HEART
oftho 1
SUNSET
r&? REX BEACH
Author o f' ‘ The Spoilers" “ The Iron Trail,"
“The Silver Horde,” Etc.
Ctim* 4r
I
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER I—Set afoot and alone by an
ac< ident in the desert near the Rio Grande
Mrs. Alaire Austin, mistress of Las l’al
sias and l^a Eeria ranches, meets L)a\e
Law. Texas Ranger, at a water hole and
is compelled tq spend the night there with 1
him, »s he is in ambush for a murderer
and cannot leave his post.
CHAPTER II—Next day at evening the
murderer appears with a companion.
CHAPTER III—Iaw captures the mur
derer but is compelled to kill his eompan- !
Ion, i'anfilo Sanchez, who happens to he '
a cousin of Mrs. Austin's horsebreaker. 1
Jose Sanchez.
CHAPTER IV—At Las Palmas Alaire
tells her husband, Ed, that his carousals
and inebriety must stop. Her cattle
at lai Feria, the Mexican ranch, are con
fiscated by laingorlo, Mexican federal
general, and site finds that it is because
Ed has been helping the rebel Junta.
CHAPTER VI—Entertained at their
home by Blaze Jones and his daughter
l'alonia. Dave hears something about the
Tad Lewis outfit, which is suspected of
cattle stealing. With Ricardo Guzman and
his boys Dave and Blaze go on a scout
after cattle thieves.
CHAPTER VII—Law catches two of the
I.ewis outfit branding a stolen calf and in
a tight kills one and has his horse shot
under him. He trails the other thief to
I.as Palmas, where he Is Insulted by Ed i
Austin, whom he knows to bo very friend
ly with the Lewis outfit.
CHAPTER VIII—I,aw follows up the
trail of Urbina, the escaped thief, to no
purpose except to confirm Austin's con
nection with the Lewis outfit.
CHAPTER TX—On her homcw'ard Jour
ney Alaire again meets Longorlo. who
openly makes love to her. She obtains
the release of Juan Garcia from prison.
CHAPTER X—Jose Sanchez Rwears to
find out the truth about the slaying of
Panfilo. Dave gets further information i
about the Lewis outfit. Ricardo Guzman
goes to Mexico to sell horses to the fed
erate.
“Yon do~ speak their language,” :
Alaire said, after she had watched j
them for u few minutes. “You have I
bewitched the creature.” Duve nod*
CHAPTER XI—Dave and Alaire attend
the l.as Palmas rodeo. She presents Dave
with a horse to replace the one killed bv
tlie cattle thieves. They discuss the kill
ing of Panfilo.
CHAPTER XII—Guzman docs not re
turn from Mexico and his reported killing
arouses %nerirans. Dave and Blaze ar
range to go to Romero across the river
and recover the body. Jose hears that
Dave killed Pantllo arid goes to join Lon
gorlo. Paloma and Alalre arrange to go
to the river to await the return of Blaze
and l>ave. Longorio appears at I.as Pal
mas with an escort and overhears Ed
telephoning news of the trip after Guz
man to Tad Lewis.
CHAPTER XIII—Ixin'gorlo compels Ed
to go to the river with him. The girls
follow and hide in the pumphouse. The
Lewis outfit appears. When Blaze and
Dave cross the river a general mix-up is
prevented by Captain Evans and his rang
ers who appear on the scene and support
Dave. Dave arrests Urbina.
“I saw you dodge in here like n—
gopher.”
Blaze confessed : ‘‘I reckon I've got
the willies. Every woman I see looks
like tintt dressmaker.’
“Paloma was telling me about you.
Why do you hate her so?”
“I don’t know ’s I Utile her. hut her
and her husband have put a jinx on
me. They’re the worst people 1 ever
see, Mlz Austin.”
“You don’t really believe in such
things?”
