Barnwell sentinel. (Barnwell C.H., S.C.) 185?-1925, September 27, 1917, Image 2
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MOI SIX
SOUTH CAROLINA
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THE PRINCE OF SEYRE A/ID CALAVERA, THE DANCER,
: Conspire to entice.John strangewey from his
HONORABLE LOVE 6F DAINTY LOUISE MAUREL
*' '-t
±s
./ f Synopsis.—Louise Muurefi famous actress, making a motor tour <>t
x^-aj Eugfimd, was obliged, when her car broke down-, to spend the
M i ff m ut the ancestral Jionu* of Stephen and .TfihnStrangewey, bachelor
.wurnuu-hater*, iu Um Gumi>erfund district. Before she left the next day
she hart captivated John. Three uionthK lat«*r he went to London and
fiiwikei her MP* She introduced bin) to berfrUjod* among them Grid l Jot, ^
n playwright, and Sophy Gerard, .u. light-hearted little actres*. John. '
puritanical in his viow,s' entered the guy Bohemian life of the city with
enthusiasm. It was. soon soeti that John and the prince of Seyrd were ■
^ptyals- f,or tin; heart pad hapd of Louise. Sophy also loved John
i#cccetly.. . J
XII.
5c
CHAPTER
—7— ■ .
Rfype House was oqe of the few znan-
sio^s in London which boasted a ban
queting hatt as well as a picturegal
lery,. .Although the long table was.laid
for forty guests it .still seemed, with
its shaded lights and Its yrofusiou of
flowers, J,lke un oasis of color iu the.
middle of thu huge, somberly lighted
a|>urtU)ent. n Souju of Jbe fac»*s of tlu*
gursffs were well-known to John
through their published* photogruphs;
to Others, he had Wn presented by
the prince upon their arrival; He w as
seated between a young American star
of muslcul cotuedi' and a lady who had
only recently dropped from the se
rial iirn«ua«Ait -thvuuoli the. medium of She was
the divorce court. Uvrcturn to the the
ater of her earlier fame. Both showed
every dekire to converse with him be*
tween the intervals of eating and
driuking, -Wit were constantly brought
to a pause by John's lack of knowledge
of jcurxunt topics. After her third
glass of champagne, the lady who had
recently been u cobntess announced
her intbntion of taking him under her
wing. .. .1 , , ;•
“Someone must tell you till about
things." she insisted. “What you need
Is a guide and A chaperon. Won't 1
do?"
“Perfectly," he agreed. X_
“Fair ploy!" protested the young
lady on his left, whose name was Rosie
Sharon. “I spoke to 1dm first!"
“Joliy bad luck!" . Lord Amerton
drawled from the other side of the
table. “Neither of you have an earth
ly. lie’s booked. Saw him out with
her the other evening."
“I sha’n’t eat any more supper."
Rosie Sharon pouted, pushing nway
her plate.
■“You ought to have told .us about
her at once.” the lady who had been a
countess declared severely.
John preserved his «H|uaniinif.v.
“It is to be presumed.” he murmured.
“thut you ladies are both free from
any present attachment?"
“Got you there!" Amerton chuckled.
“What nhput Billy?"
Rosie Sharon sighed.
“We don’t cbnje to the prince's sup
per parties.to remember our ties,” she
declared. "Let’s all gtvon talking non
sense, please. Even if qny heart is
broken, I could never resist me prince’s
patal"
Apparently everyone was of the
same mind. The hum of laughter stemX
lly grew. I’nder shelter of the' tire
of conversation, the pripce leaned tc>-
i the door at the further end of the
cooni cniuo a dimly scan tljpire in white.
The place seemed wrapped in a mys
tical twilight, with long black rays of
deeper shadow lying,across the'floor.
There was a little murmur of tensy
voices, and then again silence.
For n fpw moments the figure in
•white was motionless. Then, without
any visible commencement, she seemed
suddenly to blend into the waves of ® . seemed suddenly to have he
low, passionate music. The dnnee it*
* 7T TT
fetch mo some, and.-bring it' to me
yourself?”
She sank hack upon a divan as
spoke. John turned to leave the room,
btrt.she called him back.
“Gome hert\” she invit<'d i “close to
my side I I can wait, for the chuin-
pagut;. Tell inc, why you are so silent?
And my darieing—-that pleased you?"
