The Washington times., 1921-12-12
The Wine of Life
STORY OF AN AMBITIOUS YOUNG SCULPTOR

ing through the skylight with its
undrawn shadow-cloth.
" This sense of escape, Of sudden
ly acquired breathing space, re-
manned with him even after he had
dispatched what impressed him AS
an overlong and Inadequate tele-
gram to Charlotte Kirkner and had
settled himself in the train for
Swansea-on-the-Sou He forgot
the WEAKNESS which an hour be-
fore had seemed anchored in his
very bones.
1t was a long time. he remem-
bered. since he had been in the
country. All the earlier years of
his life had been linked with the
open. He was, in a way, a son of
the wilderness. Life, for hip, had
never really struck root through
the concrete that floored the city
of his adoption. And the larger
sanities of sun and wind and hill
top spaciousness would always be
calling to him.
A Fine Day.
1t was a crystalline February-end
afternoon of open sunlight, with
the earth bald Of ice and snow.
Once the raw and ugly husk of the
city's suburbs had been left we'll
behind he found himself confronted
by lumber hills notified with pale
green that stretched away to an
opal skyline, lumber hills with only
the occasional monstrosity of gaudy-
hued sighboards to remind one of
the city adjacent.
There was cool and mellow
LII. L.. a.
broken swamplands. and already
the wintry willows wore a crown
of vivid yellow. There was an al
most bewildering wash of light
above the tangled laceries of the
treetops. And always before him
was a suave and receding sky, sus
gestive Of distances infinitely re-
mote, as disquieting and provoca-
tive as the silver-sweet challenge
of ever-vanishing and invisible
bugles. 1t came fully home to him,
for the first time in months, that
he had been missing something
both stabilizing and momentous out
Of life.
When Storrow alighted at Swan
sea he found Charlotte awaiting
him, thanked by what he took to
be footman in uniform, with u
fur-lined rug draped over one arm,
and a chauffeur equally statuesque.
But 1t was a Charlotte somewhat
different to the Charlotte he had 20
recently and so laboriously fabri-
Gated in his own mind.
She was both less subdued and
less funeral-looking than he had ex-
pected. She stood before him. I'M
mistakably In the sombre black Of
full mourning, but with a quiet
eyed self-possession which did
something more than merely pro-
claim that the last of her girlish-
ness was gone.
Over the Hills.
1t served also as an announce
ment that she in her own way had
known sorrow and in her own way
had risen superior to It. There was.
in fact. no tremor In her voice as
she shook hands with him and
thanked him for coming.
shall we send the car home"
she asked In her clear and reedy
voice, land walk back across the
hills7''
Yes, let's walk back" Storrow
said to her. His eyes followed her
as she turned to speak to the chauf-
feur in the fur-trimmed service
coat. II the dark dress under the
equally dark furs was Enthusiastically
simple, II was the simplicity of dis.
tinction. an ordered and doubly art
full austerity which resulted in n
final impression of richness.
CTo BE Continued Tomorrow
Copyright, 1890, by Arthur stringer
published by Arrangement With Inter
national Feature Service. Ino.)