New-York tribune., 1921-01-22

der and paint and even beyond smok-
ing cigarettes. When her husband told
her that he must make a brief bust
ness trip to England she asked to be
excused from accompanying him on
the ground that she would prefer to
remain in Paris for while. AS 9
matter of fact, she planned to 20 to
Spain. And she did. She went to a
house party at the home Of DON Arturo
Valda Moncado, Marques de Burgos.
She had been told that it was to be
house party, but when she got to
the isolated little castle on the top of
the crag she found no one but Don
Arturo Valda y Moncado, Marques de
burgos. No sooner had she arrived
than q storm began to rage and the
last mule coach went down the noun
tain. She must stay the night! Still,
after her first wild pleadings that he
allow her to Chamber down the noun
tain alone at night until she could
find hotel, reasonable in price and
respectable, she did not feel so lonely
with Arturo. To be sure, he sounded
good deal like house party all by
himself, and more than that she loved
him.
After dinner he began to make love
and spon she Joined him. He grew
lmpassoned, and Elsie said that she
would throw in her lot with his and
never leave him. In transport of ioy.
Arturo was about to bestow upon her
one of those Spanish kisses which no
novelist can round off in less than a
page and half. Elsie commanded him
to be patient. First, she said, she
must write letter to her husband
In this moment Arturo was superb in
his Latin restraint. He did not sup-
gest a cablegram or even a special
delivery stamp. Perhaps it would have
meant death to go to the postoffice on
such night. Elsie wrote to Robert.
painstakingly and frankly, confessing
that she loved Arturo and was going
to remain with him and that she would
not be home at all any more. Then a
sure footed serving man was intrusted
with the letter and told to seek a
post box on the mountain side.
No sooner was that out of the wav
than a Spanish peasant entered the
Eouse and shot Arturo. 1t seems that
Arturo had betrayed his daughter. The
shot skilled Arturo and Elsie wished
she had never sent the letter. I'm.
fortunately, you can't make your con-
fession and eat it too. No postscript
was possible. Elsie staggered down
the mountain side and chapter later
she woke up in hospital in Bordeaux
The strain had been too great
Nor could we stand it either. We
sought out somebody else who had al
ready read the book and he told US that
Elsie went back to America and found
her husband, and that for months and
months she lived in an agony Of
shame. thinking he knew all about
what had never happened. Finally
she decided that he didn't, and then
she lived months and months in an
agony of fear that the letter was still
on its way. She got up every morning.
opening everything feverishly and find-
ing only bills and advertisements. At
this point the person who knew the
story was interrupted in telling US
about it, but we think we can supply
the end.
After more months and months. in
which first shame died and then fear.
hope was born. And then came happi-
ness. The old hunted look faded from the
eyes OF Elsie. She seemed a superbly
normal woman. save in one respect.
During the political campaign of 1920,
wien practically every visitor who
came to the house would remark. at
one time or other during the course
Of the evening, s"Dont you think this
man Burleson 10 q mess? :" Elsie would
look up with just tho suggestion Of
a faint smile about her fine, sentative
mouth and answer "Oh, DONE know"