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wlttflk . CHAPTER I. At the Stage Door. Courtlandt sat perfectly straight ; Ills ample shoulders did not touch the Stack of his chair; and his arms were . (folded tightly across his chest The characteristic of his attitude ««/ tenseness. The nostrils were well deifined, as In one who sets the upper flaw hard upon the nether. Hie brown iwes— their gaze directed toward the (stage whence came the voice of the {prima donna— epitomized the tension, icxpressed the whole as in a word. Just now the voice was pathetically wqbdued, yet reached every part of the laoditorium, kindling the ear with its singularly mellowing sweetness. To ICourtlandt It resembled, as no other toound, the note of a muffled Burmese {gong, struck in the dim incensed cavjern of a temple. A Burmese gong: (briefly and magically the stage, the (audience, the amazing gleam and scintillation of the Opera, faded. He (heard only the voice and saw only | the purple shadows in the temple at [Rangoon, the oriental 6unset splash- | Sng the golden dome, the wavering ; lights of the dripping candles, the dead powers, the kneeling devotee*, the (yellow-robed priests, the tatters of — (gold-leaf, fresh and old, upon the rows , (of placid grinning Buddhas. The : French horns 'blared and the timpani j (crashed. The curtain sack slowly. 1 (The audience rustled, stood up, sought tits wraps, and passed toward the exits and the grand staircase. It was «dl over. Courtlandt took his leave In leisure. iHere and there he saw familiar faces, (but these, after the finding glance, he •tudlously avoided. He wanted to be alone. Outside be lighted a cigar, not because at that moment he possessed * craving for nicotine, but because like all Inveterate smokers he believed thot tobacco conduced to clarity of thought. And mayhap it did. At lease, there presently followed a mental calm that expelled all this confusion. The goal waxed and waned as he gazed down the great avenue with Its precise rows of lamps. Par away he could discern the outline of the brooding Louvre. There was not the leaet hope In the world for him to proceed toward his goal this night. He realized this clearly, now that he was face to face with actualities. A wild desire seized him to make a night of It — Maxim's, the cabarets; riot and wine. Who cared? But the desire burnt Itself out between two puffs ot his cigar. Ten years ago, perhaps, this brand of amuseznent might have urged hiih successfully. But not now; he was done with tomfool nights. Indeed, his dissipations had been whimsical rather than brutal; and retrospection never aroused a furtive sense of shame. He was young, but not so young as an Idle glance might conjecture in .passing. To such casual reckoning he appeared to be In the early twenties; but scrutiny, more or less Infallible, noting a line here or an angle there, was disposed to add ten years to the score. There was in the nose and chin a certain decisiveness which In true youth is rarely developed. This characteristic arrives only with manhood, manhood that has been tried and perhaps buffeted and perchance anu pernaps Dnnetea ana percnance

a little disillusioned. What was one to do who had both money and leisure linked to an irresistible desire to leave behind one place or thing in pursuit of another, Indeterminately? The Inherent ambition was to make money; but recognising the absurdity of adding to his Income, which even in his extravagance he could not spend, he gave himself over Into the hands of grasp Ing railroad and steamship companies, or their agencies, anu became for a time the slave of guide and dragoman and carrier. And then the wanderlust, descended to him from the blood ol his roving Dutch ancestors, which had lain dormant in the several genera tlona following, sprang Into active life again. He became known In ever) port of calL He became known alsc In the wildernesses. Whatever had for the moment ap pealed to his fancy, that he had done He was alone, absolute master of hii millions. Mammas with marriageable daughters declared that be was lmpos slble; the marriageable daughter) never had a chance to decide one waj or. the other; and men called him t fool. He had promoted elephant fighti aphlch had stirred the Indian princei out of their melancholy indifference and tiger hunts, which had. by their duration and magnificence, threatened to disrupt the efficiency of the British military service — whimsical excesses, not understandable by his intimate acquaintances who cynically arraigned him as the fool and his money. But, like the villain in the play, his Income still pursued him. Certain uoandsls inevitably followed, scandals -be was the last to hear about and the last to deny when he heard them. tlCany persons, not being able to taks Into the mind ahd analyse a character tICka Courtlandfz, sought the line of least reels t^acs for their undentandtaS. ta4 ijriM irsctoua exploits