Blaze dusted off a seat for his visi
tor, saying: "I never did till lately,
hut now I’m worse than a plantation
nigger. I tell you there’s things in
this world we don’t sabe. I wish you'd
gel I'aloma to fire her. I’ve tried anti
failed. I wish you’d fell her those
dresses are rotten.”
“But they’re very nice; they’re love
ly; and I’ve just been complimenting
her. Now what 1ms ibis woman done
to you?”
It seemed impossible that a man of
Blaze Jones’ character could actually
L"
//' JVAlWTWfl?“"*
The Door of a Harness Closet Opened,
and Out of the Blackness Peered
Paloma's Father.
harbor crude superstitions, and yet
there was no mistaking his earnest
Bess when he said:
“I ain't surp Whether she’s to Marne,
or lier husband, but misfortune lias
folded me to herself.”
“Well, I'm sick.”
"You don't look it.”
“I don’t exactly l'eel it, either, but
I a in. I don't sleep good, my heart's
actin’ up. I've got rheumatism, my
stomach feels like I’d swallowed some
thing alive—”
“You’re smoking too much,” Alaire
affirmed, with conviction.
P>ut skepticism aroused Blaze's in
dignation. With elaborate sarcasm, he
retorted: “I reckon that's why my best
team of mules ran away and dragged
hie through a ten-acre patch of grass
burrs, eh? It’s n wonder I wasn’t
killed. I reckon I smoked so much
that I give a tobacco heart to t lie best
three-year-old hull in my pasture!
Well, I smoked him to death, all right.
Probably it was nicotine poisonin’ that
killed twenty acres of my cotton, too;
and maybe if I'd cut out tobacco I'd
have floated that bond issue on the
irrigation ditch. But I was wedded to
cigarettes, so my hanks are closin'
down on me. Sure! That’s what a
man gets for smokin’.”
“And do you attribute nil these mis
fortunes to Pakunii’s dressmaker?”
Tiie man nodded gloomily. “That
nin't half! Everything goes wrong.
I’m scared to pack a weapon for fear
I'll injure myself. Why, I’ve carried
a bowie knife in my bootleg ever since
I was a babe in arms, you might say;
but the other day I jabbed myself
with it and nearly got blood-poisonin’.
This fellow. Strange, with Ids fortune
idlin’ and his charms and his eonjyres,
has hocus-pocused tlie whole neigh
borhood. lie's gettin' rich off of the
Mexicans. He knows more secrets
than a parrot.”
“lie is nothing more than n circus
fakir, Mr. Jones.”
“Yes'in! Just the same, these greas
ers 'd vote him into the legislature if
he asked them. Why, he knows who
fetched back IUeardo Guzman’s body!
He told me so.”
jxeniiy: Aiaire looked up quickly,
then the smile left her face. After n
moment *he said, “Perhaps he could
tell me something I want to know?”
“No, don’t you get him started,”
Blaze cautioned, hastily, “or lie’Ll put a
spell on you like he did on me.”
"I want to know what Ed had to do
with the Guzman affair.”
Blaze shook his head slowly. “Well,
he's mixed up somehow with Lewis.
Pave thinks Tad was at the bottom
of the killin’, and he hoped to prove
it on him; hut our government won't
do anything, and he’s stumped for the
time bein’. I don’t know any more
about Ed’s dealin's than you do, Miz
Austin; all I know is that I got a ser
pent in my household and I can't get
shed of her. I’ve got a lapful of
troubles of my own.”
“This Is too occult for me,” she de
clared. rising. “But—I’m interested in
what you say about Mr. Strange. If
the Mexicans tell him so much, perhaps
he can tell me something. I do hope
you have no more misfortunes.”
“You stay to supper,” Blaze urged
hospitably. “I’ll be in as soon ns that
tarantula’s gone.”
