The Wolf Point herald., 1925-03-26

| Slituu through TIE IuSHcS lldt grew
at the waters edge.
you are not vexed?' asked Miss
Benham invitingly.
"vexedl" |" exclaimed DeWolfe. with
you? God bless you, dear, no."
She looked at him gratefully, watch
ing him as she walked by his side
good deal as setter might look up to
catch a glance of approval from q
man. Peter expected no storm from
her. He knew he must pack up his
things and go back to London. This
was only fair to Benham, and certain
ly fair to Benham's sister, who had
let herself imagine so much from an
acquaintance with stray American
who inwardly believed that to live a
lifetime of Murie's program of days
and years would be close second to
a term in Jail or to having berth In
a Wall Street brokers' office. He sup
posed, however, that if not actually, at
least metaphorically, Muriel had read
a book on "How to Keep Ones Bal
ance." He did not figure upon the ex-
plosive forces which can be generated
in a conservative family, as If occa-
sionally the fundamentals of mankind
liked to show their half-concealed ex-
istence of which AL are aware, each
for himself, but never as to our ar
mored neighbor. Muriel, In fact, was
just the person the fundamental hui
man forces would pick out to give
glorious exhibition of blowing up the
crusts of restraint Peter, like most of |
us, had heard a slight crack in her |
cover, but like most of us he had end |
less faith in the strength of habit and |
conventions.
The depression which fell upon the
girl, as If a shadow cast by the dusk,
gathering about them as they came
back from Saint Dunstan's tower after
ten miles in the wind, gave no warn
ing of crisis to him. And certainly he
was under no obligation to foresee that
which the night would bring forth.
At dinner he discovered that he
could talk to Mrs. Benham: to his as
tonishment he found that behind her
beam there were a great many years
OF orderly thinking whose product, not
consumed by her family, had been put
up onto the shelf In many careful lay
erS like bolts of cloth with an unfash
ionable pattern. 1t was almost worth
while to have Muriel so silent; it was
long Byrne-Jones face with its sensi-
tive lips contrasting with her stern
eyes and be beamed upon sunnily by
the broad strong face of her mother.
Peter took delight in making this
beam expand into a laugh. He was
leaned forward toward the white-haired
widow who, with her middle-Victorian
figure, weighed at least two hundred {
pounds, Muriel stared at her mother
with a look which might have been |
the expression of jealousy.
Peter, as he chatted with Mrs. Ben ;
lam, faced the long French windows
n curved bay at the end of the din !
ng room. The floor was covered with
FERNS and fowery plants in pots, CIV
ng forth to the room at all meals that
smell of warm dark earth which fills
but just outside the re- ,
lection Of his own dinner coat on the
ong panes of the doors, there was the
,lue stone driveway of the house and
he path to the side door. Upon this ]
,ath Peter thought he had seen flash
# white. 1t might have been a refiec-
ion of his own white linen; he had
My seen this flick of movement out of 7
he corner of his eye as he put down +
is gilt coffee cup. 7
"What did you seer asked Muriel 7
7
81? Why, l thought saw white f
pot in the dark out there-like a per- 7
on's face"
Muriel stiffened. II don't know who ;
could be-" she said. Lucy, turn on ;,
ne light outside the North door"
Peter smiled, but only because he
ad thought of how red English maids
Ould be-just as red as Wallets were
'hite.
Continued Next Week.