Evening star., 1925-10-18
Continued from Yesterdays Star.)

"Oh, now and then, mayoe, and
when l come back, Rollin," he added
with a smile, you shall render me
an accounting of your stewardship
Good night, Doris. dear. Goodnight
Rolln, old boy" He gripped both
the door he turned once more and
beamed upon them. You two dear
people," he said, Il love you both and
always shalt" With that he was gone
Waterman turned uncomfortably to
ward the girl.
'Rollin, oh. Rollin. Rollin." she
whispered brokenly, as she slipped
again into his arms. II can't be
lieVe it. | can't believe it."
CHAPTER vi
Stanley plunged down the steps as
the heavy door closed behind him.
and hurried blindly across the Ave
nue.. 1t had begun to rain and he
turned up his collar, thrust his hands
deep into his pockets, and began to
walk beneath the elms that lined the
eastward border of the park.
There was tumult in his brain. He
had not expected defeat. Not
that he nourished any overween'
Ing estimate of his personal attrac-
tious, or that he regarded them
as in any way superior to those of
his friend. on the contrary, In his
eyes Waterman was quite the best
looking man of his acquaintance, the
most winning and the most agreea BILE.
Yet Doris had always been to him
everything that was kind and SYM
pathetic and understanding. He had
never. it is true, made love TO her
directly, yet she must have known.
he thought, what he thought of her.
and being uncommonly intelligent, she
must have guessed that before very
long he would ask her to be his wife.
Yet. knowing this, yes, and knowing
that on that very evening she was
to see him, she had nevertheless, with
his step almost at her door. accepted
his rival and his friend. Yes, 1t was
a deliberate choice-there could be
no possible doubt of that-deliberate
and final.
He had no suspicion whatever Of the
truth. BY no conceivable means could
he possibly have guessed the devious
route by which WatermanS success
had been achieved. He could not know
the sudden shock TO which the girls
whole nature had been subjected, nor
how much she suffered at the convic-
tion of his turpitude. He could not
know that Doris in her suffering had
unconsciously, blindly. put out her
hand, yearning for comfort, and had
taken, almost without knowing It.,
the only comfor' that offered itself.
Few things are so difficult to ex-
plain in this world of inexplicable
things Is the ties which bind men and
women together. But large per-
centage of otherwise obscure alliances
are undoubtedly the result of what
wo may caIl the rebound. Many d sor-
rowing widoWer Is so swiftly remar-
rled that the tears of mourning are
srsrcely dried upon his cheeks. His
friends are shocked. He has so soon
forgotten. The truth is that his second
marriage is not the result of swift
forgetting, but of too deeply and too
painfully remembering. 1t is an in
stinctive gesture of self-defense. 1t is
perhaps q first-class example of what
is known in medical literature. as
counterirritation, or, in the field of
aesthetics, the obscuration of one emo
ton by the application of another.
No suspicion OF all this crossed or
could cross the mind of the stricken
Stanley His nature was of the sim
ples' and most direct. Life had been
100 easy for him. Everything had
been plain sailing. This was the first
great shock of his life and 1t shook
1t must be admitted that the notion
crossed his mind as he strode blind
ly beneath the dripping elms that the
Idea of this double proposal might
have been trifle too quixotic. He
wondered whether, if he had never
suggested it. he might not even now
have been the accepted, not the re-
1ected. suitor. But this idea he
promptly put aside. The result would
Doris was not the sort of girl to be
won or lost by any trivial chance.
ReSolutely, consciously. he en-
deavored to put the past behind him.
He would burn all his bridges, sink
all his boats. Yes, that was the thing
Immediately he burned with the wish
to be gone. He waved his hand at
passing taxi whose driver pulled up
so sharply that his rear wheels skidded
slightly against the curb. Ten minutes
later, in his own apartment, he was
telephoning:
lis that you, Wilson?-Yes. yes, I'm
lucky TO find you in on d Saturday
night. Something unexpected has come
up. I've got to make many plans of
Importance with a good deal Of speed.
Were you planning to leave town over
Sunday? No? You're quite sure?
Good, then I shall ask you for
once to give up your day OF
rest and meet me at the Office
in the ling at IL o'clock.-Al
right. Good bye"
Looking back upon that night in
after years Stanley could never re-
member exactly how it passed. He
had confused recollection of the
streets of New York cleaning wet
and lambent under the lamp-a pano-
rama of fac~s at the club, sounds of
more or less familiar voices, the flick
of cards. the tinkle of glasses-a night
or troubled dreams and restless sleep.
of pacing to and fro, of the pale advent
of dawn through his eastward looking
windows, a hasty breakfast scarcely
touched. the sound of the early church
bells pealing over the chimney tops,
automatic donning of his clothes
finally the office.
Nothing in New York is so greatly
changed in outward aspect as the
business district on Sunday. All this
struck Wilson forcibly as he walked
lcisurely southwark from his tWo-room
apartment in Greenwich Village on his
way to keep this most unusual ap-
pointment with His employer. So still.
so sleepy seemed the city, with it's
labyrinth of canyons deep-seated be-
meath those towering walls, 1t was
like an enchanted city. created the
day before by some magician, made
populouS by the wave of his wand,
and as suddenly at his changing whim
stricken into silence and desertion.
Such mild reflections passed through
Wilson's mind as he strolled peace
fully down Broadway, meeting only
"A rare trolley car and an occasional
policeman, and now and then a pedes-
trian who, like himself. seemed
strange, out of place and impressed
with the unfamiliarity of the scene
He found Stanley already at his
desk, engaged in sorting out a heap
of papers.