But Alaire declined. After it brief
chat with I’alonin, she remounted
Montrose and prepared for the home
ward ride. At the gate, however, she
met Dave Law on his new mare, and
when Dave had learned the object of
her visit to Jonesville he Insisted upon
accompanying her.
it was early dusk when they reached
Las Palmas; it was nearly midnight
ohen Dave threw his leg across his
saddle and started home.
Alaire’s parting words rang sweetly
in his ears; “This has been the pleas
antest day 1 can remember.”
The words themselves meant little,
but Dave had caught a wistful under
tone In the speaker’s voire, and fancied
He had seen in her eyes a queer, half
frightened expression, as of one just
awakened.
.lose Sanchez hnd beheld Dave Law
id the Las Palmas table twice within
a few days. He spent this evening la
boriously composing a latter to his
friend and patron, Gen. Luis Lougoiio.
CHAPTER XV.
An Awakening.
Time was when Phil Strange boasted
that lie and his wife hnd played every
fairground and seaside amusement
park from Coney island to Galveston.
Ju his battered wardrobe trunks were
parts of old costumes, scrapbooks of
clippings, and a goodly collection of
lithographs, some advertising the su
pernatural powers of “Professor M igi,
Sovereign of the Unseen World,” and
others the accomplishments of “Mile.
Le Garde, Renowned Serpent Eneh-n
tress.” In these gaudy portraits of
“Magi the Mystic" no one would have
recognized Phil Strange. Aud even
more difficult would IF have been to
trace a resemblance between Mrs.
Strange and the blond, bushy-headed
“Mile. Be Garde” of the posters. Nev
ertheless, the likenesses at one time
had been considered not too flattering,
and Phil treasured them as evidences
of imperishable distinction.
But the Stranges had tired of public
life. For a long time the wife hud
confessed to a lack of interest in her
vocation which amounted almost to a
repugnance. Snake-charming, she had
discovered, was far from sin ideal pro
fession for a woman of refinement. It
possessed unpleasant features, and
even such euphemistic titles as “Ser
pent Enchantress” and “lteptilian
Mesmerist” failed to rob the calling
of a certain odium, a suggestion of
vulgarity in the minds of the more
discriminating. This had become so
distressing to Mrs. Strange’s finer
sensibilities that she had voiced a
yearning to forsake the platform and
pit for something more congenial, and
finally she had prevailed upon Phil
to make a change.
The stop had not been taken without
misgivings, but a benign Providence
had watched over the pair. Mrs.
grange was a natural seamstress, and
luck had directed lx>r and Phil to a
community which was not only in need
of a good dressmaker but peculiarly
ripe for the talents of a soothsayer.
Phil, too, had intended to embrace a
new profession; hut he had soon dis
covered that Jonesvllle offered better
financial returns to a man of his ac
cepted gifts than did the choicest of
seaside concessions, and therefore lie
had resumed his old calling under a
slightly different guise. Before long
lie acknowledged himself well pleased
with the new environment, for his wife
was far happier In draping dress goods
upon the figures of her customers than
hanging python folds about her own,
and lie found his own fame growing
with every day. His mediumistic gifts
came into general demand. The coun
try-people jimrneyed miles to consult
him, and Blaze Jones’ statement that
they confided in the fortune-teller as
they would have confided in a priest
was scarcely an exaggeration. Phil
did Indeed become the repository for
confessions of many sorts.
Contrary to Blaze’s belief, however,
Strange was no Prince of Darkness,
and took little joy in some of the se
crets forced upon him. Phil was a
good man in his way—so conscientious
that certain information he acquired
weighed him down with a sense of un
I II ~~-. ii pfrAaW
I “ 1 wartT/Kt—
"Over Her Head Floats a Skeleton—n
deasant responsibility. Chancing to
meet Dave Latv one day, lie determined
to relieve himself of at least one
troublesome burden.
But Dave was not easily approach
able. lie met the medium's allusions
to the occult with contemptuous amuse
ment, nor would lie consent to a pri
vate “reading.” Strange grew almost
desperate enough to speak the ungar
nished truth.
