Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 31, Number 268, 25 October 1906 — Page 7

The-Richmond Palladium, ihursday, October 25, 1S06.

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By KATHERINE CECIL THURSTON, Author of- "The Circle," Etc.

Copyright. 1004. by "I don't believe I ex e" as rnncn," she said. "I think I'll Cow. You have been wonderfully p lent." Again she smiled slightly, at t same time extending her hand. Th gesture was quite friendly, but In LocJer's eyes it held relief as well as friendliness, and wben their hands met he 9ed that her fingers barely brushed 'his. lie picked up her cloak and carried it across the room.- - As he held the door open he laid it quietly across her arm. "I'll think over what you've said," he repeated. Again she glanced at him as if suspecting sarcasm. Then, "partly reassured, she paused. "You will always despise your opportunities, and I suppose I shall always envy them," she said. "That's the way with men and. women. Good night." With another faint smile she passed out into the corridor. Loder waited until he heard the outer door close, then he crossed the room thoughtfully and dropped Into the chair she had vacated. He sat for a time looking at the hand her fingers ) bad touched. Then he lifted his head with a characteristic movement. "By Jove," he said aloud, "how cordially she detests him!" CHAPTER IX. 0 ODER slept soundly and dreamlessly In Chileote's canopied bed. To him the big room, with its severe magnificence, suggested nothing of the gloom and solitude that it held in its owner's eyes. The ponderous furniture, the high ceiling, the heavy curtains, un changed since the days of Chileote's grandfather, all hinted at a far reach ing ownership that stirred him. The ownership was mythical in his regard and the possessions a mirage, but they filled the day and surely sufficient for the day. That was his frame of mind as he opened his eyes on the following morn Ing and lay appreciative of his comfort, of the surrounding space, even of the' light that filtered through the curtain chinks, suggestive of a world recreated. With day all things seemed possible to a healthy man. He stretched his arms luxuriously, delighting In the glossy smoothness of the sheets. What was it Chilcote had said? Better live for a day than exist for a lifetime. That was true, ahd life had begun. At thirty-six he was to know it for the first time. . He smiled, but without Irony. Man is at his best at thirty-six, he mused. He has retained his enthusiasms and shed his exuberances; he has learned what to pick tip and what to pass by; he no longer imagines that to drain a cup one must taste the dregs. lie closed his eyes and stretched again not his arms only, but his whole body. The pleasure of his mental state insisted on a physical expression. Then, sitting up in bed, he pressed the electric bell. -Chileote's new valet responded. "Full those curtains, Iienwick," he said. "What's the time?" He had passed the ordeal of Kenwick's eyes the night before. The man was slow, even a little stupid. He drew back the curtains carefully, then looked at the small clock on the dressing table. "Eight o'clock, sir. I didn't expect the bell so early, sir." Loder felt reproved, and a pause followed. ', "May I bring your cup of tea, sir?" "No, not just yet. I'll have a bath first." Ren wick showed ponderous uncer tainty. "Warm, sir?" he hazarded. "No, cold." Still perplexed, the man . left the room. Loder smiled to himself. The chances of discovery in that quarter were not large. He was inclined to think that Chilcote had even overstepped necessity in the matter of his valet's dullness. He breakfasted alone, following Chileote's habit, and after breakfast found his way to the study. As he entered Greening rose with the same conciliatory haste that he had fchown the night before. Loder nodded to him. "Early at work?" he said pleasantly. The little man showed Instant, almost ridiculous, relief. "Good morning, sir," he said. "You, too, are early. f I rather feared your nerves troubled you after I left last night, for I found your letters still unopened, this morning. But I am glad to see you look so well." Loder promptly turned his back to the light. "Oh. last night's letters!" he said. -To tell you the-truth. Greening, ray wife" his hesitation was very slight "my wife looked me up after you left, and we gossiped. I clean forgot the "post." He smiled in an explanatory way as he moved to the desk and picked up the letters. j With Greening's eyes upon him there was no time for scruples. With very creditable coolness he began opening: ue envelopes one by one. jHie letters j were unimportant, and he passed them one after another to the secretary, experiencing a slight thrill of authority as each left his hand. Again the fact that power Is visible in little things came to his mind. "Give me my engagement book, Greening.7 he said when the letters bad been disposed of. The book that Greening handed him was neat In shape and bound, like Chiltote's cigarette case, in lizard skin. As Loder took It the gold monogram i -L CV winked at him In the bright I morning light. The incident moved his j tense of humor. He and the book were I ro-operators in the fraud, it seemed. He felt an inclination to wink back.

