HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Huron Expositor, 1927-04-22, Page 7Ifj,•
• -
sia
AlMatatatfaUtak,
•:;.4
.4•
I ;• :1/4,
•
44.
'raY GAbf!
•
r
r
3
a
a
t
rs
3
e•
t
e
t
f
I ,S
ard,i,"0:4
•
GENERA'. nsistrEANCE AGENT:
TOP'i'egienting only tbe beet
Indian, British an d Ante can"-
Compardes.
All kinds of insurance effected
at the lowest rates, including-,
FIRE, LIFE, ACCIDENT, AUTO-
MOBILE, TORNADO AND PLATE
GLASS RISKS.
-Also--
REAL ESTATE and LOAN AGENT
"* Representing "Huron and Erie"
Mortgage Corporation, of London,
Ontario.
Prompt attention paid to placing
risks and adjusting ef
Business established 50 years,
guaranteeing good service.
OFFICE PHONE, 33.
RESIDENCE PHONE, 60.
HEIRS WANTED
Mining Heirs are being sought
ihroughout the world. Many people
are to -day living in comparative pov-
'arty who are really rich, but do not
ilmow_it. Yon may be one of them.
Rend for Index Book, "Missing Heirs
and Next of Kin," containing care-
fully authenticated lista of missing
heirs and unclaimed estates which
have been advertised for, here and
abroad. The Index of Missing Heirs
we offer for sale contains thousand's
of names which have appeared in
American, Canadian, English, Scotch,
Irish, Welsh, German, French, Bel-
gian, Swedish, Indian, Colonial, and
other newspapers, inverted by lawy-
ers, executors, administrators. Also
contains list of English and Isiah
Courts of Chancery and unclaimed
dividends list of Bank of England.
Your name or your ancestor's may be
In the list. Send $1.00 (one dollar)
at ones for book.
International Claim Agency
Dept. 296,
Pittsburg, Pa., IT. S. A.
2930-tt
LONDON AND VV1NGHAM
Exeter
Homan
Eippen .......
Bructilield
Clinton Jct.
Clinton, Ar.
Clinton, Lv.
Clinton Jet.
Londesborough
Myth .....
Belgrave
Wingham Jet., Ar
Wingham Jet., Lv
Wingham
North. North.
South.
Wingham ......
Wingham Jet.
Belgravo
Blyth
Londesborough
Clinton Jet.
Clinton
Clinton Jct
Brumfield
ICIPPen
Heneall
a,m.
10.16
10.30
10.86
10.44
10.68
11.05
11.15
11.21
11.85
11.44
11.56
12.08
12.08
12.12
a.m.
6.55
7.01
7.15
7.27
7.35
7.49
7.56
8.03
8.15
8.22
8.32
8.47
C. N. R. TIME TABLE
East
Goderich
Holmesville
Clinton
Seaforth
St. Columban
Dublin
Dublin
St. Columban
Seafortti
Clinton
Holmesville
Goderich
3.1271.
6.00
6.17
6.25
6.41
6.49
6.64
West
a.m. pan.
10.87 5.88
10.42 6.44
10.53 6.58
11.10 6.08
11.20 7.03
11.40 1.20
C. P. R. TIME TABLE
East
Goderich
Menet.....
MeGaw. .
Auburn
Blyth
Walton
McNaught
Toronto ...-
Wet
Toronto
MeNaught
Walton is
Blyth
Auburn'
Mean* a•datoeis•Lot..4•4,.,
Menaint
Goderleh . • a solo*
•
p.m.
6.04
6.18
6.23
6.82
6.46
6.52
6.52
6.58
7.12
7.21
7.83
7.45
745
7.56
p.m.
8.15
8.21
8.32
8.44
852
4.06
4.13
4.20
4.32
4.40
4.50
6.05
p.m.
2.20
2.37
2.52
8.12
8.20
3.28
364 veileln)
,f!YOUP Osinfit," acid Angela, ,laugh -
in the, sense of :inning Wbete
they eviE jethts flat,' or in the smite
ofe their • vvitya, And- been -nes. That
what'1Vmeant. I mean this4-
.Talcatseo Women who are chane friends
and both of whom know you and trust
you, N.; Botirne. They will tell
you intimate things, things rooted in
their' hearts and wrapped into the
:fiber of •their Buffeting lives which
they will never breathe to one ans
other. To her weinan friend a wo-
man is what her friend has grown to
expect her to he; slielisn't a hypo-
crite; she really lives in that accus-
tomed mask as one Might occupy the
same house at axed periods of the
year. -But the same weman will op-
en to any man for whom she has both
affection and faith a dozen doors in-
to those subterranean channels which
intersect her very foundations. She
will run to a woman with petty cop-
fidences, certain troubles, and some
half truths that ehe truly believes to
be whole; but to a mart she doesn't
give �r ask, she surrenders."