which Included dusky Island prin- 1 cesses, diaphanous dancers, and comio- ' opera stare. Simply, he was without a direction; 1 a thousand goals surrounded him and f none burned with that brightness ' which draws a man toward his des- f ,iiny: until one day. Personally, he ' ' 'possessed graces of form and feature, ( and was keener mentally than most « young men who Inherit great fortunes < and distinguished names. j i • •••••• i Automobiles of all kinds panted I hither and thither. An occasional 1 smart conpe went by as if to prove 1 that prancing horses were still neces- i sary to the dignity of the old aristocracy. Courtlandt made up his mind I suddenly. He laughed with bitterness. He kneJr now that to loiter near the ' stage entrance had been his real pur- 1 pose all along, and persistent lying to ! himself had not prevailed, in due i I time he took his stand among the j 1 gilded youth who were not privileged j i (like their more prosperous elders) to j i wait outside the dressing rooms for ; i I their particular ballerina. By and by j i ! there was a little respectful commo- i i • tion. Courtlandt'8 hand went Instinct- j i ively to his collar, not to ascertain if i It were properly adjusted, but rather t t to relieve the sudden pressure. He i was enraged at his weakness. He I i wanted to turn away, but he could not. , i j A woman Issued forth, muffled In j silks and light furs. She was followed j ; by another, quite posslhly her maid. • I One may observe very well at times • from the corner of the eye; that Is, j objects at which one is not looking I come within the range of vision. The j woman paused, her foot upon the step j ot the modest limousine. She whls- j < pered something hurriedly Into her i companion's ear, something evidently j to the puzzlement of the latter, who looked around irresolutely. She j ■ obeyed, however, and retreated to the j stage entrance. A man, quite as tall ( as Courtlandt, his face shaded carefully, intentionally perhaps, by one of ( those soft Bavarian hats that are worn successfully only by Germans. ] stepped out of the gathering to prof- i fer his assistance. Courtlandt pushed him aside calmly, lifted his hat, and { smiling ironically, closed the door behind the singer. The step which the i other man made toward Courtlandt ; was unequivocal In Its meaning. But even as Courtlandt squared himself to meet the coming outburst, the stranger paused, shrugged his shoulders, turned and made off. The lady in the limousine — very pale could any have looked closely In- • to her face — was whirled away Into the j night Courtlandt did not stir from | the curb. The limousine dwindled. , once It flashed under a light, and then ! vanished. "It Is the American," said one of . the waiting dandies. "The Icicle!" "The volcano, rather, which fools i believe extinct" "Probably sent back her maid for her Bible. Ah, these Americans ; they are very amusing." "She was In magnificent voice tonight I wonder why she never sings Carmen?" "Have I not said that she Is too j cold? What! Would you see frost

I A Woman Issued Forth. 1 grow upon the toreador's mustache? ■ And what a name, what a name! " Eleanors da Toscana!" 3 Courtlandt was not In the most amiable condition of mind, and a hint s of the ribald would have Instantly a transformed a passive anger into a a blind fury. Thus, a scene hung prea cariously; but its potentialities beL came as nothing on the appearanoe of a another woman. » r This woman was richly dressed, toe t richly. She was followed by a'Rueaian. huge of body, Joriaa of eountea .nance. An expensive car rolled ap te

