Puslapio vaizdai

Suddeth turned again in bewilderment this dead town for a bit. I had to stay to his friend, who stood, erect, with her out here in exile-establishing residence, head flung back. Velma after one swift even as the gossips said. The idea came glance at her mother, refused to meet her suddenly, that afternoon he lectured on eyes again and turned instead, directly identity —I 've always wanted that sort of upon Mrs. Hale:

fame and the adulation that goes with it, “You told me, last night, how you came and this town seemed far enough from to write them, where they were written New York to make it safe. A fool idea, - all their inspiration ! You told me was n't it? And I was really sitting next everything about them that I longed to to you,” turning swiftly on Mrs. Suddeth, know! You dared to desecrate them-so! "that afternoon! Next to the woman But I shall know the truth of them from who really wrote the thing. Next to his my mother-she knows how they were unknown Egeria!" written-how she came to write them.” She went down one step, but turned

Suddeth looked at her with anger in his back to look at Suddeth, and leaned back eyes, but his voice was composed. “Are you against a pillar, shaking with laughter. mad, Velma ?” he asked in a low voice. "Oh, you egoist !” she cried. "You have “Apologize, instantly, to my friend." been seeking for understanding all your

Whitmore stepped forward. "If Mrs. life-you 've had it there—she knows you Suddeth will permit me," he said gently, to the dregs of you. And so do I! If "I happen to be the only member of our you were worth it we could have some firm who knows the identity of the author illuminating confidences. Good luck to —my lips are still sealed by a most solemn the poems, Veddie. Don't think you can vow of secrecy-but if the authorship of persuade these people to save you—if they the 'Letters' has been laid at this lady's don't announce by to-morrow, I will. For door, I must affirm to my absolute know- I 'm out of town to-night." ledge that those who assert it are mistaken They watched her go down the walk. in their contention. The author of the Whitmore withdrew with Velma from the 'Letters' is not this lady. Please make no immediate vicinity of husband and wife. mistake about it. She is not the author." Suddeth raised his eyes at last, and met,

For a moment the five stood at bay. irresistibly, his wife's. The look in hers Mrs. Hale was still insolently poised; was not a comforting one nor an inviting Velma, unapologetic, gazed steadily at the one, and he seemed to change his mind first woman she had ever called a foe. from a congratulatory to an accusative Suddeth's eyes were the only ones that wandered, and they fled from his wife's "I am-stunned by this duplicity," he face to Mrs. Hale's and back again. He uttered, after a long pause. "It is looked at last at Velma. “Your mother?" astounding-to find so dangerous a secret he muttered. “Are you sure?"

in one's home, unknown.” "I know," the girl said proudly.

If you will come to me after luncheon, At that instant Mrs. Suddeth turned to Vedder,” Mrs. Suddeth replied, "we'll Whitmore. “The issue has been forced," have a little talk, you and Velma and I." she said. “You may make the announceinent of identity whenever you wish." The most important literary revelation of

"You!" gasped her husband. Then he the year was sent broadcast through the turned upon Mrs. Hale.

land that night, and the next day Sud“You have made me absurd,” he said deth's salon died a death comparable only furiously, "and my salon ridiculous!” to that engendered by laughing-gas. But

Mrs. Hale threw back her head, and the principals were out of reach, for they shot a level gaze at him from her blue had all left town, and Mrs. Hale soon eyes. “You were that, and it was that, lost herself to the world of Athens in a before,” she said. She turned to Whit- new matrimonial nomenclature. Suddeth more. “Is it true she really wrote them?” sought to establish himself in New York.

“It is true," said Whitmore simply. Velma and her mother went abroad, and

She shrugged her shoulders, and her it was from Paris that her publishers rehand tightened upon her parasol handle. ceived Mrs. Suddeth's second volume. It “It was a chance to make life interesting in was widely praised, by none more ardently


than by Suddeth in the several critical columns to which he had access. Mrs. Suddeth received these duly, with their distinctive, mouth-filling phrases, from her clipping bureau. She also received them in envelops addressed to her by Suddeth's hand-the extent of personal communication to date. Velma's devotion to her mother is unusual, and Mrs. Suddeth's


salon in Paris is a center. So far Suddeth has not offered to follow them abroad. It may be added that both Suddeth and The Sunrise Publishing Company have on file a canceled contract. 'Egeria" was never published, and Athens's bibliophiles still lack the saving humorous touch to their utterly respectable collections of first edi tions.



The Beloved-the Beautiful!

She dwells-but ah, none knoweth where she dwells,

'T is nowhere, for her home is everywhere,

A waving tent far up the cloudy air,

A sleeping-room in hyacinthine bells,

A crypt where noon-day stars glance back from deepest wells!

The Beloved-the Beautiful!

I have not seen her shape, her goddess face,

Yet I the fond caressing cincture knew

That round her viewless form a wild vine threw-
In parting boughs could guess her windowed place,
By widening water-rings her silver steps could trace.

The Beloved-the Beautiful!
Her voice is low-is shrill—is far-is near;

'T is as the dreaming bird's in moon-loved nest,
As Dawn's faint laughters circling east and west
Around the world and dying up the sphere,

Or as the Wind's that knows where sleeps the vanished Year.

The Beloved--the Beautiful!

Her years? They are beyond my skill to count!
She is so ever-young-she is so old

That her sweet years by æons must be told:
Backward so far, so far, so far they mount,
Yet are as waters re-arising in a fount.

The Beloved-the Beautiful!
Oh, born with all year-times, she softly dies
With each away, that each in turn shall get
A splendor and a grace it had not yet,
Wherewith to dazzle Memory's aching eyes:
For this she blends herself with long-past days and skies.

