Man and Maid

They came nearer and nearer--I could see that her face was rippling with

smiles at something the little brother had said--Its expression was

gentle and sympathetic and it was obvious that fond affection held all

three.

The children might have been drawn by Du Maurier in Punch long ago, to

express a family who were overbred. Race run to seed expressed itself in

every line of them. The boy wore an Eton jacket and collar and a tall

hat--and it looked quite strange in this place.

As they got close to me I could hear him cough in the hollow way which

tells its own story--.

I cowered down behind the hood of the motor, and they passed without

seeing me--or perhaps Miss Sharp did see me but was determined not to

look--. I felt utterly alone and deserted by all the world--and the same

nervous trembling came over me which once before made me suffer so, and

again I was conscious that my cheek was wet with a tear.

The humiliation of it! the disgrace of such feebleness!

-When they had gone by, I started forward again to watch them--I could

hear the little girl cry, "Oh! look Alathea!" as she pointed to the sky,

and then all three began to quicken their pace down another allée, in

the direction of Auteuil, and were soon out of sight.

Then, still quivering with emotion, I too glanced heavenward--Ye Gods!

what a storm was coming on--!

Where were they going? there into the deep wood?--it was a good mile or

two from the Auteuil gate--They would be soaked to the skin when the

rain did commence to fall--and there was a thunder storm beginning

also--were they quite safe?

All these thoughts tormented me, and I gave the chauffeur orders to take

a road I thought might cut across the path they had followed, and when

we reached the spot, I made him wait.

The livid lightning rent the sky and the thunder roared like guns, and

the few people in sight rushed, panic-stricken, in a hopeless search for

shelter--far greater fear on their faces than they show at German bombs.

My chauffeur complained audibly, as he got down to shut the car--Did

Monsieur wish to be struck by lightning? he demanded, very enraged.

Still I waited--but no Sharp family appeared--and at last I knew I had

missed them somehow--a very easy thing in that path-bisected wood. So I

told him he could drive like hell to my appartement in the Place des

Etats Unis--and off we rushed in the now torrential rain--It was one of

the worst thunder storms I have ever seen in my life.