He felt the words stick 1 Jn his throat.
“Your dancing was indeed wonderful,"
he stamnmred.
“It wf a for you 1" she whispered, b (i r
voice growing softer and lower. ^ “it
was for you I danCed. T)Id you not feel
it,?”
Her arms stole townni him. The un
natural calm with which she had fin
ished her dance seemed suddenly tq
pass. Her bosom was rising and fall
ing more, quickly. There was a fair.t
spot of color in her cheek.
. “It was wonderful," he told her. “I
will get you the champagne.”
. Her lips were parted. Shy smiled
up at 1dm.
“Go quickly," she whjspered. - “and
comeback quickly! I wait for you."
He left thb room .and passed ont
jrgiiln into the picture gallery before
he hud llte least idea where he wys.
The baud was playing u waltz, and
one or two couples wore dancing. , The
Louise looked
riou*
T \
s«*lf was without form or definite move
ment. She si'cmerf at first tike some
white, limbless spirit, floating here and
there across the dark bars of. shadow
at the calling of the melody. Thor*
was no apparent effort of file body.
M
i
t
r-
ward his companitm <»nd reopened their
previous discussion.
“Do you know,” lie be^an. "1 am in-
cliqed to lie somewhat disappointed by
your lack of enthusiasm in a eVrfain
(hryetion!” ,
“I have disii|)pointed many mfen in
my tinn*” slie lt-plietl. “IJa^tiu doubt
my jwtwer. now' that l -have promis«sl
to exercise it?" "X v • ' ,
“Who could ?>Tie rtplied courteously.
“Yet this young man poses. 1 believe,
as something of q StT Anthony, lie
nifty give vt.m trouble."
- “He is tlien. w hat you call.a prig?"
“A most complete and perfect-speci
men. even iu this nation of prigs!,’’
“All that you tell me.” she sighed,
“makes the enterprise'seem easier. It
Is, after all. rather like the lioness and
the mouse, isn't it?" v
The prince made, no reply, hut upon
his lips there lingered a faintly incred
ulous smile.. The wnjmiri IYK bide j
leaned back, in her place.' She bad i
the^air. of accepting the Challenge,
“Asupper." she said, “we will
see!”
/, A singit (JtHnt-of music in .a minor'!
key floated- r.Li-dss the Boom, -soft at
first, swelling JaterHtito a volume Jif
sound, then dying avv-ay-and ceasing
«Jtog etlier. Every light msjthe place
jwas suddenly extinguished. There re
shape. It was like thd flitting of a
white moth through the blackness of r u
moonless summer night.
But her ’motions grew more unl-
niuted. more human. With feet which
seemed never to meet the earth, she
glided toward the corner where John
was standing. He caught the' smolder
ing Ore in her eyes as sin* danced with
in a -few-feet of him. He felt catch in
his breath. Some subtle and only half-
expressed emotion shook.his whole be
ing. seemed to tear at the locked cham
ber of his soul. ~
She had flung her arms forward, so
near that they almost tduehed him.
He could have sworn that her lips had
called his name. Fie felt himself be
witched. tilled with an insane. longing
to throw out his arms In'response to
her passionate, unspoken invitation. In
obedience to tlie elumoring of his seeth
ing senses. He hud forgotten, even,
that anyone else wuh in the room.
Tin'll. isudd« hlv, the music stopped';
The lights flared out from the celling
and from every corner of the apart
ment. Slender and erect, her arms
hanging limply nt her sides, without a
touch of color In her cheeks or n coil
of her block hair disarranged, without
a sign of heat or disturbance or pas
sion in her face, John found Aida
C’alavera standing within a few feet
of him, her eyes seekipg for his. She
laid hep fingers upon-his arm. The
room was ringing with shouts ,of ap
plause, in whlph John unconsciously
joined. Everyone was trying to press
forward toward her. With her left
hand she waved them back.
"If I have pleased, you,” she said, “I
;im so glad! 1 go now to rest for a
little time.” \
• . '
£llP tightened her clasp upon her
companion's arm. and they passed out
of thKjm ture gallery and down a long
come like puppets in some strange,
unreal dream. He felt an almost fever
ish longing for the-,open air, for a
long draft of the fresh sweetness of
the night,,'far away from this over
heated atmosphere charged with un-
nanmhle things. •
As in* passed through the. Tartlier
doorway he cume face to face with
' Hu* prince.
