lstIing from the shadows, and
slim figure stepping out Of them into
the foreground; IT was Angela Cullen,
just over the brink Of seventeen. ex-
qusitcly small and blonde. and pro-
foundly agitated by the news. HI
lard bowed mechanically; he had re.
mcrnbered her as a vivid little bOyt!en
Queer. that his heart should skip q
beat or two at beh0ldfng her nov
But she had brought the first remem.
brnnce OF untroubIed days back to
him. and the contrast hurt-abOmt.
nnbly.
"Oh, dad! :" she said with quick
intake Of her breath. "Oh
dad" And cIung to him for refuge
staring the while with wide ard fear.
fuI eyes at the tail stranger who had
delivered the lacOnic message.
Cullen held her close, and cleared
his throat. He WAS in the common
enough situation Of man who feels
that he ought to be deeply moved, and
isn't, and wonders why: and his trans
parent effort to be funercal was slight
ly OverIone.
ITS Il great shock to us-of course
ne SAID, speaking slowly. "A great
shock. Oh! Mr. Hllllard-In,
daughter. Well, must gay /.
Suppose we sit down and talk thi,
over"
HiIliard bowed again; Mr. Cullen
his arm encircling Angela, led the way
to the hammock and its reinforcement
Of wicker chairs. The trio va,
seated: HflIjard cOughed delicately
and after that, there was brte
silence. Gradually. the air va,
charged with cOnstraint. Here h
was. and there was Angela ans
Nr. Cullen-aID 0f them ltttl'
older. all Of them a great deal NOR
repressed, but even 20, here they were
these three. just as they had sat I,
the same place, on the same sort o
summer evenings, when Dicky Morga,
wasn't yet anathema, and when ..
This this thing hApDenes
some time ago, did It? You wer,
abroad yOuryelf:"