Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1924-04-09

here" decreed this Motner-tn-
Charge of a cosmopolitan pension.
Without any ill-will. with all my
sympathy and best wishes, l tell YOU
so. You, l know, mean no harm.
You sun yourself in bright eyes. l
believe that personally you have no
special choice here. But they!
You must so. Go while you are still
the dream, the foretaste of how they
are meant to be happy. 1t would be
kind if YOU left Dinard."
Archie had glanced up quickly as
she uttered the words no special
choice" Why should she have
thought that Of him? Was he such
a waverer? Had he no choice? But
OF course he had. There. closed
down upon him that mood in which
he had been wrapped during that
morning of sand-castles with Jennie
and her little chap. OF course, she
was his Choice"
He cleared his throat, met,
squarely, the eyes of the Dane-lady,
and said, Naturally if you say you
wish it. l shall leave Dinard at once.
My friends people come over next
week. But l shall so tomorrow,
Madame. AS a matter Of fact l was
going-l was moving down the
Coast"
She said quickly, "Shall you be
going near Concarneau?"
Archie, tri1e startled, Perhaps
| No! Why do | say perhaps
! know that as it happens l shall be
| going TO Concarneau.'
| He thought again, fleetingly. of
| those nine thousand francs that had
been won for him last night.
Dryly his mistress said. "Ah.
1
| might have spared YOU what l said.
l thought you came here to look, to
make yourself liked, to take moth
; ing vely seriously"
You don't give me particularly
| pleasant character" remarked the
! Rover, not without bitterness.
| His hostess finished her coffee be-
| fore she looked at him again; she
pushed aside the | little Brittany
| ware ash-ray. Then, Forgive me il
l have bored YOU" said She simply
/ and sweetly, Il am too old to have
hurt the feelings of any young man.
Archie looked back into the
| gray eyes under the showed upon
rair. The sudden thought came To
| him that it was hard luck that any
woman must grow Old and gray
| His own mother had gone over al
| twenty eight. Touched, he
found himself unbending. He rose
| in a tentative manner, spoke in an
| altered tone.
Good Heavens, haven't been
! bored But ] shall be hurt if you
! don't feel that-that it's as friends
that you say soodby to me-
She took his offered hand in cor
dial matter of-fact clasp. Whimsi-
cally. she responded. In the al
| tered circumstances, why good-by
| just yet? why not return to dine
here. Mr.. Laverock, with-the
/ others"
Might |" eagerly. You would
not mind"
j She let go his hand. gathered to-
gether her draperies, made a gesture
T. that seemed to put aside further re-
| sponsibility.
Come back" said she. "and
| spend the evening with the. Choice
if you'd like that"
| "There is something | should like
| better"
What is that. Mr.. Laverock:"
Until the others come back. let
7 me stay with YOU" he begged
! Make some of your beautiful music
just for me. Play to me. Will you
| Please"
"Ah," she exclaimed. looking up at
| him. Poor girls. Poor children
How [ can see it!-Very we'll
/ l will make music for YOU, moi"
/, She swept before him through the
| folding doors into the dim. polished
| Continental salon. She pointed to a
] chair, sat down herself before the
| great piano that, like a pool of bog
| water. reflected her ivory robes, her
| eccentric noble head.
| What do you care for? Can YOU
, endure classical music? Yes?
| Beethoven"
| NO. not Beethoven. if you don't
mind" said Archie with swift dis
! concerning memory of the Moon
light Sonata"-and Mauve. ANY
thing else I'd love"
+; Anything else that came into her
| head she played to him. She play
ed to him wondrously. until the
| others returned.
With that return of the others.
| there fell upon young Laverock.
| quite curiously and unexpectedly, n
mood that was not usual to him.
! 1t may have been the Dane lady's
! music still surged and swung in his
blood. 1t may have been that the
July evening brcathed in through
the open windows some pagan spell.
1t may have been that he felt a
| touch of that bravado that informs
| man on the eve Of his wedding
| when, among his pals. he carouses
| for the last time as free bachelor.
| with the first sight, of Genevieve's
! riquant face in the doorway he had
| told himself. Yes. There's my girl.
NO fooling about after this. No
| thinking of any other girl after to-
night"
You see the Johnnie Armstrong;
Last Good night" touch.
For then-then 1t was that he no
| gan to spend the evening in good
earnest--by flirting with dozen
girls at once: flirting delicately, I'M
mistakably and deliberately.
(EA.l..-i