“Where are £OU going?” the latter
! asked. —-—
“Mademoiselle Cal.avera has asked
me to get her some champagne," he an
swered. »
The prince smiled.
"I will see that it is sent to her .at
once." he promised. “You are in my
sanctum, are you not? You eftn pursue
your tete-n-tete tlfefe without inter
ruption. "You are very much envied.”
“Mademoiselle Caluvera is there,"
John replied. As for me, I am afraid
I shall have to go now."
The smile faded from the prince’s
lips. His eyebrows cume slowly to
gether.
“You are leaving?” he repeated.
“I must!” John Insisted. “I can’t
help if. Forgive my behaving like a
boor, but I must go. Good night F’
The prince stretched out his hand,
but he was too late,
j’ John fo'umt'-'hiinself. after a few
minutes’ hurried walking, in Picca
dilly. He turned abruptly down Duke
street and made his way to St. James’
park. From here he walked slowly
eastward. When he reached the j
Strand, however, the storm in Ids soul ■
was still .-unabated. He turned away
from the Milan. The turmoil of his
passions drove him to the thoughts
of flight. Half an hour later he en
tered St. Pancras station.
“What time is the next train north
tovKendul of Carlisle?” he inquired.
The porter stared at him. John’s
evening clothes were spattered with
mtld, the raindrops„,were glistening on
his coat and face, and his silk hat w ; as
ruined. It was. not only Ids cTofhVs,
however, which attracted the man’s at
tention. There was the strained look
i»f a fugitive in John's face, a fugitive
flying from some threatened fate.
"The'newspaper train a* five thirty
X the earliest, sir." ho said. “I don't
ft l 1 i 1 , ■ , i | ( ' ! . , , j ;; ,
ich had brought a frown to her
T. ir’v i l |j • t, 1 p .-..flf- >.)y
, “There* hr flo doubt BbOut it," she tie*
elded, “Louise is eiffa^gyht.!" m
The door qponejl, afulLoni.fe herself,
in a gray t morning gown of* some soft
.material, with a hunch dr fieep-red
rosfs at her waist, ’lbb^ed’ Into ill*
roohi. ,"i r jj ■ p i i *\
‘^Vhy, little i girl,V ^sbe exclaimed,
“how long have you been licrc?"
i “All the morning,” Sophy replied, "I
took the dogs out, tufd than I started
on your housekeeping book and the
bllhq'- Your checks? All I liaie t<> be
l.'ifgcf than ever this month, Louise,
and I don’t fih* limvtybu ettnf posHibt>
draw tliein -unloss .^yp go) qtaj ^ee your
baqkefs first.” . , ,
k Iatlttls^ threw -bcrgelf into 'an easy
chair.
“Dear me!*’ she sighed. ! “I thOugb : t
I'hod been, so careful!" .> .,
, v *"3 / •'
"How caD ;ybti tatk.bhout being care*
ful?" , Sophy, prot^bjd* IflPfilns tliq
pile of bills with lu r jfprefinger; “You
seem to be overdraw n already..” " . {
“I will see to tW/ tJbiiso promts^.
“The bttnk manager is such a chatm-
fhg person. Besidek, what arc* banks,
for bnt to oblige' their clients? H9W
pale you look, little fflrl! • Were you
out late last night?" i ’ fiM .’.1
Sophy swung around in' her place.
-‘‘I am all right. I spent tlie evening
ill my rooms and wept to bed at eJeScn
o’clock. ^ Who’s lwRchlng with you? I
see the table Is laid for two.”
Louise glanced at the clock upon the
mantelpiece.
"Mr. Strangewey." she replied.; “I
suppose he wifi be here in a minute or 1
two.” V '
' Sophy dropped tlie housekeeping
book and Jumped up.
“I’d better go, then.” 1
“Of confsi* not," Louise answered.
“You must stay to lunch. Bing the
hell and tell them to lay a place for
you. Afterward, if you like, you may
come in here and finish brooding o\er
these wretched bills while Mr, Strango-
we.v talks to me,"
Sophy came suddenly\across Hit'
room and sank on the floor at Louise s
feet.
“What are you going to do nlioyt Mr.