“You’d better pay a little attention
to me.” he grieved; “I’ve got a mes
sage to you from the ‘Unseen World.’ ’
“Charges ‘collect,’ I reckon,” the
Ranger grinned.
miaoge «iivcu nsim* me suggestion.
‘It came unbidden, and 1 pass it on
for what it’s worth.” As Dave turned
away, lie added, hastily, “It’s about a
skeleton in the chaparral, and a red
haired 'voinan.”
Dave stopped; he eyed the speaker
curiously. “(Jo on,” said lie.
Hut a public street. Strange ex
plained, was no place for psychic dis
cussions. Dave agreed. When they
were alone ju the lortune-telling “par
lor,” he sat back while the medium
closed his eyes and prepared to explore
the Invisible. After a brief delay I'hil
began:
“I see n great mnny things—that
woman I told you about, and three
men. One of ’em is you, tin* other two
is Mexicans. You’re at a water hole
in the mesqulte. Now there’s a shoot
ing scrape; I see the body of a dead
man. And now the scene changes.
Everything dissolves. I’m iti a man
sion; mid the red-haired woman comes
toward me. Over her head floats a
skeleton—”
Dave broke in crisply. “All right!
Let’s get down to cases. What’s on
your mind, Strange?”
The psychic simulated a shudder—
a painful contortion, such as anyone
might suffer if rudely jerked out of
the spirit world.
“Eh? What wrr I—? There! You’ve
broke the connection,” lie declared.
I “Did I tell you anything?"
“No. Hut evidently you can.”
“I’m sorry. They never come hack.'
Mfcan*. ■ - mr -——-. - -
••not r
I’hll was hurt, indignant. With Hunt
stiffness he explained the danger ol
interrupting a seance of this sort, but
Law remained obdurate.
“You can put over that second-sight
stuff with the greasers,” he declared
sharply, “but not with me. So, Jose
Sanchez has been to see you and you
want to warn me. Is that it?"
“I don’t know any such party,”
Strange protested. He eyed his caller
for a moment; then with an abrupt
change of manner he complained:
“Say, Bo! Wh-it's the matter with
you? I’ve got a reputation to protect,
and I do things ny own way. I’tn get
ting set to slip jgtu something, and you
try to make nw..- look like a sucker.
Is that any way to act?”
"I prefer to talk to you when your
eyes are open. I know all about—”
“You don’t know nothing about any
thing,” snapped the other. “Jose’s got
it in for Mrs. Austin.”
“You said you didn’t know him.”
“Well, I don’t. He’s never been to
see me in his life, but—his sweetheart
has. ltosa Morales comes regular.”
“Rosa ! Jose’s sweetheart!"
"Yes. Her and Jose have Joined out
together since you shot I’anfilo, and
they're framing something.”
“What, for instance?”
The fortune-teller hesitated. “I only
wish I knew/ he said slowly. “It
looks to be like « billing.”
Dave noddeC ‘Probably is. Jose
would like to 0*- le, and of course the
girl—”
“Oh. they don’t aim to get you. You
ain’t the one they’re after.”
“No? Who, then?”
“1 don’t know nothing definite. In
this business, you understand, a fel
low has to put two and two together.
All the same, I’m sure Jose ain’t carv
ing no epitaph for you. From what
I've dug out of Rosa, he’s acting for a
third party—somebody with pull ami a
lot of coin—but who it is I don’t know.
Anyhow, he’s cooking trouble for the
Austins, and I want to stand from
under.”
Now that the speaker had dropped
nil pretense, he answered Dave’s ques
tions without evasion und told what
he knew. It was not much, to Dave’s
way of thinking, but it was enough to
give cause for thought, and when the
men finally parted it was with the un
derstanding that Strange would
promptly communicate any further in
telligence on this subject that came
his way.
