The Washington times., 1924-04-11

her? From Lee Whitman? From
Barbara? They had no word she
wished to hear. For himself?
She walked to the bureau, sud-
denly deciding to remain in her
room, leaving him standing there
in the middle of the parlor. He
had no right visiting her.
She listened, wondering how
long he would wait. There was
picture of Jonathan on a small
easel against the mirror. The big,
noble eyes stared at her. She
took it abruptly and turned the
face down.
A door banged, then the silence
thickened. 1t and the heaving OF
her pulses made her uneasy. But
more than anything else it was
Jonathan's picture upside down
like that.
Weak, evasive thing she was do
sing! Why should she fear Luis
Lamarck? Let him see her ter.
ror? Let him know that he could
drive her into a panic?
With a little run she went to
the closet, grabbed her hat from
the shelf.
AS she came down the stairs,
Luis met her. He clasped her
arm. She looked straight before
her, biting her lips. When they
reached the machine, she said
abruptly. What is your mes
sage?"
The velvet brown eyes reproVed:
"Why so hasty, Miss Bryce?" lie
opened the door of his car, a long
bodied roadster, leaning over to
help her in.
She tapped her foot: mo, am
not riding with you, Mr.. Lamarck.
/ told you l have another engage
ment. But you may speak now.
No one will overhear."
A momentary spark flashed in
the soft eyes, but he said in the
warm, husky voice: That's not
very kind, Miss Bryce"
She gave no answer, but waited.
He became persuasive, then the
hand on her arm clasped and I'M
clasped gently. do you exactly
fancy Standing at a curb, Miss
Bryce? l can not explain my mis-
sion in a moment. Get in-do-we
shall only ride for half an hour"
Chickie said only: IF you wish
to speak to me, Mr.. Lamarck,
then do so--otherwise, / shall
go in"
Each moment that the mans
soft glance went over her Chickie
found it harder to stand there.
She looked down at the gravel,
scraping it with her toe. 1t was
after 5. Boarders were returning
for dinner. Each one paused;
shot furtives curious glances at
the two of them.
Luis gave his bold, purring
laugh, squeezing her arm little:
mo, really, Miss Bryce-are you
afraid of being kidnapped?"
She drew from him with aflash
of anger: Good evening, Mr..
Lamarck!'
He stared dumbfounded, swept
his hat low and got into the car.
Erect but shaking, Chickie walked
was behind the door, she dashed
her eyes binding.
She was spent; her thoughts
The amaZement on his
face as she brushed from him
daunted her. Why had she done
that? Because he had temporiZed?
Because he had tried persuasion?
She was unable to answer, yet
she felt justified.
On the following afternoon
letter came. 1t was from him.
My Dear Miss Bryce:
Perhaps ! should have better
understood your mood last eve
ming. Will you pardon my thick
ness? But I had no idea you
were so opposed to trifling nor
that you were so earnest in your
refusal. I admit that l am very
much prejudiced in my own favor
as I was extremely eager for the
pleasure of ride with you.
From our first meeting I have
wished for further acquaintance.
I did, however, have a message
and trust you will not misinter.
pref my motives. 1 am aware
that you are no longer working
for your former employer and
also that business is dull at
present. heard of a first class
position with a good salary and
easy hours and thought you
might be interested. 1t is with
George Edgeman, attorney for
the Orange Growers. You would
have salary to start with about
$3.50. I'm not sure. If you are
interested, you might call on him.
I am enclosing his card.
May see you sometime, Miss
Bryce? Perhaps we could go to
dinner. Your pleasure is mine.
Very sincerely,
LUIS LAMARCK."
Chickie read this several times.
She could find nothing insinuat-
ing, nothing to justify the cratic
anger that had swept her at their
meeting.
He might not even know:
might have no vicious thought
at all. She remembered how hot
ly she had suspected Jake in
their first meetings; how fearful
she was of his attentions. And
that day after her flight from
Sausalito, when he had met her
in the rain, forcing her into the
machine, even forcing her to
dinner with him, how wildly ex.
cited she had been!
Lamarck might have a passing
interest; might even wish to help
her. She wrote formal note of
thanks, put George Edgeman's
card in Der drawer. But she