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JCevertheless he opened it with proper 1 gravity and skimmed the pages. The page devoted to the day was alanost full. On every other line were I Jottings in Chileote's irregular hand, nd twice among the entries appeared A j?xunlnent cross in h!s9 Dencillns.

THE

19 Htrper ts Brothers LI Loaers Interest quickened as bis eye caught the mark. It had been agreed between them that only engagements essential to Chileote's public life need be carried through during his absence, and these to save his confusion were to be crossed in blue pencil. The rest, for the most part social claims, were to be left to circumstance and Loder's inclination, Chileote's erratic memory always accounting for the breaking of trivial promises. But Loder in his new, energy was anxious for obligations. The desire for fresh and greater tests grew with indulgence. He scanned the two lines with eagerness. The first was an interview with Cresham, one of Chileote's supporters in Wark; the other an engagement to lunch with Fraide. At the idea of the former his interest quickened, but at thought of the latter It quailed momentarily. Had the entry been a royal command It would have affected him infinitely less. For a space his assurance faltered. Then by coincidence the recollection of Eve and Eve's words of last night came back to him, and his mind was filled with a new sensatien. Because of Chilcote he was despised by Chileote's wife! There was no denying that In all the pleasant excitement of the adventure that knowledge had rankled. It came to him now linked with remembrance of the slight, reluctant touch of her fingers, the faintly evasive dislike underlying her glance. It was a trivial thing, but it touched his pride as a man. That was how he put it to himself. It wasn't that he valued this woman's opinion any wo man's opinion. It was merely that it touched his pride. He turned again to the window and gazed out, the engagement book still between his hands. What if he compelled her respect? What if by his own personality cloaked under Chileote's identity he forced her to admit his capability? It was a matter of pride, after all scarcely even of pride; self respect was a better word. Satisfied by his own reasoning, he turned back into the room. "See to those letters, Greening," he said. "And for the rest of the morning's work you might go on with your Khorasan notes. I believe we'll all want every inch of knowledge we can get in that quarter before we're much older. I'll see you again later." With a reassuring nod he crossed the room and passed through the door. He lunched with Fraide at his club and afterward walked with him to Westminster. The walk and lunch were both memorable. In that hour he learned many things that had been sealed to him before. He tasted his first draft of real elation, his first drop of real discomfiture. He saw for the first time how a great man may condescend how unostentatiously, how fully, how delightfully. He felt what tact and kindness perfectly combined may accomplish, and he burned in wardly with a sense of duplicity that crushed and elated him alternately. He was John Loder, friendless, penni less, with no present and no future, yet he walked down Whitehall in the full light of day with one of the greatest statesmen England has known. Some strangers were being shown over the terrace when he and Fraido reached the house, and, noticing the open door, the old man paused. "I never refuse fresh air," he said. "Shall we take another breath of it before settling down?" He took Loder's arm and drew him forward. As they passed through the doorway the pressure of his fingers tightened. "I shall reckon today among my pleasantest memories, Chilcote," he said gravely. "I can't explain the fee'ung, but I seem to have touched Eve's husband, the real you, more closely this morning than I ever did before. It has been a genuine happiness." He looked up with the eyes that through all his years of action and responsibility had remained so bright. But Loder paled suddenly, and his glance turned to the river wide, mysterious, secret. Unconsciously Fraide had stripped the illusion. It was not John Loder who walked here; it was Chilcote Chilcote with his position, his constituency his wife. He half extricated his arm, but Fraide held it. No,") he said. "Don't draw away from me. You have always been too ready to do that. It is not often I have a pleasant truth to tell. I won't be deprived of the enjoyment." "Can the truth ever be pleasant, sir?" Involuntarily Loder echoed Chilcote. Fraide looked up. He was half a head shorter than his companion, though his dignity concealed the fact. "Chilcote," he said seriously, "give up cynicism! It is the trademark of failure, and I do not like it in my friends." Loder said nothing. The quiet insight of the reproof, its mitigating kindness, touched him sharply. In that moment he saw the rails down which he had sent his little car of existence spinning, and the sight daunted him. The track was steeper, the gauge narrower, than he had guessed; there were curves and sidings upon which he had not reckoned. He turned his head and met Fraide's glance. "Don't count too much on me, sir." he said slowly. "I might disappoint you again." His voice broke off on the last word, for the sound of other voices and of laughter came to them across the terrace as a group of two women and three men passed through the open door. At a glance he realized that the slighter of the two women was Eve. Seeing them, she disengaged herself from her party and came quickly forward. He saw her cheeks flush and her eyes brighten pleasantly as they rested on his companion, but he noticed also that after her first cursory glance she avoided his own direction. As she came toward them Fraide drew a war his hand in readiness to