• '"ItlSfi. j the curb. A liveried footman Jumped ' down from beside the chauffeur and opened the door. The diva turned head this way and that, a thin ; smile of satisfaction stirring her lips, i For Flora Desimone loved the human ! eye whenever It stared admiration into j her own : and she spent half her days | setting traps and lures, rather sue- j cessfully. She and her formidable es- 1 cort got Into the car which immediately went away with a soft purring sound. There was breeding In the engine, anyhow, thought Courtlandt, who longed to put his strong fingers around that luxurious throat which had, but a second gone, passed him so closely. He turned down the Rue Royale, on opposite side, and wept Into the Taverne Royale, where the patrons not over particular in regard to the laws of fashion, and where certain with light histories sought j further adventures to add to their ! Now, Courtlandt thought neither of the one nor of the other. He j deslrc-d isolation, safety from ' intru1 sion; and berg, did he so signfy, he i could find it. He sat down at a vacant table and ordered a pint of champagne, ■ drinking hastily rather than thirstily, Wouffl monsieur like anything to | eat? No, the wine was sufficient. 1 I Courtlandt poured out a second glass i slowly. The wine bubbled up to the 1 brim and overflowed. He had been looking at the glass with unseeing • eyes. He set the bottle down impatiently. Foolf To have gone to BurI ina, simply to stand In the golden temple once more, in vain, to recall j that other time; the starving kitten held tenderly in a woman's arms, his j own scurry among the booths to find I the milk so peremptorily ordered, and the smile of thanks that had been his reward! He had run away when he should have hung on. He should have fought every inch of the way. . . . | "Monsieur Is lonely?" A pretty young woman sat down bej fore him In the vacant chair. CHAPTER II. There Is a Woman? Anger, curiosity. Interest; these sei sations blanketed one another quickl] leaving only interest, which wa j Courtlandt's stale of mind when h saw a pretty woman. It did not ri quire very keen scrutiny on his pai ; to arrive swiftly at the conclusion ths this one was not quite in the pictur< . Her cheeks were not red with ths redness which has a permanency c tone, neither waxing nor van in; < abashed in daylight. Nor had her lip j found their scarlet moisture from ot the depths of certain little porcelal I boxes. Decidedly she was out of plac here, yet she evinced no embarras ment; sbe was cool, at ease. Cour | landt's Interest strengthened. | "Why do you think I am lonel; mademoiselle?" he asked, wlthot smiling. I "Oh, when one talks to one's eel strikes the table, wastes good wtoi the Inference is but natural. So, moi sieur is lonely." Her lips and eyes, as grave an 1 smilel ess as hie own, puzzled him. A ] adventure? He looked at some of tfc other women. Those he could unde stand, but this one, no. At all tim< DMiiU, UUV lUlO UUC, 111*. Ah Ul UUit

he was willing to smile, yet to draw her out he realized that he must pre- { serve his gravity unbroken. The situation was not usual, flis gaze came back to her. "Is the comparison favorable to me?" she asked. "It is. What is loneliness?" he de- j manded cynically. "Ah, I couid tell you." she answered, j "It is the longing to be with the one j we love; ft is the hate of the wicked 1 things we have done; it Is remoree." j "That echoes of the Amblgu-Com- j ique." "Would you spare me a glass of wine? I am thirsty." He struck his hands together, a bit of orientalism he had brought back ; with him. The observant waiter in- j stantly came forward with a glass. The young woman sipped the wine, ' gazing into the glass as she did so. I "Perhaps a whim brought me here. But I repeat, monsieur is lonely." ! "So lonely that I am almost tempted to put you into a taxlcab and run I away with you." She set dewn the glass. 1 "But I sha'nV he added. The spark of eagerness In her eyes ! was Instantly curtained. "There 1b a ( woman?" tentatively. "Is there not always a woman ?" "And she has disappointed monsieur?" There was no marked sym- ' pathy In the tone. "Since Eve, has that not been worn- ; an's part in the human comedy?" He was almost certain that her lips became firmer. "Smile, If you wish. It i is not prohibitory here." She lifted the wine-glass again, and then be noticed her hand. It wan large, white and strong; It was not the hand of a woman who dallied, who i Idled in primrose paths "Tell me. what is it you wish? Ton Interest me, at a moment, too, when I r i do not want to be totsreated. Are yon