"You ,mean," said J. E., "that Al-
loway is more. apt to open her heart
to me than to. you."
"In a way, yes," replied Angela,
already wearied by her own logic,
"and with a difference, John, you
think of her as the lingering spirit
of a generation. That is nice a you;
it opens a door on your own lasting
faith. You ignore the fact that wo-
men know no generations. Only the
medium changes through which their
eternal sameness makes its chameleon
manifestations. You lived and still
live in one woman and see all the
woman of her time within her own
radiance. I love you for it, John.
Does it frighten you to have me tell
you so?"
"No," said J. E., a strange flush
passing over his face. "It doesn't
frighten me; it's the dearest and
closets thing anyone has been able to
say to me for many years. I thank
you for it. But you couldn't have
said it a week ago, Angela; nor could
NIEMEN..
Cut your Bill for
Long Distance
As a business man if you
ask us to do so, ',/e can
probably show you how to
save quite a sum each
month on your Long Dis-
tance business. A large
number of prominent firms
have recently been sur-
prised and delighted to
P•in•
0.37 find the savings they could
make by following the re-
commendations of our ex-
pert investigators.
No matter what line of busi-
ness you are in, or how little
you may be at present using
Long Distance, it will coat you
nothing to have one of our ex-
perts analyze your business and
make you a report,. We hope
that in your own interests you
will decide to do this.
44 Our Manager will be glad to
have you call him and nuthe an
appointment for the purpose.
ti:go
10.04
10.13
10.80
a.m.
5.50
5.56
6.04
6.11
6.25
6.40
6.52
10.25
RM.
7.40
11.48
12,01
12.12
it
SerreS
5
44,`,4141,
haee„dreseineds a week age thee: '1' _Neerienee,lee,
yectiele" ,tbipee aPe4 met wife% Mena isak better efej.4
elit4eY, to a neWeeneer, but teet to iteiaete ,Sbeltwateli
Straners-not ae stranger.. Vleet bieig*feetHe ;,,
M has done. tbs to ue, „on ' For at: Week
ee you again in pigtaile ;el renieine the role a fing
.
her how hated yeti 'le school, lot.igleade of"thete
Somehow, reletiunebering Make* ine* anent: front eregiSiie
glow with airection for yon new. se baler to .the eurilliesseer
tole lett Wee going to get a lot of
fun watching your face to -night, but
it was like looking at a reflection Cof
all my own thoughtie She didn't -pet
us to shame, exitetey. What did she
do?"
"I'll tell you,John," said. Angela,
with a whimsical smile at herself,
"she accepted us."
"So she did," said J. E. after a
palate, "into our own garden, too."
They kept silence for a moment and
then he continued, "Angela, didn't you
get a feeling ot walking in rememb-
ered paths, of meeting face to face
the happiness of your own youth?"
Angela drew a long breath. "Yes,"
she said, "I got that feeling and now
I'm going home to put it away in my
ribbon box before I lose it I'm so
glad you let me be with all of you
to -night."
"Without you," said J. E., •rising
with her, "something would have
been missing, something more than
just yourself. Is it the horses to-
night or the motor?" he asked, as he
rang for Simon.
"The horses," said Angela. "Thank
goodness I had the instinct not to
drive to this dinner in a motor."
"Never give up your horses, Ange-
la," said J. E. "If you get hard up,
come to me. Every time I see a
coupe with its inevitable bays waiting
in the side streets of the 'teens, for -
tie*, fifties, and sixties, or here in
Murray Hill, I say to myself; 'New
York still lives.' And every time I
see them drawn up at the ponderous
portal of a certain ancient institution
of feminine commerce I say, 'New
York still keeps faith.' You won't
give them up, will you?"
"Never, John," said Angela, laugh-
ing, "especially if I am to come to
you when I'm strapped. You have
guessed it; they are the link which
bolds me to a tradition from which I
make rny excursions into to -day and
Coney Island. Your mind has been
hard on me sometimes, hasn't it?"
J. E. laid his hand on her shoulder.
"Never," he said with absolute sin-
cerity, and then turned as Simon en-
tered. " Miss Livingstone's car-
riage."