On the following day Dave’s duties
called him to Brownsville, where court
was in session. He had planned to
leave by the morning train; but as he
continued to meditate over Strange's
words, he decided that, before going,
he ought to advise Alai re of the fel
low’s suspicions in order that she
might discharge Jose Sanchez and in
other ways protect herself against his
possible spite. Since the matter was
one that could not well be talked over
by telephone, Dave determined to go
in person to Las Palmas that evening.
Truth to say, he was hungry to see
Aluire. By this time lie had almost
ceased to combat the feeling she
aroused in him, and it was in obedience
to an impulse far stronger than friend
ly anxiety that he hired a machine and,
shortly after dark, took the river road.
The Fates are malicious jades. They
delight in playing ill-natured pranks
upon us. Not content witli spinning
and measuring and cutting the threads
of our lives to suit themselves, they
must also tangle the skein, causing us
to cut capers to satisfy their whims.
At no time since meeting Aluire had
Dove Law been more certain of his
moral strength than on this evening;
at no time had his grip upon himself
seemed firmer. Nor had Alaire the
least reason to doubt her self-control.
Dave, to be sure, had appealed to her
fancy and her interest; in fact, he so
dominated her thoughts that the im
aginary creature whom she called her
dream-husband had gradually taken on
his physical likeness. But the idea
that she was in any way enamored
of him hud never entered his mind. In
such wise do the Fates amuse them
selves. ,
Aiaire n«a gone to ner favorite after
dinner refuge, a nook on one of tiie
side galleries, where there was a wide,
swinging wicker couch; and there, in
a restful obscurity fragrant with flow
ers, she had prepared to spend the
evening with her dreams.
She did not hear Dave’s automobile
arrive. Her tirst intimation of his
presence came with the sound of his
heel upon the porch. When he ap
peared, it was almost like the mate
rialization of her uppermost thought—
quite ns if a figure from her fancy had
Stepped forth full-clad.
She rose and met him, smiling. “How
did you know I wanted to see you?”
she Inquired.
Dave took her hand and looked down
at her, framing a commonplace reply.
But for some reason the words lay un
spoken upon his tongue. Alaire’s in
formal greeting, her parted lips, the
welcoming light in her eyes, had sent
them flying. It seemed to him that the
dim half-light which Illumined this
nook emanated from her face and her
person, that the fragrance which came
to his nostrils was the perfume of her
breath, and at tin1 prompting of these
thoughts all his smothered longings
rose as if at a signal. As mutinous
prisoners iu a jail delivery overpower
their guards, so did Dave’s long-re
pressed emotions gain the upper hand
of him now, and so swift was their
uprising thut he could not summon
more than a feeble, panicky resistance.
The awkwardness of the pause which
followed Aluire’s inquiry strengthened
the rebellious impulses within him, and
quite unconsciotisly his friendly grasp
upon her fingers tighteued. For her
port, a? sTlT' Saw flus "sudden -FhaTrgh
sweep over him, her own face altered
and she felt something within her
breast leap into life. No woman could
have failed to read the meaning of his
sudden agitation, n»4, strange to say,
it worked a similar state of feeling
in Aiaire. She strove to control her
self and to draw away tut instead
found that her hand id answered
his, and that her e.vaf fere flashing
recognition of his look All In an In
stant she realized how deuthly tired
of her own struggle she had become,
and experienced a reckless impulse to
cast away all restraint and blindly
meet his first advance. She had no
time to question her yearnings; she
seemed to understand only that this
man offered her rest and security; that
in his arms lay sanctuary.
To both it seemed that they stood
there silently, hand in hand, for a
very long time, though in reality there
was scarcely a moment of hesitation
on the part of either. A drank*,
breathless instant of uncertainty, than
Aiaire was on Dave’s breast, and Lis
strength, his ardor, his desire, was
throbbing through her. Her bare arms
were about his neck ; a sigh, the token
of utter surrender, fluttered from her
throat. She raised her face to Ills and
their lips molted together.
“Drenm-mnn!” she murmured.