am not In actual need of assistance." j ' "But you spoke peculiarly regarding i loneliness." i -Perhaps I like the melodrama. You ' spoke ol the Amblgu-Comlque." "You are on the stage?" "Perhaps." "The opera?" "Again perhaps." He laughed once more, and drew bis chair closer to the table. "You followed me here. From where?" "Followed you?" The effort to give a mocking accent to her voice was a failure. "Yes. The Idea Just occurred to me. : There were other vacant chairs, and there was nothing Inviting In my facial . xpressiop. Come, let me have the truth." "I have a friend who knows Flora Desimone." "Ah!" As if this Information was a direct visitation of kindness from the pods. "Then you know where the Calabrian lives? Give me her address." There was a minute wrinkle above the unknown's nose; the shadow of a frown. "She is very beautiful." "Bah! Did she send yoa after me? Give me Tier address. I have come all » the way from Burma to see Flora ! s Desimone." b "To see her?" She unguardedly > clothed the question with contempt, ! i but she Instantly forced a smile to j t neutralize the effect. Concerned with j r her own defined conclusions, she lost t the fine Ironic bitterness that was in a the man's voice. "Aye, Indeed, to see her! Beautiful 0 as Venus, as alluring as Phryne, I \ 1 want nothing so much as to see her. ' •• to look into Uj:r eyes, to hear her , '- voice!" 0 "Is It Jealousy? I hear the tragic , note." The certainty of her ground j became as moras3 again. In his turn he was puzzling her. 0 "Tragedy? I am an American. We j n do not kill opera singers. We turn 1 5 them over to the -critics. I wish to see the beautiful Flora, to ask ber a few < questions. If she has sent you after j 0 me, her address, my dear young lady, j her address." His eyes burned. 11 "I am afraid." And she was so. ® This wasn't the tone of a man madly | J* In love. It was wild anger. "Afraid of what?" 8 . "You." 0 j "I will give you a hundred francs." j ® He produced a crisp note. "Do you ; i want it?" ] She did not answer at once. Pres- ! ently she opened her purse, found a 1

"Why Do You TmnK l Am uoneiy, c Mademoiselle?" j { stubby pencil and a elip of paper, and wrote. "There It Is, monsieur." She J held out her hand for the banknote which, with a sense of bafflement, he gave her. She folded the note and I stowed It away with the pencil. 1 ( ! "Thank you," said Courtlandt. "Odd ( I paper, though." He turned it over. ( | "Ah, I understand. You copy music." ( ' "Yes,-Bionsleur." j , I This time the nervous flicker of ber ( eyes did not escape him. "You are , 1 studying for the opera, perhaps?" j "Yes, that Is it" j "Good night" He rose. , "Monsieur is not gallant" I "I was In my youth," he replied, pntj ting on his aSf m The bald ruHetass of his departure ' did not disturwber. She laughed soft- , ' ly and \relieveBly. Indeed, there was | in the liughtm- an essence ot mischief. ! Howevet, it/he carried away a mys- > tery. he; len one behind, j The ypupg woman waited five or ten j minutesj.and, making sure that CourtVlandt hi 1 been driven off. left the Yeetaun t Round the corner she engaged ! carriage- So that was Bdj Ward O irtlandt? She liked his face; i j there w 3 not a weak line In it unless | stubbor iiess could be called such. But to stay way for two years! To hide hinmelf n Jungles, to be heard of only j by As arebralned exploits! "Follow | hlm^nc ! where he goes," had been the , co&jmud. For a moment ehe_ hgd re- . bellediMbut her curioelty was not , to be den\d. Besides, jot what u fe eras i friendshfc If not to be triedf/fcbe j knew nomlng of the riddle, un had never asned a question opeay. She had accidentally seen a jAoto graph one day. Ml a trunk trayf with this man's name Vera* led serosa It, and upon this Base ate had bunded • a dosen rofcnnW of which ata tad re thirsty W daw* * mag*