On the following morning, when
Ritt Bourne came down, hoping to
catch his father at breakfast, Simon
announced that J. E. had gone, leav-
ing a message that he had been call-
ed away and would be absent for a
week. Ritt wandered into the library
to think this news over; he realized
that his father's departure had not
been as fortuitous as J. E. would
have had it appear. The son was ac-
customed to reading a meaning into
the least of his father's actions, and
in due time came to his own conclus-
ions regarding this sudden journey, in
all probability at great inconvenience.
He was filled with a glow of affection
and soaring admiration for his fa-
ther at the thought that, being a man
of vast affairs, he could still hold
those things paramount which cola
cern themselves not with food and
raiment and the high cost of living,
but with the main chance for happi-
ness between two mortals.
He went back thoughtfully to
where Alloway lay, stili asleep in the
great four -posted bed which seemed
to hold her as upon an altar. The
window curtains were not yet drawn
open, and in the dimly filtered light
she appeared to shine as though, wak-
ing or sleeping, an undying flame
kept vigil within her body. One pale
arm, bare to the shoulder, was up -
thrown beneath her head. Its gleam-
ing curves lost themselves in the
loosened flood of her tawny hair,
which shone with the dull but living
glow of old gold. Her eyes were shut
tightly, like a baby's; her red lips
were barely parted and seemed to
flutter tremulously to the even rise
and fall of her breasts, faintly mold-
ed beneath the soft whiteness of her
girlish nightgown. To Bourne she
seemed infinitely virginal, as though
love were but the accolade of purity.
A misty memory of eltis mother and
of having knelt beside that bed years
and years ago assailed him. With
his heart thick in his throat, he sank
to his knees and, with hands clasped
and outstretched, fastened his eyes
on the face of his beloved.
As though he had called to her, Al-
loway awoke, her eyes filling slowly
with the perception of the exaltation
on his face. Her hated stole out from
its nest of gold, crept into his, drew
it to her, pressed it above her heart.
"Rid trty darling, my own bopt" she
'w'hispered.
-"Oh, Alloway," he eried, blinking
ehe tears from his eyes and sniffing,
she
so glad you are awake! It isn't
fair for you to sleep without me."
She laughed, bent her dishevelled
head, and kissed his flngers; then she
looked him in the eyes and asked,
quite soberly, "Do you love me?"
"I love you so much," said Bourne,
fervently, "that I'm afraid to sleep
for fear I'll lose the dreate of you.
Pm like a man to whom the gods
have given the perfect gift on condi-
tion that he watch them so closely
that they can never steal it back. I
shall go mad with loving you, my
darling; but it can't'be helped and in
t'ho meantime Nke it."
"If that's the way you feel," sail
ijvw
gou6044gYrun:11:1 6wt w
‘;
• • **: 0•VS- Ta4 11,010 a
bet* SO , ouraeig 14 ft mixes
i .,,P,' meld the you- '. ertthent is thie: 4e ;easels
Placid, •why• su *an* people hnild, What On*
AnPasesehle could buYpomething ready made fez.
' while its much hasp nioney is because there
dignity seemed,tonwEna TeePonei- have salvers been, and please Gest
'bility for tbe shameleaely:elght-hearte there 'always will be, souls that dea
ed nest building that WIllaSeasoing on mand tallier -made cloth:eta"'
within its portal, whiek.fiPened once Stepheneyes lighted up as
each day to free itsitenetes for a though flashing a message to the a -
flight abroad and onceeeath evening feet that his quiek brain had snatch -
to take them in nab; They went ed up all of 3. E.'s meaning.
eagerly, they came back gladly, for "Another of them is this," continued
within the hushing Wales they had 3. It "You can't buy or rent a tra-
found a whole new worldthrough dition, but you can breed a baker's
which they wandered han4 in hand, dozen of them In as many years if
like children, on breathieea journeys you'll begin with your own founda-
of discovery along dim bins to dark, tiene. My advite to you and Amelie
threatening nooks in ' eel* and to carve your own Long Leg Hale
somewhere, anywhere, from Mother
Pungent attic. Froin these tene- :
brows outposts they would rush back Earthi to save what she gives in the
way o shad: les and to planayour
in assumed panic to the cheerful light own heat, ee 'eit 11 be
of Alloway's sitting room. She would cheaper than marketu6estuff, will be -
throw open its door and stand poised cause there's no sweeter way of
for a moment with shilling eyes and
, measuring the years or a child's age
uppn her thump- with hands clasped ,ump- than by fehe growth of an uncropped
ing heart. apple tree. Traditions, my boy, are
"Look!" she -would cry. "It is like not all gray bearded; they are the
a garden in full bloom." grip of any home on a man and a
But there were soberer rctoments in woman and their young; the essence
the twilight of the dying day when of all those things which last and
Bourne would sit with her in the which, being born in fire, keep green
broad window, seize her and crush in ashes,"
her to his breast, kiss her and mur- "You have given me much more
mur broken phrases embracing all than I came for, sir," said Stephen,
the baffling vagueness of his hopes rising. "I won't thank you for it;
and fears. "You are my own, yet not I'll go out and do better than that.
