Evening star., 1923-07-08
CONTINUED from yesterday


But you yourself?" Francis ven-
tured.
Il fancy that my reasons for pre-
ferring seclusion should be obvious
enough" she replied, a little bitterly
MY daughter is inclined. fear. 70
be a little morbid. Sir Timothy SAID
settling down in his place.
Francis made no reply A triangu-
lar conversation of this sort was al
most impossible. The members of the
orchestra were already climbing up
to their places. in preparation for the
overture to the last act. Sir llmothS
rose to his feet.
You will excuse me for a moment.
he begged. II see a lady to whom l
must pay my respects"
Francis drew a sigh of relief at his
departure. He turned at once to his
did You mind my coming" he
asked.
Mind it?" she repeated. with al
most insolent nonchalance. why
should 1t affect me in any way? My
fathers friends come and 60 L have
no interest in any of them"
But" he protested, II want you to
be interested in me:
She moved a little uneasily in her
place. Her tone. nevertheless, re-
manned icy.
could you possibly manage to
avoid personalities in your conver-
sation, Mr.. Ledsam?" she begged
Il have tried already y,,ia to tell yon
| how l feel about such things
She was certainly difficult. Francis
realized that with little sigh.
Were you surprised to see me
! with your father" he asked, a little
! namely.
| Il cannot conceive what you two
have found in common" she admitted.
4
replied. 'By-the-bye, / have just
seen him perform a quixotic but a
livery fine action" Francis said. He
stopped a carter from thrashing his
| horse, knocked him down, bought
| the horse from him and sent IT
home"
/ She was mildly interested.
! AN amiable side of my father's S
| character which no one would sus-
pect," she remarked. THE entire
End is given over to broken down
| II am one Of those" he confessed,
"who find this trait amazing"
| And 1 am another" she remarked
seriously to try and understand my
| father, he would need the spectacles
of De Quincy, the outlook Cf a
VoItaire. and the callousness of a
Borgia. You see. he doesn't lend
| himself to any of the recognized
standards.
! Neither do you,' he said boldly.
| She looked away from him across
the house to where Sir Timothy was
talking to a man and woman in one
| of the ground-f1oor boxes. Francis
AN agricultural duke and his
daughter, Lady Cynthia Milton, one
of the most beautiful and famous
young women in London.
Your father goes far afie1d for his
! friends" Francis remarked.
! MY father has no friends" she re-
piled. He has many acQuaintances
l doubt whether he has a single con-
| fidant. l expect Cynthia is trying to
persuade him to invite her to his
| next party at The Walled House."
Il should think she would fail,
won't she?" he asked
| Why should you think that"
Francis shrugged his shoulders
| slightly.
Your fathers entertainments have
the reputation of being somewhat
unique" he remarked. "You do not,
by the bye, attend them yourself"
You must remember that 1 have
had very few opportunities so far"
| she observed. Besides, Cynthia has
tastes which I do not share"
"As, for instance?"
She goes to the National Sporting
Club. She once travelled, know
| over a hundred miles to go to a bull
fight
"On the whole" Francis said, .T
am glad that you do not share her
tastes"
You know herr" Margaret in
quired.
"Indifferently WELL" Francis re-
piled. Il knew her when she was q
child, and we seem to come together
every now and then at long intervals.
As a debutante she was charming
Lately 1T seems to me that she has
got into the wrong set.
What do you call the wrong set?"
He hesitated for a moment
please don't think that l am lay
] ing down the law" he said. Il have