! Strangewey, Louisi*?’’ she asked w ist
fully. - - - V
she greeted him, His fnek showed few
signs of the struggle fhftmgb wblctrltr
had passed; but the ffrhu fedlti
lips reminded her; a fitttr
/brother, lie had lost, too, something
oi Um- Uoyishiicaa. the. aimpic. Jifibfe,
heartedness of the-day before. In-
begbn. "^beasked film no filing about
tlie ‘sniper. and Sophy, quick to
follow her lead, also avoided the
ject*; ' :
Euncheotf whs not' a lengthy meuLi
aiaf lnmiedlately its service ;wBs tppt
WuduU, Sojijiy re>seTocher, (eft .with, a
, , ; \.
lared not analyze. Perhaps, after all
rthere-xvere still sc-,
■et rtmmhert?, She thought almost
b fear of what they might contain.
Her sense of /superiority was, vanish
ing. Shc’Vas,
after all, like other-/:. /--/ -
ir^prmnisetlr “I will -help.
at thaL Some ( day w .
you shall talk tjr>again, if JPU like.
are hoth '
fret'. You httve nof known many wourt
enTjiind you. may cluvojc yonr ouindy, .
whcii you have been Irtngerln Lpndon. 1 '
.Perhipfel it C!>fe better, for you if
you 1 do!”
“Tlwt iAquity- impossible,” John sa-id 1
he went on.dook-. /
I know:
ruusi; gq-.iand finish my wTtrk-” sfie
declared.' “Let ttie hate the den to m'y-
s&t ?T6r at'least ^in h<mf! pleasivLOu-
It will take hie longer than tirntti
to muddle through your bi«>Vb’’ • * it
Iftoulse ,le^ the way u^stgir^ into thp (
coo|, white i^rawhng room, with its
ilowc^-perftih^d atmosphiT*
delic&Te, !shoiloWy,fllr'’of Vepose. 'She Lbe pofflble that vvitfi her brains, her;
* '- v 1 — * -*' 1 ' r ^xjierienqc, t thi,s mail \Vho had dwelt alii
his lifts In tli* single ways luid yet thq..
powbr trt show heritho path toward thq>
greater-things!>.'She felt like a .ehlbij-'
hgaSn. She.’ trymbled a_ little us she
sat ik»>vp by lijs^sldy. It was not in
firnfly.. “Ypju Spe.
jatjtgr with shining eyes,
10$)# what I half bolievedTrtpnThe fti*st i .
mothc'nt that V Tsaw you../1 love you!.'/
^bringing restlessly to her feet, sliej
v^hlfecd. Across Jhe, .room and back
again. of, some sort seemed lih-
pgrqtivft. A .qqmus .Iiyimotlc feeHugi
.seemed to *bf ‘durtlflg all her powers
of reslAhttpA Fh* Vioked Into her lifei . > ■ *
a‘ht l J''die was terrified. Everything ha<h
'kfbwn Inslgntficgnh, It couldn't really*
1
curled hersolf 1 upi ini,a cornier :«f: ?ll*
(H van, and gave J^fin his cotre*'^- Then
she burned back and lobltcd at him.
“So ivou luivp reully -001111' lo London,
Mr. Countryman !” ' 1
. “1 have fflflowhd yonu,*’ li* irfiswerted.
“I think you kue\V that I would,u
trlcjd not to»!* Ju^wtent on, after a
meiit’g pansy, y.“i flight, ugifiuiit it.
hard 43 I cyuld; bqt in tin* cud L had
to’give*In. 1 came ioc, you
would, ilithis fusldon that Vile hiVd inti'll (led to
IrtHif \Vhat he had to say.
“I don’t^kiMw what Is the matter
With Wday/’ she murmurefi dX
lrtt.qtedly«, “t think I must send‘yon:
adtedly,, “Jr thin:
;.^'Loiiise's iAipiU-ity'^Kr fcncfri^ 5?ecrned r| l ltlW v- f distu'fb my thought*. I
suddenly enfeebled. A fr«*nt«1 attack f see life clearly. Dent hope
Such directness was Irresistible*
“For , no!’J she reftif^ed. weakly*! .
‘‘Of course,’’, he pepliqd, “No^e of
ymir arguments wopld have brought
me here.’ If J have desired to nrtder-
stuod this world tu all, it & bt»Cause It
“What am I going to do about liim?’^
“He Is in love with you,” Sophy con
tinued. “I am suf«'—I am almost sure
of it.”