As consciousness returns after a
swoon, so did realization return to
Aiaire Austin. Faintly, uncertnli/y at
first, then with a swift, strong ■ £ort,
\ \
“Dream Man!” She Murmured.
she pushed herself out of Dave’s reluc
tant arms. They stood apart, fright
i ened. Dave’s gaze was questioning,
j Alaire began to tremble and to struggle
with her breath.
“Are we—mad?” she gasped. "What
have we done?”
“There’s no use fighting. It was
here—it was bound to come out. Oh,
Aluire—!!”
“Don’t!” She shook her head, and,
avoiding his outstretched hands, went
to the edge of the veranda and leaned
weakly against a pillar, with her head
in the crook of her arm. Dave fol
lowed her, hut the words he spoke
were scarcely Intelligible.
Finally she raised her face to his:
“No! It Is useless to deny it—now
that we know. But I didn't know, un
til a moment ago.”
“I’ve known all the time—ever since
the first moment I saw you,” he told
her. hoarsely. “To me you're all there
is; nothing else matters. And you love
me! I wonder if I'm awake.”
“Dream-man,” she repeated, more
slowly. “Oh, why did you come so
lute?”
“So late?”
ics. vie must uiiiiK it om, tne
best way wo can. I—wonder what you
tliiuk ol' me?”
“You must know. There's no need
for excuses; there’s nothing to explain,
except the miracle that such great
happiness could come to a fellow like
me.”
“Happiness? It means anything hut
that. 1 was miserable enough before,
what shall 1 do now?”
“Why, readjust your life,” lie cried,
roughly. “Surely you won’t hesitate
after this?”
But Alaire did not seem to hear him.
She was staring out into the night
again. “What a failure I must tie!"
she murmured, tinnlty. “I suppose I
should have seen this coming, but—I
didn’t. And in his house, too! This
dress is his. and these jewels—every
thing!” She held up her hands and
stared curiously at the few rings sn«
wore, as if seeing them for the first
time. “How does thut make you feel?”
Dave stirred; there was resentment
In Ids voice when lie answered: “Your
husband has sacrificed his claim to
you, us everybody knows. To m.v mind
he has lost his rights. You're mine,
mine!” Ib1 waved a vigorous gesture
of defiance. “I’il take you away from
him at any cost. I’ll see thut he gives
you nil, somehow. You’re all I have."
“Of course the law provides a way,
hut you wouldn’t, couldn’t, understand
how 1 feel about divorce." The mere
mention of the word was difficult, and
caused Alaire to clench her hands.
“We’re both too shaken to talk saugly
now, so let’s wait—”
"There’s something you must under
stand before we go any further," Pave
insisted. “I’m poor; 1 haven't a thing
1 can call my own, so I’m not sure !•
have any right to tnke you away from
all this." He turned a hostile eye upoc
their surroundings.
"Money means so llttlev and It’s sc
easy ToTie Tiuppy without “If,-” XIaIr*
told him. “But I’m not altogether poor
Of course everything here Is Ed’s, bul
I have enough. All my life I’ve hac
everything except the very thing you
offer—and how I’ve longed for that!
How I’ve envied other people 1 Do you
think I’ll be allowed, somehow, to have
itr
“Yes! I've something to say about
that. You gave me the right when
you gave that kiss.”
Alalre shook her head. “I'm not sc
sure. It seems easy now, while you
are here, but how will It Seem later!
I’m In no condition at this minute tc
reason. Perhaps, as you say, It Is all
a dream; perhaps this feeling I have
is Just a passing frenzy.”
Dave laughed softly, confidently.
“It’s too new yet for you to under
stand—but wait. It Is frenzy, witch
ery—yes, and more. Tomorrow,, and
every day after, it will grow nnd grow
and grow! Trust me. I’ve watched it
In myself."