greet ner. "Here comes my godchild!" he said

"I often wish, Chilcote. that I could do awav with the prefix." He added the last words in an undertone as he reached them, then he responded .warmly to her smile. "What!" he said. "Turning the ter race into the garden of Eden in Jan uary! We cannot allow this." Eve laughed. "Blame Lady Sarah she said. "We met at lunch, and she carried me off. Needless to say hadn't to ask where." They both laughed, and Loder joined. a little uncertainly. He had yet to learn that the devotion of Fraide and his wife was a long standing jest In their particular set. At the sound of his tardy laugh Eve turned to him. "I hope I didn't rob you of all sleep last night," she said. caught him in his den," she explained. turning to Fraide, "and invaded it most courageously. I believe we talked till 2." Again Loder noticed how quickly she looked from him to Fraide. The knowl edge roused his self asseriion. "I had an excellent night," he said. "Do I look as if I hadn't slept?" Somewhat slowly and reluctantly Eve looked back. "No," she said truth fully and with a faint surprise that to Loder seemed the first genuine emotion she had shown regarding him. "No, I don t tninfc l ever saw you look so well." She was quite unconscious and very charming as she made the admis sion. It struck Loder that her coloring of hair and eyes gained by daylightwere brightened and vivified by their setting of somber river and somber stone. Fraide smiled at her affectionately, then looked at Loder. "Chilcote has got a new lease of nerves, Eve," he said quietly. "And I believe I have got a new henchman. But I see my wife beckoning to me. I must have a word with her before she flits away. May I be excused?" He made a courteous gesture of apology, then smiled at Eve. She looked after him as he. moved away. "I sometimes wonder what I should do if anything were to happen to the Fraides," she said, a little wistfully. Then almost at once she laughed, as if regretting her impulsiveness. "You heard what he said," she went on in a different voice. "Am I really to congratulate you?" The change of tone stung Loder unaccountably. "AVill you always disbelieve in me?" he asked. Without answering, she walked slowly across the deserted terrace and, pausing by the parapet, laid her hand on the stonework. Still in silence, she looked out across the river. Loder had followed closely. Again her aloofness seemed a challenge. "Will you always disbelieve in me?" he repeated. At last she looked up at him slowly "Have you ever given me cause to believe?" she asked in a quiet tone. To this truth he found no answer, though the subdued incredulity nettled him afresh. Prompted to a further effort, he spoke again. "Patience is necessary with every person and every circumstance, he said. "We've all got to wait and see." She did not lower her gaze as he spoke, and there seemed to him something disconcerting in the clear, candid blue of her eyes. With a sudden dread of her next words, he moved forward and laid his hand beside hers on the parapet. "Patience is needed for every one," he repeated quickly. "Sometimes a man is like a bit of wreckage. He drifts till some force stronger than himself sets in his way and stops him." He looked again at her face. He scarcely knew what he was saying. He only felt that he was a man in an egregiously false position, trying stupidly to jus tify himself. "Don't you believe that flotsam can sometimes be washed ashore?" he asked. High above them Big Ben chimed the hour. Eve raised her head. It almost seemed to him that he could see her answer trembling on her lips. Then the voice of Lady Sarah Fraide came cheerfully from behind them. "Eve!" she called. "Eve! We must fly. It's absolutely 3 o'clock!" CHAPTER X. N the days that followed Fraide's marked adoption of him Loder behaved with a discretion that spoke well for his qualities. Many a man placed in the same re sponsible and yet strangely irresponsi ble position might have been excused if, for the time at least, he gave himself a loose rein. But Loder kept free of the temptation. Like all other experiments, his show ed unlooked for features when put to a working test. Its expected difficulties smoothed themselves away.whileothers, scarcely anticipated, came into promi nence. Most notable of all. the physical likeness between himself and Chilcote, the bedrock of the whole scheme, which had been counted on to offer most dan ger, worked without a hitch. He stood literally amazed before the sweeping credulity that met him on every hand Men who had known Chilcote from his youth, servants who had been in his employment for years, joined issue in the unquestioning acceptance. At times the ease of deception bewildered him. Thoro wap mnmonta xrhon ha rfl 1 i mat, snouia circumstances rorce mm to a declaration of the truth, he would not be believed. Human nature prefers Its own eyesight to the testimony of any man. But in face of this astonishing suc cess he steered a steady course. In the first exhilaration of Fraide's favor, in the first egotistical wish to break down Eve's skepticism, he might possibly have plunged into a vortex' of action, let it be in what direction it might; but, fortunately for himself, for Chilcote and for their scheme, he was liable to strenuous second thoughts those wise and necessary curbs that go further to the steadying of tha universe than the universe guesses. Sitting in the quiet of the house on the same day that he had spoken with Eve on the terrace he had weighed possibilities slowly and cautiously. Impressed to the full by the atmosphere of the place that in his eyes could never lack character, however dull its momentary business, however prosy the voice that filled It, he had sifted impulse from expedience as only a man who has lived within himself can sift and distinguish,