Louise’s laugh was unconvincing,
“You foolish child!” she exclaimed.
“I believe that you have been worry
ing. AVhy do you think so, much aliout
other people?"
“Please tell me.” Sophy begged. “I
want to understand how things really
ire of Hi*
are between you and John Strangewey, ^ u1, rh sSlou;it «*,. Slu* vpeii* d her lips,
“hutL said nothing. ShV felt herself
“Go Quickly, and Come Back Quickly.
I Wait for You.”
corridor. John felt
walking in a dream.
as if Iq* w.ere
Volition siHihied
mained only the shaded lamps over- to have left him. lie only knew that
hand upon his .arm
jse burning into' ids
hanging the pictures.
Not a- whisper was heard..in
room, John, looking around him in
astonishment, was conscious only of
the half-suppressed breathing of the
men and women who lined the walls,’, or
were still standing in little groups at
the end of the lo^g hall. Again there
chine the music, this' time merged in t*sanctum,” she murmured. “Beft
• low but insistent clamor of other In- * dunce, I drink nothing hut water,
strumeufts. Then, suddenly, through ! want some • champagne. Will you
know v. hethiT you .can get to Kendal
by it, but it styps-at (’arlisle.” -• 1
.TohnJookod nt the dock. There was 4
nn hour to wail, lie' wandered jibopt
the station, gloomy, chill, deserted.
The place sickhned him. and hf* strolled
out into Yhe strebfs again. By cHancc*'
la* left tlie>Lqtion by lip* same exit
as on the day <iOd,s arrival, in London,
lie slopped short. -"X\ - .
now could h*' hiiv*' forgotten, even
for a moment? This was not tlfe^worhl
which h*■ had' come, to discover. This,
'ya-s ju-i some plagiit---sp<it upon wbrt-h
be had : uinl'-lcil. Thi oiigTi the inii/ky
«t;AVn tniil a-ro,.; dn-iugiv 'streets lie
01 died into Louise's •Irawing-foom. Sin''
would, be there -v.ditlng for lijjn *m
the yiorrow! • '
Louise! The thdught of her was
a#
like a -sweef. purifying /stimulant. ILy
f*'lf the, : tbiobbi.g of his nt'rves
soothed. He felv-himq'lf.growing calm.
The. tern»r <»f tb<- last few hours u-hs
like n nigl)tmarie which lunTpadsed. He
sutomi tn (1 a taxicab iynd was driVen to
the Ariluti^ ’ Hi's wand, r/ngs for the
night were over/
■ CHAPTER XIII. ’ - .
Sophy Gerard sat in the little hack
room of Louise's house, which the l;it-
called iter den. but which she sel-
Are you in love with him?’
Louise’s eyes.were soft and dreamy.
“I wish I knew,” she answered. “If
I am, then there are things in life
more wonderful than I have ever
dreamed of. He doesn't live in our
world—and our^ world, as you know,
has its grip.- lie knows nothing about
ray art, and you-can guess whut life
would be to me without that. What r .
future could there be for him and for f f lose U P t0 ] ‘’’ r si<i,v
me together? I cannot remake niy-J knovv that 1 lo\cd yuu. Louise.
self.” ■*“
Unresisting, She Felt th
\ Kisses.
is your wqrld.- It is you I,want—dmVt
you uatlcrsfand that? 1 thought yiuf
would knoYvNt from the first moment
you Saw me !”
Her was suddervly on his, feet, lean
ing over her. a changed man. master-
Xjqo jnjiuch’' fjWrTnkf,’* she beggetL- “but
don|t L gh away,* she added, with n sud
den Irresistible impulse of anxiety.
’“Oli, I wish—I wish you understood
■had' everything about me, without my
having to say,a word!”
,*T feel whut you are,” he answered,
“und that is sufficient.” ,, , ■*
(>nce mdrq sbt' lose $q lu»r feet
Walked across to the wlrnbVw. An au-
j ’tornobiie had stopped In the street, be-
_ l low. She looked down upon iF with
i n sudden frozen feeling v of apprehen
sion. . i .. - ^
John moved to her. side, and for him,
too, the joy of those few moments was
clouded. A little shiver of presenti--
tnent took Its place. lie recognized the
footman wliofn he saw standing upon
the pavement. \
“It is the prince of Seyrc,” Louise
faltered. ’ -- -
“Send him away,” Jolin -Tioggeil.