my own. You have come from no- Before I go, will you tell me what's
where to fill my heart, and if it become of Ritt? We parted with
should wake to find you gone where some pretty strong talk, but he's not
•P##, fsa-7 a, Or two to
would it rush to find you? Nowhere. the sort to hold anything like a
Nowhere." grudge to the extent of not letting
"Ritt!" cried Alloway. ..oh, Ritt" his friend eat dirt. I've called up the
house three times and been there
The tinge of animated life went out twic, but Simon has been too much
of her cheeks, leaving them dead for me. He says Ritt is away, but
white and bloodless. I'm sure I saw him driving his car
"It is true," said Bourne, rushing and the pick of the peach crop up
on. "You yourself are real; you are the Avenue no later than yesterday
here in my arms. I cannot deny you; morning."
I cannot disbelieve you, but I can "Ritt is holding no grudge against
tremble when my heaat 'tells me you you," said J. E., promptly, and then
are a visitor held only in part." paused. "The truth of it is, Boies,"
Aeloway struggled erect -within the he continued, as though he had come
circle of his arms and turned her to a decision, "he has forgotten yon
face to his. "Take me, crash me, kill and the world for the present. The
me!" she cried, her eyes flashing. girl whom you saw with him is his
"Wlhat have you not had of roe? wife."
What do you still wish? I am no "His wife!" gasped Stephen, his
longer Alloway; I am your wife. Shall eyes starting front his head. "When
I call back the dream -girl for you could he have done it? Who is she?
just to strip her filmy clothes ?-just Ara I Rip Van Winkle? Have Amelie
-just to shame hex?" and I been at Long Leg Hole for ten
"Forgive me," murmured Bourne, days or ten years? Have you heard
striving to draw her unyielding body whether they have put my boy in col-
lege? How many children have
at him again. "You are the wonder they?"
of the world and I a ragged pilgrim.
Forgive what I have said and some- "Who?' asked J. E., following his
invariable rule of giving his atten-
times forgive my eyes. Don't be tion first to the last of a string of
hard to me or my heart will break. gees -dome
If I hold the present truth or you, "Ritt and his wife," explained
what else matters? You yourself Stephen, earnestly.
cannot lie; you would never lie to "They were married a week ago
yesterday," said J. E.
Her body relaxed in his arms with "A week ago yesterday!" repeated
the finality of collapse. "What if I Stephen, blankly. "Who was she?
have lied to you?" she asked, with a I'll take nay oath I never saw that
peculiar ea:Imam. "What if sill prr face to forget it."
me is a lie?" "No," said J. E., easily, "I can't
"You dream -child of mystery," imagine anyone forgetting her or her
cried Bourne already happy in the re- face.'
possession of her person, "how could Stephen looked at him with some -
you lie? You are the very cup of thing of J. E.'s own brand of shrewd -
truth held to my lips. I will drink eees: "Mr. Bourne' " he said, "Ritt is
of you so and so and so," he whismyer- abest friend. Isit all right with
h , and with you, too?"
ed, kissing her eyes and brow and aBeiee, I don't blarne you," said J.
hair, "and I will fill my veins win. th e"I'll tell you, without speaking
belief." for Rite that she walked into that
Each idyl?, as each week, has its ap- door and became the apple of my eye
poirbted end. J. E. came back to bask five minutes after she was married."
in the new radiance of his home, but
not to renounce old habits. He was St"erpAfhetenr. she was married," repeated
one of those men who are too busy J. E. nodded. "By the way," he
ever to be in the way. He came, and said, as Stephen turned in a daze to -
with his co-miag the house assumed an ward the door, "I kept it out of the
air of satisfied completion; he went, papers as her wedding present."