“So yon cared for me from the very
first?” Alalre questioned. It was the
woman’s curiosity, the woman's hunger
to hear over nnd over again that truth
which never falls to thrill and yel
never fully satisfies.
“Oh, even before that, I think I When
you came to my fire that evening In
the chaparral, I knew every line of
your face, every movement of your
body, every tone of your voice, as a
man knows and recognizes his ideal.
But It took time for me to realize all
that you meant to me.”
Alalfe nodded. “Yes, and It must
have been the same with me.” She
met his eyes frankly, but when he
reached toward her she held him away.
“No. denr. Not yet, not again, not
until we have the right. It would be
better for us both if you went away
now.”
“No, no! Oh. T have so much to say!
I’ve been dumb all my life, and you’ve
Just opened my lips.”
“Please! Afler I’ve decided what
to do—once I feel that I can control
myself better—I'll send for you. But
you must promise not to oome until
then, for yon would only make II
harder.”
At last he took her hand and kissed
her wrist, just over her pulse,-as if
to speed a message to her heart, then
into her rosy palm be whispered a ten
der something that thrilled her.
She stood white, motionless, against
the dim Illumination of the porch until
he had gone, and not until the last
sound of his motor had died away did
she stir. Then she pressed her own
Ups to the palm he had caressed and
W’alked slowly to her room.
CHAPTER XVI.
W'f~ _ «**■>
The Crash.
The several days following Dare’s
unexpected call at Las Palmas Alalre
spent In a delightful reverie. She had
bo often wrestled with the question of
divorce that she had begun to weary
of it. She pave up trying, at length,
and for the time being rested content
in the knowledge that she loved and
was loved. A week passed while she
hugged her thoughts to her breast, and
then one evening she rode home t(*
learn that Ed had returned from Sara
Antonio.
But Ed was 111, and he did not ap
pear at dinner. It had been yenrs
since either had dnred invade the oth
er’s privacy, and now. inasmuch as her
husband did not send for her, Alnire'
did not presume to offer her services as
nurse. As a matter of fact, she con
sidered this quite unnecessary, for sha*
felt sure that he was either suffering
the customary after-effeets of a visit tie
the city or else that he lucked i|ie
moral courage to undertake an expla
nation of his hurried flight from thf*
ranch. In either event she was glad
he kept to his room.
" nen Austin marie his appearance,
on the day following his return, his;
bleared eyes, his puffy, pasty cheeks,
his shattered nerves, showed plaiuly
enough liow he hud spent; his time. Al
though he was jumpy and Irritable, her
seemed determined h.v an assumption
of high spirits and exaggerated friend
liness to avert criticism. Since A hi ire
spared him nil reproaches, his efforts;
seemed to meet with admirable suc
cess. Now Ed's opinion of women was;
not high, for those with whom he ha
hltuully associated were of small in
telligence; and, seeing that his wife
continued to manifest a complete lu
dlffereuce to his past actions, he de
cided that his apprehensions had beets
groundless. If Alalre remembered the
Guzman nffair at nil, or if she had sus
pected him of complicity in it, time hatt
evidently dulled her suspicions, and he
was a little sorry he had taken painsi
to stay away so long.
Before many days, however, he dis
covered that this indifference of hers
was not assumed, and that in some
way or other she had changed. Ed
was accustomed, when he returned ex
hausted from a debauch, to seeing in
his wife’s eyes a strained misery r he
had learned to expect in her bearing
a sort of pitying, hopeless resignation.
But this time she was not In the least
depressed. On the contrary, she ap
peared happier, fresher, and—younger
tiian he had seen her for a long time..
It was mystifying. When, one morn
ing, he overheard her singing in her
room, he was shocked. Over this phe
nomenon he meditated with growing
amazement and a faint stir of resent
ment in his breast, for he lived a self
centered life, considering hinwrtf the
fairs of ids little world. To feel that
he hud lost even the power to njake
his wife unhappy argued that lie had
overestimated his importance.
(Continued Next Week.)