and at tne close of tuat iirst uay nis programme had been formed. There must be no rush, no headlong plunge, he had decided. Things must work around. It was his first expedition into the new country, and jt lay with fate to say whether it would be his last. . He had been leaning back in his seat, his eyes on the ministers opposite, his arms folded in imitation of Chileote's most natural attitude, when this final speculation had come to him, and as it came his lips had tightened for a moment and his face become hard and cold. It is an unpleasant thing when a man first unconsciously reckons on the weakness of another, and the look that expresses the idea is not good to see. He had stirred uneasily, then his lips had closed again. He was tenacious by nature, and by nature intolerant of weakness. At the first suggestion of reckoning upon Chileote's lapses his mind had drawn back in disgust, but as the thought came again the disgust had lessened. In a week two weeks, perhaps Chilcote would reclaim his place. Then would begin the routine of the affair. Chilcote, fresh from indulgence and freedom, would find his obligations a thousand times more irksome than before; he would struggle for a time, then A shadowy smile had touched Loder's lips as the idea formed itself. Then would come the inevitable recall; then in earnest he might venture to put his hand to the plow. He never indulged in day dreams, but something in the nature of a vision had flashed, over his mind in that instant. He had seen himself standing in that same building, seen the rows of faces first

bored, then hesitatingly transformed under his personal domination, under the one great power he knew himself to possess the power of eloquence. The strength of the suggestion had been almost painful. Men who have attained self repression are occasionally open to a perilous onrush of feeling. Believing that they know themselves, they walk boldly forward toward the highroad and pitfall alike. These had been Loder's disconnected ideas and speculations on the first day of his new life. At 4 o'clock on the ninth day he was pacing with quiet confidence up and down Chileote's stud-, his mind pleasantly busy and his cigar comfortably alight, when he paused in his walk and frowned, interrupted by the entrance of a servant. The man came softly into the room, drew a small table toward the fire and proceeded to lay an extremely fine and unserviceable looking cloth. Loder watched him in silence. He had grown to find silence a very useful commodity. To wait and let things develop was the attitude he oftenest assumed, but on this occasion he was perplexed. He had not rung for tea, and in any case a cup on a salver satisfied bis wants. He looked critically at the fragile cloth. Presently the servant departed and solemnly re-entered carrying a silver tray, with cups, a teapot and cakes. Having adjusted them to his satisfaction, he turned to Loder, "Mrs. Chilcote will be with you in five minutes, sir," he said. He waited for some response, but Loder gave none. Again he had found the advantages of silence, but this time it was silence of a compulsory kind. He had nothing to say. The man, finding him irresponsive, retired, and, left to himself, Loder stared at the arrasr of feminine trifles; then, turning abruptly, he moved to the center of the room. Since the day they had talked on the terrace he had seen Eve only thrice and always in the presence of others. Since the night of his first coming she , had not invaded his