but with his going he was never al- "Does that mean I can't tell Am -
together gone. His presence, eepee- elie?" asked Stephen dully.
ially in the library, had a Unerring "Not at all, Boles," said J. E., srnil-
power which was in itself a promise ing almost compassionately. "Tell
of his return, on his first inesalea her all you know.
with Rat, and Alloway he radiated a "All I know," repeated Stephen
nervous satisfaction, as though he with a twisted smile. "Thanks."
found himself freed of foolish fears, "You'll both be unhappy until you
but on later occasions his shrewd eyes meet her," qintinuecl"I can't
sometimes dwelt on them with a per-
tehiL "thatmutoc me and myself, to ut 1 Ang-13411
i sten t questioning behind their sein-
Liv-
Mating veil of brilliance. ingstone, for instance, the girl an-
swers all questions in herself."
"I'm glad you say Ritt is all right,"
Almost immediately after his arriv- said Stephen. "I remember that the
last time he was down at my place
I had my doubts. He was full of a
cock-and-bull story about a girl that
cried at him in an elevator.'
"That's the one," said J. E. "She
cried at him again and he married
her, and I want you to know, Boles,
that he did a good job and that it's
putting it mildly to say I'm proud
of him, and of her too."
"Even so, I wished it on him," said
Stephen, cabalistically, and departed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Bourne was too much in love for
his own happiness; he had never
learned all the pitfalls which beset
the path and condition of possession.
Like most of his sex, he had passed
from year to year and from age to
age taking things sensatory for grant-
ed. Few men, though they have al:
the facts at hand, ever visualize to
themselves the truth that the body
has a personality and a life of its
own independent of the soul.
Rett had once listened to a master-
ly analysis of this very snbject, pro-
nounced by the greatest authority of
his day, in the incongruous surromei-
ens of a *smell ship's -smoking room
dining that hour beyond the rules
when the steward leaves the lights
on for a favored lingering groin) be-
cause he himself is interested In the
onverstion. But on that coca:don
the youth that was Ritt Bourne had
not absorbed the sayings of the great
man as capable of practical applica-
tion. He had beers tremendously ie.
terested; but as if to prove the theory
which was being expounded to his
deaf ears, his attention had been fast-
ened on the extraordinary imposition
of thought over an unfriendly atmos-
phere rather than on the force a the
argument.
A scandal had taken place on board
and while the group which was gath-
ered in the smoking room happened
to be of the quality which does not
discuss women, there had occurred a
sudden hiatus in the conversation
which each felt was due to the same
cause, the same indirect suggestion
that had set the minds of all those
present to thinking of the girl in
the case.
Into this pause the great man had
interjected his sonorous voice. "The
human body," he said, "has a life of
its own, independent of the soul. All
the bodies of all the women in the
world are violins upon which we men
have played; some of them coarse in
grain and heavy to the touch; some
of them sound and clean of line; and
some as light, as packed with the
music of the ages, as tender and as
everlasting, as the thin shell of harm-
ony itself. To the knowing played
the body has no commerce with the
soul- be lifts the living fiddle to his
cheek and, eyes intent upon the great
illusion, his deft fingers fall lightly
on those stops ordained to nature's
uses and, in the measure of his skill
and its own capacity, the marvel in
his hold gives forth its appointed
sound. It may be low and deep, it
may be high, thin, anti shrill, but to
some it has been given to hear, ut-
terly dismeyed, the tune of immortal
love rising by sweep and throb lo
the paradox of sudden death and a
cracked sounding board. I say the
love cry of the body and the sob of
the soul are not one; they are divid-
ed. I say that the wreckage of a
broken fiddle may have its peaceful
halo, shining supreme above the sorry
plane of vengeance."
He stopped, and in the silence ris-
ed his glass to his lips, but did not
drink. A frown gathered on his
brow, and as though the impartial
balance of his trained mind refused
to leave any caace half stated, he re-
placed the glass on the table and con-
tinued. "And now the player," he
said. "I re -member a great master
and the night of a great wager. We
were all invited guests and all men,
as befitted the occasion of a bet. A
gobetween had said to the master,
`Ribeau has wagered a hundred thou-
sand francs that if you will came to
dine to -night you will play unasked
for his guests.' It was an insolent
invitation. The master considered it
for a moment and then, accepting its
challenge, said, incisively, 'I shall
come; I will not play.'
