The Truth About Tristrem Varick

k in such wise that it had grown in his mind, and in the growing it had assumed a variety of attractive attributes. He was, therefore, much pleased at the prospect of renewing

d at the discovery that the uniform if depthless civility of older civilizations was rarely observable; he was chagrined to find that the minuti? which, abroad, he had accepted as a matter of cou

her country was more naturally and bountifully favored than his own, there

ible for anyone to venture with in safety through the shallows of European refinements, and of other relatives Tristrem could not boast. Few of his former friends were at once discoverable, and of those that h

e force of these impressions waned; the difference between New York and Paris lost much of its accent, and in its place came

hood, he had become one on whom the feminine eye likes to linger, and in whose companionship men feel themselves refreshed. His face was beardless and unmustached, and into it had come that strength which the old prints give to Karl Martel. In the ample jaw and straight

him save debts and dislike. Promptly thereupon Royal Weldon set out to conquer the Stock Exchange. For three years he grit his teeth, and earned fifteen dollars a week. At the end of that period he had succeeded in two thing

th affectionate interest, and the day before Weldon's wedding he had caused Tiffany to send the bride a service of silver which was mentioned by the reporters as "elegant" and "chaste."

there to dine. He had broken bread in the house many times before, but the bread breaking had been informal. On this particular

ve. Even Weldon was not visible; but Mrs. Weldon was, and, as Tristrem entered, she rose from a straight-b

was arch and noticeably affected. She had an enervating way of asking unnecessary questions, and of laughing as though it hurt her. On the subject of d

morning. Tristrem found a seat, and replied that he had not. "But don't you like to go?" s

sist the temptation." Then there was more conversation of the before-dinner kind,

y arrangement, in fact, that would have befitted her features, which resembled those of the Cleopatra unearthed by Lieutenant Gorringe. Her eyes were not oval, but round, and they were amber as those of leopards, the yellow of living gold. The corners of her mouth drooped a little, and the mouth itself was rather large than small. When she laughed one could see her tongue; it was like an inner cut of water-melon, an

ould not have explained. He heard his name mentioned, and saw the girl incline her head, but he made little, if any, acknowledgment; he stood quite still,

meone that she had been obliged to give up cigarettes. And when the someone asked whether the abandonment of that pleasure was due to parental interference, the young woman laughed shortly, and explained that she was in training for a tennis tournament. Meanwhile the little group in which T

g with a newspaper? It's like talking metaphysics to a bull; the first you know, you get a horn in your navel." And while the novelist was expressing his disdain of all adverse criticism, and quoting

the complacency of one who has said a good thing, and she with the appreciation of one accustomed to wit. But Tristrem was not permitted to watch her undisturbed. Mrs. Weldon had a right

nch," Tristrem ans

Mlle. de l'Entresol's school together for years and years. What makes you say her name isn't Finch? I

k," Tristre

e crazy; it's orange, a

re. Her hair, as Mrs. Weldon had said, was indeed the color of orange, though of

that's Mi

nt her lips lost their chromo smile, but presently it returned again, and she piped away anew on the subject of the charms of F

ks of laughter. The novelist was evidently in his finest form. "Do you mean to tell me," Miss Fi

ovelist replied. "Of course I believe in it; I be

d Mrs. Weldon, who had not understood. The latter, however, felt that

e said. "She is just the girl for you. Don't you think

Mrs. Weldon, I didn't mean to say that-I don't know how the stupid phrase got in my head or why I sa

he rim. She turned again to the guest at her left. The dinner was almost done. She asked a few more questions, and then presently,

en from beyond there came the running scale that is the prelude to the cabaletta, Non più mesta, from Cenerentola. Then, abruptly, a voice rang out as though it vibrated through labyrinths of gold-a voice that charged the air with resonant accords-a voice prodigious and dominating, grave and fluid; a voice that descended into the caverns of sound, soared to

Beyond, a group of women sat hushed and mute; and still the resilient waves of song continued. One by one the men i

ldon, seemingly, was urging her to sing again. The women had taken up anew some broken thread of gossip, but the men were at the piano, insisting too. Presently Miss Raritan resumed her seat, and the men moved back. Her fingers ripple

i, ma bi

s deux sou

bois sile

d then a lethargy enveloped him and he ceased to hear, and it was not until Miss Raritan stood up again from the piano that he was conscious that he had not been li

well, not quite up to Royal. She looked like that girl in Munich, the girl that lived over the way, only Mrs. Weldon was prettier and dressed better, much better. Du hast die sch?nsten Augen. Munich wasn't a bad place, but what a hole Innsprück was. There was that Victoria Cross fellow; whatever became of him? He drank like a fish; it must have caught him by this time. H'm, he would give me the address of his shoemake

while, companioned only by his thoughts. Before he fell asleep, his patriotism was riveted. A land that could produce suc