Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1920-09-10

her waist--the touch Of his lips on hers,
| the sound of his passionate voice, tell
| A little wearied she had been with
him then. Always she had thought OF
MIN as O. stepping stone to other and
greater things. She had looked past
Of %SGs smsSns 9 to 5ussrs ss susd fhs n'd
l. And what had the future brought her7
Many disappointments, many disillu-
| sionments. The whole road back to those
With lost deals ana useless sse%sd tsSrs
And he had said that he would al
She, too, could remember that Incl
dent ae1n. In, IN the garden even as Faversham
and slow tears filled her brown eyes.
She had been wiser than he. after all.
She recalled how she had told him that
some day he would look back, and re-
| foolish
| And that Is what he had done, by his
own admission. She knew that he had
meant her when he spoke Of the girl
She got up from her seat and went
over to mirror, looking earnestly at
herself with wlstful eyes.
She had changed In her heart, even II
Sometimes she felt herself 80 old in her
worldly experience, no tired Of 1t all
| so deadly tired Of II.
What was the matter with her that
| tonight she could look back on a senti-
mental past and sigh for the kisses OF a
boy-lover who had wearied her to death
with MS passionate pleadings and pro-
! "Honey-bee brown" he had called her
eyes. She wondered IL he remsmberedi
| And again their softness was clouded
with q mist Of tears as she went back
to the fire restlessly.
not think that ne would
Well, what did 1t NATTER What was
| one mans Indifference when she could
have the alteration of all others?
II 1mt S,rt It NJ. hurt IN . some inexplicable way
even as 1t had hurt her during that in
| terminable dinner to meet his eyes, SO
hard and impersonal, and see in them
the ghosts Of what might have been,
Tranter about him, trying not to appear
| too interested.
She had found Philip eager to talk Of
his friend.
Some people don't like him. I know"
he said. But that's because they don't
know him. He's the best chap In the
world, really--the best friend I've ever
had, any way A bit hard, of course.
is to blame for that He hates the
whole lot for her sake. Oh, no, it's years
ago-he never talks about her think
Sne must De dead.
Not many men would be SO faithful"
| laughed grimly
II don't know that you can call It
faithful" he said doubtfully. THE only
time he ever really spoke Of her to me
he said that II ever the day came when
he could pay her out for what she had
done to him he would make her regret
~; but that's years agony own be-
lief Is that he has really clean forgot
She had shivered at the words. Some
how with the recent vivid memory Of
Faversham she could we'll imagine that
| he would carry out his threat.
had met, and deep down In her heart
she knew she was afraid.
And then her whole body seemed to
thrill as the ring OF a bell broke through
Fayersham was in the room. ''
She rose to her feet, conventional
words Of greeting on her lips. bat thcy
died away as she met his eyes. OF what
| she had once known so well2
You sent for me-" said Miles.
His voice was coldly polite. He looked
around nS,I1 the room; Il thought perhaps
1t was the last thing he had thought,
but It served his purpose and brought
| the blood surging to her face.
4, ha should Sa & not have asked YOU to come
IL ie Ndu Deen mere, Sne balQ, Il wanted
to speak to you-alone'
We'll. I am here"
Wont you sit DOWN. He took the
chair she indicated, and she went to her
low seat by the fire.
She sought desperately for words in
which to speak to him, but could find
| none. And now she wished she had not
sent for him. or that he had not come.
She knew she could give no reason for
having asked him: she forced her eyes
Philip says that you hate tho idea
Of his marrying me-"
The words came with a rush, as
II she spoke them against her will, and
she caught her breath, aghast at her
own temerity.
Miles was leaning a little forward,
his hands loosely clasped between his
knees, his eyes on her face.
Philip does not know that ! knew
you ten yeare ago." he said Unless
you have told him." he added.
She shook her head.
why should I tell him? Tho past is
forgotten--wiped out"
Miles shrugged his shoulders
i don't think the past can ever really
be forgotten" he said in slow delibera-
ton II used TO think so--until 1 met
you tonight"
The wavering color crept to her face.
ment7" she asked. III So, You @ 6 are o more
polite than you were at dinner"
Philip was with us at dinner"
There was a calm, passionless note in
his voice, and little shade Of suspicion
crept into her brown eyes.
AT dinner time you looked at me
as II you hated me-" she cried. II know
that you mean to try to prevent me
from marrying Philip but II. will make
no difference" She stopped, drawing
In her breath hard.
Something in the way he was looking
at her had forced her back to that eve
ming in the garden, when he had pro-
tested that he would always love her.
and she bYoke out tremblingly:
"Oh, Miles, why can't we 60 back to
days when we were happy2"
A little flicker of pain crossed his
face. and he laughed rather unsteadily.
would you be happy--even II that
were possible? l don't think you would.
You were always very ambitious. for
get how many. times you told me that
you meant to be rich and somebody
before you died"
Did II" The brown eyes were misty
as they met his, IT was very young and
foolish then. Miles"
He considered her gravely.
II don't know that you ought to call
Philip will wonder, II he hears you"
II am not married to Philip-yet,"
she answered rebelliously.
She felt oddly young and excited. This |
man seemed to have taken her back to
her girlhood, to have wiped out life as
OF her ideals in her hands again
She rushed on yehemently:
II have 80 often thought about you
and wondered what you were doing, and
IL you were married. Miles, were you
very surprised to see me this EVENING""
Miles arose to- his feet and began to
wander restlessly round the dainty