' name Into the conversation many a d time, as one might throw a bomb Into p crowd which had no chance to es- a I cape. Fizzles! The man had been calmly discussed and calmly dls- K missed. At odd times an article In [ the newspapers gave her an oppor- _ tunlty; still the frank discussion, still r the calm dismissal. She had learned E that the man was rich. Irresponsible, e vacillating, a 'picturesque sort of fooL c But two years? What had kept him I a away that long? A weak man. In love, ' t would not have 'made so tame a sur- . j render. Perhaps he had not sur- j t rendered; perhaps neither ot them ( had. And yet, he sought the Calabrian. ! ( Here was another blind alley out of I ( which she had to retrace her steps, i . Bother! That Puck of Shakespeare ' was right: What fools these mortals . be! She was very glad that she pos- | , sessed a true sense of humor, spiced , j with harmless audacity. What a dreary ! , world It must be to those who did not I , know bow and when to laugh I' They j ( talked of the daring of the American ! ' woman; who but a Frenchwoman j would have dared what ehe had this . J night? The taxlcab! She laughed. ' And this mail was wax In the hands of ' any pretty woman who came along! . 1 So rumor had it. But she knew that ' ! rumor was ohly the attenuated ghost ' | of Ananias, doomed forever to remain j on earth for the propagation of inao- J curate whispers. Wax! Why, she | would have trusted herself In any sit- , 1 uatlon with a man with those eyes and j j that angle of Jaw. It was all very | mystifying. "Follow him; see where i ] | lie goes." The frank discussion, then, • end the calm dismissal were but a woman's dissimulation. And he had 1 gone to Flora Deslmone's. The carriage slopped before a hand- ; I some apartment bouse in the Avenue ' , de Wagratn. The unknown got out, ■ gave the driver his fare, and rang the' concierge's bell. The sleepy guardian , ; opened ther ""door, touched. -^ris gold- 7 i ' braided cap In recognition, and led the way to the small electric lift. The i 1 young woman entered and familiarly pushed the button. The apartment in ' which she lived was on the second , j floor; and there was luxury everyI where, but luxury subdued and ■ : charmed by taste. ' I She threw aside her hat and wraps I with that manner of inconsequence , which distinguishes the artistic tem- , pgrament from the thrifty one, and ' | passed on into the cozy dining room. I I The" maid had arranged some sand- j wiches and a bottle of light wine. She ' ■ ate and drank, while intermittent 1 ■ smiles played across her merry face. Having satisfied her hunger, she j opened her purse and extracted the banknote. She smoothed it out and laughed aloud. "Oh. if only he had taken me for a ride in the taxlcab!" She bubbled again with merriment. Suddenly she sprang up. as If In- j spired, and dashed into another room, | a study. Sbe came back with pen and Ink, and with a celerity that came of ! long practice, drew five straight lines j across the faint violet face of the bank- 1 note. Within these lines she made lit- j tie dots at the top and bottom of : stubby perpendicular strokes, and ' strange interlineal hieroglyphics, and sweeping curves, all of which would i have puzzled an Egyptologist If he ' were unused to the ways of musicians. ! Carefully she dried the composition, j and then put the note away. Some I day Bhe would confound blm by re- j turning it. A little later her fingers were mov- j tog softly over the piano keys ; melo- ] dies in minor, sad and haunting and' | elusive, melodies that had never been put on paper and would always' be her | own; to them she might leap from comedy to tragedy, from laughter to I tears, and only she would know. The i midnight adventure was forgotten, and I the hero of it, too. With her eyes

closed and her lithe body swaying j gently, she let the old weary pain in . her heart take bold again. CHAPTER III. The Beautiful Tigress. ! Flora Desimone had been born to a Calabrian peasant's hut, and she had , rolled In the dust outside, yelling vigorously at all times. Specialists de- ! clare that the reason for all great I singers coming from lowly origin is found to this early development of the throat. Parents of means employ | nurses or sedatives to suppress or at ! least to smother these infantile protests against being thrust inconslder- ' ately Into the turmoil of human beings. Flora yelled or slept, as the case might be; her parents were equally Indifferent. They were too concerned with the getting of bread and wine. Moreover. Flora was one among many. The gods are al- , I ways playing with the Calabrian pen- . ' Insula, heaving It up here or throwing : it down there; 11 terremoto, the earthquake, the terror. Here nature tlnk- j ers vicariously with souls; and sbe sel- j dom has time to complete her work, i Constant communion with death ' makes for callosity of feeling; and the i Calabrians and the Sicilians are the | cruelest among the civilized peoples. : Flora was ruthless. She lived amazingly well in the pre- ! mler of an apartment-hotel in the Champs-Elysees. In England and ' America she had amassed a fortune. 'Given the warm beauty of the south- ! era '((■11°". the passion, the tempera- ! ment, the love of mischief, the natural cruelty, the Inordinate craving for attention and flattery, she enlivened the nations with her affairs. And aha never pst a single beat of her heart Into any ef them. That la why ber roleels ■tm splendid and her beaaty unchangteg. Bhe did not dlaalpata; Clients;