domain, and he wondered what this new departure might mean. His thought of her had been less vivid in the last few days, for, thoiagh still using steady discretion, he had been drawn gradually nearer the fascinating whirlpool of new interests and new work. Shut his eyes as he might, there was no denying that this moment, so personally vital to him, was politically vital to the whole country, and that by a curious coincidence Chileote's position well nigh forced him to take an active interest in the situation. Again and again the suggestion had arisen that should the smoldering fire in Fersia break into a flame Chileote's commercial interests would facilitate would practically compel his standing in in the campaign against the government. The little Incident of the tea table, recalling the social side of his obligations, had aroused the realization of greater things. As he stood meditativei? in the middle of the room he saw fcddenly how absorbed he had become In these gTeater things how, in tne swing of congenial interests, he had been borne insensibly forward, his ca pacities expanding, his intelligence as serting itself. He had so undeniably found his sphere that the idea of usur pation had receded gently as by natural laws until his own personality had begun to color the day's work. As this knowledge came he wondered quickly if it held a solution of the present little comedy; if Eve had seen what others, he knew, had observed that Chilcote was showing a grasp of things that he had not exhibited for years. Tnen, as a sound of skirts came softly down the corridor, he squared his shoulders with his habitual abrupt gesture and threw his cigar into the fire. Eve entered the room much as she had done on her former visit, but with one difference in passing Loder she quietly held out her hand. He took it as quietly. "Why am I so honored?" he asked. She laughed a little and looked across at the fire. "How like a man! You always want to begin with reasons. Let's have tea first and explanations after." She moved forward toward the table, and he followed. As he did so it struck him that her dress seemed in peculiar harmony with the day and the room, though beyond that he could not follow its details. As she paused beside the table he drew forward a chair with a faint touch of awkwardness. She thanked him and sat down. He watched her in silence as she poured out the tea, and the thought crossed his mind that it was incred ibly long since he had seen a woman preside over a meal. The deftness of her fingers filled him with an unfamiliar, half Inquisitive wonder. So interesting was the sensation that when

she held bis cup toward liim fie diUn t immediately see it. "Don't you want any?" She smiled a little. He started, embarrassed by is own tardiness. "I'm afraid I'm dull," he said. "I've been so" "So keen a worker in the last week ? For a moment he felt relieved. Then, as a fresh silence fell, "his sense of awkwardness returned. He' sipped bis tea and ate a biscuit. He found himself wishing, for almost the first time, for some of the small society talk that came so pleasantly to other men. He felt that the position was ridiculous. He glanced at Eve's averted bead and laid his empty cup upon tiie table. Almost at once she turned, and their eyes met. "John," she said, "do you guess at all why I wante.d to have tea with you ?" He looked down at her. "No," he said honestly and without embellishment. The curtness of the answer might have displeased another woman. Eve