“We haven’t finished yeT. 1 won’t say
anything tiiore to upA^byou. What I
want now is some-practical guidance.”
C‘I cannot send him away !” ‘
John ghfnced toward her and hated
himself for his fierce Jealousy. Slw
.was looking very white and very pa
thetic. The light had gone from her
eves. lie felt suddenly dominant, and.
■f—Sf-- - -1 ^ --
with tlu.it-feeling. tluTe TttmO all tno
generosity of the.conqueror.
“Good-by!” lie said. “Porhups 1 cun v
see you sometime tomorrow.
He raised her hand to his lips and
kissed her fingers, one t>y one. -Then
he left the room. She listened to his
footsteps descending the stairs, firm,
n'solute. deliberate. They paused.
was„the sound of voices;—the
t>rln(*e x nnd' he were exchanging greet
ings ; tn>i\ she heard other footsteps
ascending, ngb tcr < smoother, yet just
as deliberate.
Her face grew paler as she listened.
There was something which sounded
to her almost like the heating of fate
in the slow, inevitable approach of
this unseen visitor. *
<r
'f4*
v.
u
There was Jt'ornel hing in Sophy’s face
that was almost likV wonder. —
“So this is‘tlie meaning' of tin*
change in yon,'Louise! 1 knew that
something had happened. You have
seemed so different for the last few'
months.”
Louise nodded.
“London has never been the same
place to me since I tirst met him in
Cumberland,” she admitted. “Sonic-
times I think.,I am—to use your own
vcbrds-—in love, with John. Sometimes
,.,.,l,.,l,'.ee,l,,i,t.4s just a queer, indistinct, but
- (-wissionate appreciation of the abstract
| beauty of tlie life he. seems to stand-
for.” » 3.
“Is he really so good, I wonder?
Sophy asked 1 pensively. - / n
“I 'tlo not know,” Louise sighed; “I
only 1.now that .when I first talked to
him, .he seemed different from any
man 1 have ever spoken with In my
life, I suppi^se there are few temp
tations up'mofe, and they keep nearer'
l.o the Jdg things. Sonietimes^Jf won-
der, dSopiry.^’if it'was not very wrong,
of me to draw.him away from it all !”
.“TiuhltfshT” Sophy, declared. “If .he
is good, lie can prove it and know it-
liere. lie will come to know the truth
about himself. Besides, it isn't every
thing to possess tlie standard'Virtues.
Louise, he will be here iu a minute.
You want to be left alone with him.
What are you going to say when he
asks you what you know lie will ask
^lifted up, clasped for a moment in his
arms. Unresisting, she felt the tirg. of
hik kisses. Tlie world seemed to have
stopped. *Ylicn she tried to push, him
away, weakly, and against her own
will. At her first movement he lalff
her tendgrly back In her place.
“I am sorry!” he said. “And yet I
lira not,” he added* drawing ids chair
I am glad! You
You
knew that it-was f**r you 1 had come.”
''She was beginning to collect'herself.
Her brain was at work again; but she |
was conscious of a new confusion -tu j
her senses, a. new element in her-life, j
She was no bulge r sure of herself.. / ‘‘So you call youVself n Londoner
“Listen,” she bcjrgcd earnestly. “Be"! now. my-young fricndNl suppose,” he
.reasonable! How ivmfd I marry you? ' remarked, taking pensive, note of
Do you think that I eoHj(d Jive with j John’s fashionable clothes. “It is a
you up there'in lb** hills?’’ \ x , transformation,’beyond a doubt! Is It/
“We will live.” lie pfoiuisedx/’any- ; I wonder, ufmn tlu* surface only, or
u here you. choose in jthe world.” X. ; have you indeed become heart and soul
“Ah, no!” she continued, patting Ink/ a-son of this corrupt city?”
hand. "You know what yqur life is. /- “Whatever I nay have,-become;”
vlie things y«.jj uai!t inTiI>. Vou don’t : John grumbled, “it's meant- three
know* jpnlne yet. There 1 is my iVork. months the hardest work I’ve ever
VoipTannot think UXiyv wonderful it is done !’\
to ine. You (fmVrknow tlu* things that , GrairTot held ofit his pipe iu front of
!il! my brain from , day to day, ’ the | him and blew avvrjr a dense cloud of
thoughts that dirbet liiy Jil>, 1 cannot Nsmoke,
CHAPTER XIV.
