The House of a Thousand Candles
Page 15Her eyes, as she turned them full upon me, were the
saddest, loveliest eyes I had ever seen, and even in that
brilliant, crowded room I felt their spell. They were
fixed in my memory indelibly,-mournful, dreamy and
wistful. In my absorption I forgot Larry.
"You're taking unfair advantage," he observed quietly.
"Friends of yours?"
"The big chap in the lead is my friend Pickering,"
I answered; and Larry turned his head slightly.
"Yes, I supposed you weren't looking at the women,"
he observed dryly. "I'm sorry I couldn't see the object
of your interest. Bah! these men!"
I laughed carelessly enough, but I was already summoning
black,-her mournful eyes, the glint of gold in her hair.
Pickering was certainly finding the pleasant places in
this vale of tears, and I felt my heart hot against him.
It hurts, this seeing a man you have never liked succeeding
where you have failed!
"Why didn't you present me? I'd like to make the
acquaintance of a few representative Americans,-I
may need them to go bail for me."
"Pickering didn't see me, for one thing; and for
another he wouldn't go bail for you or me if he did.
He isn't built that way."
Larry smiled quizzically.
has shaken you. She reminds me of Tennyson: " 'The star-like sorrows of immortal eyes-' and the rest of it ought to be a solemn warning to you,
-many 'drew swords and died,' and calamity followed
in her train. Bah! these women! I thought you were
past all that!"
[Illustration: She turned carelessly toward me, and our eyes met for an instant.] "I don't know why a man should be past it at twenty-seven!
Besides, Pickering's friends are strangers to me.
But what became of that Irish colleen you used to
moon over? Her distinguishing feature, as I remember
her photograph, was a short upper lip. You used
to force her upon me frequently when we were in
Africa."
"Humph! When I got back to Dublin I found that
"Put not your faith in a short upper lip! Her face
never inspired any confidence in me."
"That will do, thank you. I'll have a bit more of that
mayonnaise if the waiter isn't dead. I think you said
your grandfather died in June. A letter advising you
of the fact reached you at Naples in October. Has it
occurred to you that there was quite an interim there?
What, may I ask, was the executor doing all that time?
You may be sure he was taking advantage of the opportunity
to look for the red, red gold. I suppose you
didn't give him a sound drubbing for not keeping the
cables hot with inquiries for you?"