seemed to take no offense. "I had a talk with the Fraides to day," she said, "a long talk. Mr. Fraide said great things of you, things I wouldn't have believed from anybody but Mr. Fraide." She altered her position and looked from Loder's face back into the fire. He took a step forward. "What things?" he said. He was almost ashamed of the sudden, inordinate satisfaction that welled up at her words. "Oh, I mustn't tell you!" She laughed a little. "But you have surprised him." She paused, sipped her tea. then looked up again with a change of expression. "John," she said more seriously, "there is one point that sticks n little. Will this great change last?" Her voice was direct and even, wonderfully direct for a woman. Loder thought. It came to him with a certain force that beneath her remarkable charm might possibly lie a remarkable character. It was not a possibility that bad occurred to him before, and it caused him to look at her a second time. In the new light he saw her beauty differently, and it interested him differently. Heretofore he had been inclined to class women under three heads Idols, amusements and Incumbrances. Now it, crossed his mind that a woman might possibly fill another place the place of a companion. "You are very skeptical," he said, still looking down at her. She did not return his glance. "I think I have been made skeptical," she said. As she spoke the Image of Chilcote shot through his mind Chilcote, Ir ritable, vicious, unstable and a quick "Why am 1 so honored f" he asked. compassion for this woman so Inevitably shackled to him followed it. Eve, unconscious of what was passing in his mind, went on with her subject. "When we were married," she said gently, "I had such a great Interest in things, such a great belief in life. I had lived in politics, and I was marrying one of the coming men everybody said you were one of the coming men. I scarcely felt there was anything left to ask for. You didn't make very ardent love," she smiled, "but 'I think I had forgotten about love. I wanted nothing so much as to be like Lady Sarah married to a great man." She paused, then went on more hurriedly: "For awhile things went right; then slowly things went wrong. You got your your nerves." Loder changed his position with something of abruptness. She misconstrued the action. "Please don't think I want to be disagreeable," she said hastily. "I don't. I'm only trying to make you understand why why I lost heart." "I think I know," Loder's voice broke in irvoluntarily. "Things got worse, then still worse. You found interference useless. At last you ceased to have a husband." "Until a week ago." She glanced up quickly. Absorbed in her own , feelings, she had seen nothing extraordinary in his words. But at hers Loder changed color. "It's the most incredible thing in the world," she said. "It's quite Incredible, and yet I can't deny it. Against all my reason, all my experience, all my inclination, I seem to feel in the last week something of what I fel at first." She stopped, with an embarrassed laugh. "It seems that, as If by magic, life has been picked up where I dropped It six years ago." Again she stopped and laughed. Loder was keenly uncomfortable, but he could think of nothing to say. "It seemed to begin that night I dined with the Fraides," she went on. "Mr. Fraide talked so wisely and so kindly jfbout so many things. He recalled all we had hoped for in you, and and he blamed me a little." She paused and laid her cup aside. "He said that when people have made what they call their last effort they should always make just one effort more. He promised that if I could once persuade you to take an Interest in your work he would do the rest. He said all that and a thousand other kinder things, and I sat .and lis- j

tned. But all tiie tiie 1 tuou&Iit of nothing but their xiselessness. Before I left I promised to do my best, but my thought was still the same. - It was stronger than ever when I forced myself to come up here" She paused again and glanced at Loder's averted head. "But I came, and then, as if by conquering myself I had compelled a reward, you seemed, you somehow seemed different. It sounds ridiculous, I know." Her voice was half amused, half deprecating. "It wasn't a difference in your face, though I knew directly that you were free from nerves." Again she hesitated over the word. "It was a difference in yourself, in the things you said, more than in the way you said them." Once more she paused and laughed a little. Loder's discomfort grew. "But it didn't affect me then." "She spoke more slowly. "I wouldn't admit it then. And the next day when we talked on the terrace I still refused to admit it, though I felt it more strongly than before. , But I have watched you since that day, and I know there is a