The Beloved-the Beautiful!
Herself entire she is unfain to show,

But in withdrawing most would she be seen;
Therefore, to find her in her last demesne,
Out of this world her lovers all must go,
Having but kissed the garments that around her flow.

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OUNG Hearne, a Peri at the gate, with an affectionate anxiety and regret in

looked wistfully up the long path of their laughter which Hearne felt and the West Point hotel to its piazza blos- winced under. It seemed to bring nearer soming with laughing, chattering girls that dark cloud which hung so perilously Each gray-coated, white-trousered, bell- close to him these days. buttoned figure that turned in at its for- It rolled away for the time, however, bidden portals stopped short at sight of when he saw Faith Ellery coming toward him to fall in limp incredulity upon the him, and his spirits rose buoyantly to nearest support.

meet the June radiance about them as he "It is n't possible that the mere lack of piloted her tenderly down the rocky path a permit can deter our His'n" — for opening into "Flirtation Walk.” When Hearne's plebe days had early substituted it is summer at West Point, when you this more manly epithet for his own ef- have just reached twenty-one, and are enfeminate surname. “How are the mighty gaged to the loveliest girl in the world, fallen!”

and when you mean to kiss her as soon as Hearne answered them all with the you round that kindly clump of evergreens, pleasant grin which had helped to make it is hard to believe the universe is not all him the most popular man in the corps. it should be. “Only six demerits left between me and Hearne did not carry out that interestgraduation, my friends," he informed ing intention, however, at the spot he had them. “My proud spirit is broken. first designated. An uncomfortable memThough even if I should go over the ory of certain tender passages at Easter limit,” he would add gaily enough, “my with a black-eyed girl from Vassar came studies would save me, of course."

ruthlessly between him and the sweet face They chuckled at this again, but always at his side. He looked down at it remorse

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fully, telling himself for the hundredth time the lover's refrain of unworthiness. How many truancies that class ring had played before it had come home to that small finger! The four careless years of light-hearted love-making, when he had helped sustain the reputation of the bellbuttons for gallantry and had joyously swelled the chorus of sweet nothings which had echoed through Flirtation's romantic paths for a hundred years, rose a relentless witness before the candid innocence of this girl's eyes and the grave purity of her young brow. It was before that that Hearne's heart prostrated itself in deepest adoration-something quite apart from the length of her lashes and the sun in her hair. She looked up quickly at his unconscious sigh.

"Those examinations?" she queried anxiously, and he nodded in gloomy re


"I'm 'boning' like mad for them," he informed her in the peculiar vernacular of the Point, "but what with extra drillsand thinking of you every second-I have so little time. And what I don't know!" he broke off with an eloquent groan. "I think I can skin through all right in everything but that vile engineering, but I 'm afraid I'm going to 'fess' in that."

"Engineering!" Faith ejaculated. "Why, is n't that what Cousin Edward teaches?" "It surely is. And I very much fear your estimable relative is going to 'find me' on it-fire me-flunk me," he hunted hopelessly for more classic synonyms to explain the cadet dialect.

"But if he knew we were engaged!" Faith cried excitedly. "Of course they know I like you and they tease me about you," she confessed with adorable shyness, -"but if he knew what it meant to me -he's very fond of me-he never could spoil our happiness so."

"Oh, he 's a good soldier," Hearne admitted grudgingly. "Of course I can't have much respect for any man who would teach such stuff, but he 'd do his duty, I'll say that for him. If he knew we were engaged, naturally he 'd have to mark me all the more exactingly." He went on to elucidate his point more clearly to the bewildered eyes Faith lifted to him. "He'd be in something of the same fix that the Worm was in two years ago-the fellow I room with," he interpreted. "They call


him the Worm because he wriggles so when there are any 'fems' around-he has n't any use for them. I was as near a stayback at furlough then as I am to not graduating now, and the whole class was trying to keep me out of scrapes so I would n't have to miss the class supper in New York. I'd gotten up to the day before we left with two demerits left to my credit, when, as luck would have it, a 'cit' I knew at home passed through here. I took him into my tent, with me without a permit-I did n't think I never do," poor Hearne confessed sadly the key to his actions at the Point. "It would have been all right if the Worm, who was Officer of the Day, had n't been inspecting just at that time. The O.D. is under oath to report everything he sees, but of course he hates to tell on his friends and he does his best for them by keeping his eyes on the ground all the time. The Worm would never have seen a thing if just as he passed my tent I had n't toppled over my chair with a crash, and of course he looked up involuntarily-any one would have to, you know-saw the 'cit,' reported me, and I loitered on for three days in this beloved spot admiring the scenery after the class left."

"Oh, how horrid of him," cried Miss Ellery, with as much violence as her gentleness could muster.

"He could n't help it," Hearne answered blankly. "He had to do it-he could n't break his word. He felt worse than I did about it-gave up the class supper and stayed here with me, like the brick he is. It was a point of honor, you see, his reporting me."

They had left the narrow windings of the sun-flecked path and were seated in one of the many poetic nooks for which Flirtation is justly famous. Behind them stretched a lover's labyrinth of green and gold; below them the river flowed with a bored calmness; long years of chaperonage had inured it so that the wildest ecstasies of love failed to cause its silver surface a ripple of excitement. Faith leaned against a moss-grown rock watching it, while her lover lounged stiffly beside her in tender deference to that crease in his spotless duck trousers which is the joy and pride of every true West Pointer's heart. After some profitable discussion upon matters purely personal and vastly

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