K • ■ \ —
'Henri Graillot had made himself
thoroughly comfortable. He was en
sconce^ in the largest of John’s easy
chairs, his pipe in his mouth, a recent
ly refilled^teacup—Graillot was English
in nothing except his predilection for
tea—on the small table by his side.
Through a lithe cloud of tobacco
smoke he 1 was stud
- \
idy ing bis host.
irouVseif a Lorn
hiM-atwe—” |
terrupted eu-
you
dom iaffered, . ’ih«- *‘ttU/_;jctrcss .was
I rim arid 'neat ; 11 Tt■*-1mj»U*
the stijl. wtrrte
the jSgemed like .a
** h - HJM-B
Sh* !«1 him to tho ontl of-tto ,W s ,. w . „*nii flttw! hr,'to
.lor. ,hn.UBh .,m l ,h*r , .mr Itt.oa smt.U j t ar .
tmm, turuhthod In-plain but tomforla-|^ neK , and , l0l| „ p ' s|u .
hie fashion. v -r— had a pen in her mouth, there was a
we will in\ade the prince s t own sli«*uf of bills before her. and an open
ltousekeeping bwd^ lay on her knee.
She liud been busy for the ffwt half
hour making calculations, the result
Louise looked down lit her.
“Dear,” she said. “I wish I coul4
tell you. I do not know. That is the
.strungc, troublesome part of if—J
luiT kuo^vT^ ^ :
* - > , . X / * - VL-, r . s -|
“Will you -promise me sometliing?’”
Sophy begged. “Promise me, that if I
stay in here quietly until after hA has
gone, you wilEcome and tell me!”
Louise leaned a little downward as
*■ ,
if to look into her friend’s face. Sophy
suddenly dropped hbr eyes, and the
color rose to the roots of her hair.
> > ■» ‘ . ’' "
.marry you Just ln-<'a
"Because what?” he
gcriy. '
“Because yon make m<* fcM^-some-
tliing 1 don’t ^uiulcrstaiul. because you
comehnd you turn the world, for a*fe\v
minutes, topsy-turvy
Huihsluicss, isn’t it? ’Life isu’t built up
of t*in»pi<uis, What I want you to un-.
• lerstanil, and what, you please must
.understand, is that ; at "present <*ur
fives ;ir** so far, so very far. apart. I
do imi fed I < ouid be happy leading
yoiirs, find you ab» not understand
mine.” -
"I haVe 'eoine* if» find oUt ahbut
yours " John (^plained. "That is ^hy*
A ani In rc.. Berlmps I ought to hafve
waited it little time before I spoke to
you as I did Just now. But I vYill serve
nly apprenticeship. 1 wifFtry -to get
into sympathy w^lh the things that
plcjise yOu.F hot tfike me long..
As soon as you feel that we are draw
ing closer together. r’Wtlt usk~rmi
again w hat 1 have asked you this after
noon. In the meantime, I may be your
friend, may I not? You will let me
see a great deal of you? You will
help, ine just a little?”"^; x
1 Louise leaned hadk hi her chair. She
“'ExjiJiiTn yourself." he lilslstcd.
John stood on-the hearth-rug, with
his hands in his pockets. Ilis morning
clothes were exceedingly well cut."his
tie and collar imeiceptionahje, his hair,
closely erapped according to tfie fash-
But tii it is alri ^ )n .°f the moment. He ;ha<T an ex-
tremely’civilized air. v \-:t~
NLook here,- Graillnf,” lie said, “I’ll
tell ^ypu what I’ve done, although I
don’t suppose Aou w ould understand
what it means to me. I’ve visited
practically'every theater in Londop.”
“AloHe?”-
y
' . *ri u
Louise comes to have a secret
horror of the pri«ce/\ Graillot-
gives John some very sensible
advicer—The next instalment
brings important development
-—:
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
H
Baby was Developing.
Johnny was a small boy of about five
years, and he had a baby sister who
“Was just learning to walk. One day
Johnny saw his little sister standalone
and* take a few steps for the first "time.
Johnny ran hurriedly to his mother and
said. “Oh, mamma, come here qulck 1
X
N
had been tarried off her fee), brought
face tp face with emotions which she !. Baby’s walkin’ ,on her hind legs.
-i- — "' Xl't,
V
t