change. Mr. Fraide feels the same, and he is never mistaken. I know it's only nine or ten days, but I've hardly seen you in the same mood for nine or ten hours in the last three years." She stopped, and the silence was impressive. It seemed to plead for confirmation of her instinct. Still Loder could find no response. After waiting for a moment Ihe leaned forward in her chair and Itoked up at him. "John," she said, "Is it going to last? That's what I came to ask. I don't want to believe till I'm sure. I don't want to risk a new disappointment." Loder felt the earnestness of her gaze, though he avoided meeting it. "I couldn't have said this to you a week ago, but today I can. I don't pretend to explain why. The feeling is too inexplicable. I only know that I can say it now and that I couldn't a week ago. Will you understand and answer?" .. Still Loder remained mute. f His position was horribly incongruous. What could he say? What dared he say? Confused by his silence, Eve rose. "If it's only a phase, don't try to hide it," she said. "But if it's going to last If by any possibility it's going to last" She hesitated and looked up. She was quite close to him. He would have been less than man had he been unconscious of the subtle contact of her glance, the nearness of her presence, and no one had ever hinted that manhood was lacking in him. It was a moment of temptation. His own energy, his own intentions, seemed so near, Chilcote and Chileote's claims so distant and unreal. After all, his life, his ambitions, his determinations, were his own. He lifted his eyes and looked at her. "You want me to tell you that I will go on?" he said. Her eyes brightened. She took a step forward. "Yes," she said; "I want it more than anything In the world." There was a wait. The declaration that would satisfy her came to Loder's lips, but he delayed it. The delay was fateful. While he stood silent the door opened, and the servant who had .brought In the tea reappeared. He crossed the room and handed Loder a telegram. "Any answer, sir?" he said. Eve moved back to her chair. There was a flush on her cheeks, and her eyes were still alertly bright. Loder tore the telegram open, read it, then threw It into the fire. "No answer!" he said laconically. At the brusqueness of his voice Eve looked up. "Disagreeable news?" she said as the servant departed. He didn't look at her.. He was watching the telegram withering in the center of the fire. "No," he said at last in a strained voice. "No; only news that I that I had forgotten to expect." CHAPTER XL HERE was a silence, an uneasy break, after Loder spoke. The episode of the telegram was, to all appearances, ordinary enough, calling forth Eve's question and his own reply as a natural sequence, yet in the pause that followed it each was conscious of a jar, each was aware that in some subtle way the thread of sympathy had been dropped, though to one the cause was inexplicable and to the other only too plain. Loder watched the ghost of his message grow whiter and . thinner, then dissolve into airy fragments and flutter up the chimney. As the last morsel wavered out of sight he turned and looked at his companion. "You almost made me commit myself," he said. In the desire to hide his feeling3 his tone was short. Eve returned his glance with a quiet regard, but he scarcely saw it. He had a stupefied sense of disaster, a feeling of bitter self commiseration that for the moment outweighed all other considerations. Almost at the moment of justification the good of life had crumbled in his fingers, the soil givenbeneath his feet, and with an absence of logic, a lack of justice unusual in him, he let resentment against Chilcote sweep suddenly, over his mind. Eve, still watching him, saw the darkening of. his expression and with a quiet movement rose from her chair. "Lady Sarah has a theater party to night, and I am dining with her," she said. "It is an early dinner, so I must think about dressing. I'm sorry you think I tried to draw you Into anything. I must have explained myself badly." She laughed a little to cover the slight discomfiture that her tone betrayed, and as she laughed she moved across the room toward the door. Loder, engrossed in the check to his own schemes, incensed at the suddenness of Chileote's recall and still more I Incensed at his own folly In not having anticipated it, was oblivious for the moment of both her movement and her words. Then quite, abruptly they obtruded themselves upon him, breaking through his egotism with something of the sharpness of pain following a blow. Turning quickly from the fireplace, he faced the shadowy room across which she had passed, but simultaneously with his turning she gained the door. The knowledge that she was gone struck him with a sense of double loss. "Wait!" he called, suddenly moving forward. Bat almost at once he paused, chilled by the solitude of the room. "Eve he said, uslnc her nam txn-