plucked the Apple. Sbe had an example to follow; Eve had none. Men scattered fortunes at her faet foolish Greeks scattered floral of erings at the faet of their marble gods— without provoking the sense of reciprocity or generosity or mercy. had worked; ah, no one wonld know how hard. She had bean crushed, beaten, cursed, starved. That she had risen to the heights to spite of these bruising verbs to no manner enlarged her pity, bat dulled and vitiated the little there was of it. Her mental attitude toward humanity was ehildi ish; as. when the parent strikes, the child blindly strikes back. Sbe was determined to play, to enjoy life, to I give back blow for blow, nor caring ! where 6be struck. 'She was going to j press the Juice from every grape. A ' thousand odd years gone, she would ; led the cry to Rome — "Bread and the circus!" or 'To the lions!" She | would have disturbed Nero's compla1 cency. and he would have played an I obbligato instead of a solo at the burnI lng. And she was malice incarnate. I They came from all climes— her lov- — with roubles and lire and franca and shillings and dollars; and those i who finally escaped her enchantment did so Involuntarily, for lack of further funds. They called her villas Clrte'e isles. She hated but two things to the world; the man she could have loved! and the woman she could hot surpass, i Some one was at the speaking-tube. The singer crossed the room impatiently. "What is It?" she asked to : French. The voice below answered with a query in English. "Is this the Slgnoi rina Desimone?" 1 "Yes. And how that my Identity Is established, who are you and what do you want at this time of night?" "I am Edward Courtlandt." "Well, what Is It you wish?" amiably^ "Ynn nnfp di(1 ttio an hi Inm," fnnin up the tube. "I desire that you make^ some reparation." "P ited Mother! But It has takea you ft'ibng time to find out that 1 have Injured you," she mocked. "Will you give me her address, please? Your messenger gave me i your address, inferring that yow wished to see me." "I?" There was no Impeaching her astonishment. "Yes, madame." I "My dear Mr. Courtlandt, you are j the last man in all the wide world t i wish to see. And I do not quite llk^ ! the way you are making your request." i "Do you not think, madame, that) ! you owe me something?" "No. What 1 owe I pay. Think, Mr. ; Courtlandt; think well." "I do not understand," impatiently. "Ebbene, I owe you nothing. Once T heard you eay — T do not like to see you with the Calabrian; she Is — woll, you know.' I stood behind you at an° i other time when you said that I was * I fool." , "Madame, I do not forget that, that Is pure invention. You are mistaken." ; "No. You were. I am no fool." A' ■ ' ! light laugh drifted down the tube. 1 1 "Madame. I begin to see." j "Ah!" I , "You believe what you wish to be-, 1 "I think not." i "I never even noticed you," carei ' I "It is easy to forget," cried the diva, 1 , furiously. "It is easy for you to for-' * | get. but not for me." I "Madame, 1 do not forget that yoa "! entered my room that plghb . . " ; "I shall give you her address," interrupted the diva, hastily. The plar | had gone far enough, much as she " would have liked to continue It This 1 was going deeper than she cared to ® go. She gave the address and added: j "Tonight she sings at the Austrian ambassador's. I give you this Information uuHsuuur b. i give juu iui» luiurinauim

' gladly because I know that It will be 5 of no use to you." 1 f 'Then I shall dispense with the formality of thanking you. I add that I wish you two-fold the misery you have ' carelessly and gratuitously cost me. ! Good night!" Click! went the little covering of the tube. * i With the same Inward bitterness ' that attends the mental processes of a I performing tiger on being sent back te its cage, Courtlandt returned to his 8 taxlcab. He wanted to roar and lash 0 ard devour something. Instead, he ® could only twist the ends of bis nis1 tache savagely. It did not seem pessible that any womani could be so full of malice. He simply could not uuder- !° stand. It was essentially the Italian 0 spirit; doubtless, till she heard his 0 voice, she had forgotten all about the 0 episode that had foundered his ship of happiness. | ( To be continued.) h I FOREST NOTES I China imports wood pulp from Great 1. Britain, Sweden. Norway and Germany. I- j The highest * mountain in Montana, t. ; Granite Peak with an altitude of cearh ly 13,000 feet, is in th.e Beartooth Su- ® tional forest. 6 Norway has 144 tree planting soceietics. The first was founded in 1900, and since then 20 million trees have been e planted, more than two million having d been set out last year, s. New Jersey is said to "have the great - eBt proportion of railroad milage of any l" state in the country, or one mile of rail- £ road to every three square miles of tora ritorv. This makes an unusual riak pf j. forest fires set by railroads. a \ Typewriter and Adding Machin^g^b- [- bona, all colors and styles, at the Star K and Wave Stationery Department,