"We were twelve at table, includ-
ing the guest of honor, and through-
out themeal our 'host steered the de-
sultory conversation clear of every
reference to music. I cannot tell you
what we talked about; I only know
that the keynote was premeditated
banality. After dinner we were led
to the drawing -room, where we had
engaged to stay till midnight, if the
wager vzere not settled earlier. As
we crossed the wide threshold the
eyes of all of us fell upon a violin
lying on a bare table which stood in
significant isolation in the middle of
the room. An angry flush mounted
to the brow of the Piaster; the rest
of us smiled, except our host. He
continued without a break the inane
patter of the dinner conversation.
"We stood about for a while, but
gradually one and then another of us
drew near to the violin. We didn't
touch it or mention it, perhaps out
of some idea of fair play; but speak-
ing for myself, I cial say it was be-
cause I recognized in the instrument
the last Stradivarius which had been
retently sold to an unknown purchas-
er at a fabulous price. It was old
with an unwithering age. The mot-
tled brown, shading here and there
into black, of its deep -bosomed arch,
seemed to have taken on the texture
of living bronze, arid yet, so delicate
were its merging c'urvete that ft ap-
peered a thing so light that a beeath
might waft it away.
"Needless to say we all watched the
master out of the corners of our eye,
At first he wee blustering in his
feigned indifreretere; then by nis le
dation the battle which w
on in his (breast earise Out
open and showed its progress in' lit*"
VQ1.13 laughter, 'twitching eyerws,
bulging eyes, strangely flutteriagarma
gers, and a dozen Other indications of
a deep-seated commotion.
"The moments grew tense and,
drumming through their pulsating
stilhiess, came the monotonous voice
of our host clinging tenaciously to its
string of platitudes. No one paid any
heed to him, least of all the master.
Gradually a prepossessioe seemed t�
seize upon, him; he sidled Absorbedly •
toward the violin and, without look..
ingdown, discvered it quickly by
touch alone and dragged a trailing
finger nail across the four taut
strings. They were accurately tuned.
Amazement and then a comical ter-
ror filled his face at the unexpected
rightness qf the notes. They hung
in the breathless air like a memory
of bells, widely spaced, each interval
a blank world of unwritten music
pleading for birth.
"For a moment we thought our
host's wager won, but as though our
assurance, had waked him from a
trance the raaster rushed from the
room into the adjacent hall, snatched
up his cloak, clapped on his quaint
beaver hat, started toward the door,
stopped, whirled, and returned as if
he had been dragged back by a lariat.
His cloak slipped to the floor and with
both hands outstretched he went
straight to the violin, picke.d it up
tenderly, raised and nestled it home.
For one instant the old man and his
hat were ludicrous; the next, they
were sublime.
"He caught up the bow, and at its
first long -drawn stroke a plaintive,
throbbing, waking ery quivered as
from some time -locked source of
omnipotent life. The master lifted
his face; tears were pouring down his
chees. He played a harmony as il-
lusive yet as individual as the disem-
bodied ghost of the genius who had
stored it in so fragile a wooden shell.
All music poured from the tiny cav-
ern, swelled to an overwhelming flood,
mounted chord upon chord to an in-
credibly aching sweetness, and sud-
denly burst the bounds of the finite,
cracked as to a pistol shot, and died
against the wall of eternal silence.
With a wailing cry of anguish the old
man dropped to his knees beside the
wrecked violin, and there we left him
with our host's trembling hand laid
reassuringly an his shoulder."
The speaker paused, but did nat
look at the rapt faces of his hearers.
"So with the player who trails a
careless finger across the strings of
the human eddle," he continued, "and
finds himself snared in the trap of
mastery. He can no more stop short
of possession than can a flowing river
refuse to find the sea."
Words, only words, and yet, had
they been present in Bourne's mind
during these first few weeks of his
marriage, they might have given him
a single truth, standing like a fixed
point, against which he could have
measured the sp'eed of the flood that
was bearing him toward individual
disaster. They might even have derv -
ed as a landmark to guide him into
deep but tranquil waters, for Alio-
way's nature was peculiarly 'malle-
able. She might have responded to
raison, though with a sigh, had rea-
stoning been his mood. But it. was
not. He hati accepted in good faith
a strange girl's fanciful stipulation
that he should possess her only from
the moment of their first meeting,
but now the Ritt Bourne who had
made that light-hearted promise seem-
ed to bim a vague, far -away person
and the girl who had exacted it a
distant though lovable creature unre-
lated to blood and bone.
(Continued next week.)