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consoioiisiy lor III.1 xiisc cime. But the corridor, as well as the room, was empty; he was too late. He stood irresolute; then he laughed shortly, turned and passed back toward the fireplace. The blow had fallen, the inevitable come to pass, and nothing remained but to take the fact with as good a grace as possible. Chileote's telegram had summoned him to Clifford's inn at 7 o'clock, and it was now well on toward a He pulled out his watch Chileote's watch, he realized with a touch of grim humor as he stooped to examine the dial by the light of the fire then, as if the humor bad verged to another feeling, he sttxnl straight again and felt for the eleetrie button In the wall. His fingers touched it. and simultaneously the room was lighted. The abrupt alteration from shadow to light came almost as a shock. The feminine arrangement of the tea table seemed incongruous beside the sober books and the desk laden with papers incongruous as his own presence In the place. The thought was unpleasant, and he turned aside as if to avoid it, but at the movement his eyes fell on Chileote's cigarette box with its gleaming monogram, and the whimsical suggestion of bis first morning rose again. The idea that th inanimate objects- in the room knew him for what he was, recognized the interloper where human eyes saw the rightful possessor, returned to his mind. Through all his disgust and chagrin a smile forced itself to his lips, and, crossing the room for the second time.

he passed into Chileote's bedroom. There the massive furniture and somber atmosphere fitted better with his mood than the energy and action which the study always suggested. Walking directly to the great bed, he sat on its side and for several minutes stared straight In front of him, apparently seeing nothing; then at last the apathy passed from him, as his previous anger against Chilcote had passed. He stood up slowly, drawing his long limbs together, and recrossed the room, passing along the corridor and through the door communicating with the rest of the bouse. Five minutes later be was in the open air and walking steadily eastward, his hat drawn forward and his overcoat buttoned up. As he traversed the streets he allowed himself no thought. Once, as he waited In Trafalgar square to find a passage between the vehicles, the remembrance of Chileote's voice coming out of the fog on their first night made itself prominent, but he rejected It quickly, guarding himself from even an Involuntary glance at the place of their meeting. The Strand, with Its unceasing life, came to him as something; almost unfamiliar. Since his Identification with the new life no "business had drawn him east of Charing Cross, and . his first sight of the narrower stream of traffic struck him as garish and unpleasant. As the impression came he accelerated his steps, moved by the wish to make regret and retrospection alike Impossible by a contact with actual forces. Still walking hastily, he entered Clifford's Inn, but there almost unconsciously his feet halted. There was something In the quiet immutability of the place that sobered energy, both mental and physical; a sense of changelessness the changelessness of inanimate things, that rises in such solemn contrast to the variableness of mere human nature, which a new environment, a new outlook, sometimes even a new presence, has power to upheave and remold. He paused, then with slower and steadier steps crossed the little court and mounted 'the familiar stairs of his own house. (To Be Continued.) THE CHICriO, CINCINNATI & LOUllVILLE R. R. (TniyNEvy way) May 20th, 1909. Arrives from the Leave Chisago Leave .Peru Arrive Ricbmon 4 4 7 61 Dally. only. a icept H under . Bond a o UrUSib dally ex cool Sunday. The l J.45am. t direct eofinectlo; from Richmond makef t Grlfntto with rand .rrlrior CMmimTii mi Xrank'forCalcag All eait-boand t ttons at Cottaze " " V , J,. pl.t make dl rect oonaeewitn C if. jj. tot Oxford. Hamilton, Ll .wonnenvuieand Rahvtlle For farther, lnforma f nd train connection, regarding ratet C A. BLAW. Howe PtoMte 44. Pass, and Ticket has some geValues In Real Es tate. Rents collected and every attention given the property. It has gone ctii of fashion to boast of never reading ads. Those who do not nowadays are inclined to keep quiet about it, as they would about any other personal shortcoming

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