HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1916-07-27, Page 7July z7th, 1916
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THE WINGHAM TIMES
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A
WIFE IN NAME ONLY
BY sM,xHw M. CLAY
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' S Si`/S
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'-'2S pFeasatif s`utile "hurvetr Vie .-TeNeTy
• scarlet graceful lips.
"So will Norman, You will see,
maman, there is no cause for anxiety,
none for fear. You will soon be won-
- tiering why you looked so grave over
my pretty love -story,"
"It seems to me," observed Lady
Peters, "that it is a one-sided story.
You love him—you consider yourself
betrothed to him. What will you say
• or do, Philippa, if you find that, dur-
ing his travels, he has learned to
love some one else? He has visited
half the courts of Europe since he
left here; he must have seen some
of the Ioveliest women in the world.
"Suppose he has learned to love oar--,
what then?"
The beautiful face darkened.
"What then, maman? I know what
I should do, even in that case. He
belonged to me before he belonged
to any one else, and I should try to
win him back again."
"But if his word were pledged?"
"He must break his pledge, It
-would be war to the knife; and I have
•an idea that in the end I should
win."
"But," persisted Lady Peters, "if
you lost—what then?"
"Ah, then I cannot tell what would
happen! Love turns to burning hate
at times. If I failed I should seek
revenge. But we will not talk of fail-
ure. Oh, maman, there he is r'
How she loved him! At the sound
of his footsteps a crimson glow shone
in her face, a light shone in the
*depths of her splendid dark eyes, the
scarlet lips trembled. She clinched
her white fingers lest a sound that
might betray her Should escape her.
"Lord Arleigh," announced a ser-
- vont at the door.
Tall, stately, self-possessed, she
• Went forward to greet him. She held
out her hand; but words failed her
as she Iooked once more into the face
A she loved so well.
Philippa!" cried the visitor in
tones of wonder. "7 expected to find
you changed, but 7 should not have
known you."
"Am I so greatly altered?" she
asked.
�. "Altered?" he repeated. "I left you
a pretty school -girl — I find you a
» queen." He bowed low over the white
hand.
The. queen bids you welcome," she
+ said, and then, after introducing Lady
Peters, she added: "Should you not
really have known me, Norman?"
He had recovered from his first sur-
• prise, and Lady Peters, who watched
',him closely, fancied that she detected
,,Some little embarrassment in his man-
ner. Of one thing she was quite sure
-rthere was admiration and affection
in his manner, but there was noth-
iink resembling love.
He greeted her, and then took a
-neat, not by Philippa's side, but in
• tine of the pretty lounging chairs by
• i'he open window.
"How pleasant it is to be at home
+again !" he said. How pleasant, Phi-
Xipisa, to "see you !" And Hien he he -
:gap to talk of Lady L'Estrange, "It
•seems strange," he went on, "that
your mother and mine, after being
• duch true 'friends in life, should die
within a few days of each other. I
'would give the whole world to see
'iny mother again. I shall find Beech-
-throve so lonely without her,"
"I iilways recognize a good Man,"
Put in Lady Peters, "by the great
'love he bears his mother.'
Lord Arleigh smiled.
"Then you think I am a good man?"
'the interrogated: "I .hope, Lady Pete
.vers, that I shall never forfeit your
-good opinion."
"i . do not think it likely," said her
`laay'shf},
Philippa grew impatient on finding
`his attention turned, even for a few
moments iron berself,
"Talk to me, Norman," she said;
'.`tell me of your -travels—of what you
li:hve seen and ,donee— of the new
friends feu have 4 e,�,
"I have he new oars,. f'hilippeire"he
rigid; "I love the old ones best."
"He did not understand the tri-
* Ulaaluentegehereaftioiteof . et+ae
IIAd KIDNEY Maki
For SEVERAL MHOS
' DOAN'S KIDNEY PILLS
CURLED HiM. -
Mr. Fred. Stevens. Raymond, Alta.,
*rites: "I'iem welting to bear illy teeth
ennony of ynur• wonderful-mediuitkee , I"ti ,
lead suffered for •seeteed<adnontis'with
kidney trouble. I had beenmake the
•doctor's care for two Months, when I
stead your advertisement. ;1 at tante
D,urchaseil four' beets of Iloian's `Kiffieey
Pills, and when I had used two o
"them 1 was cured, I have recons
-ibis treatment to several of my friends,"
When you ask for bran's ICtdu$'y title �
tee that you get "Dean's." the wrapper
it grey and our trade mark "the 1taplc
af" spit ett en e`tety'>t!ibx,
i5uwu's Kidney Pills are 5t0 cents per
'box, of 1 axes tb'r ti,211; tit aril gealers, or
knailed-direct on receipt of price by The
V. Milburn Co„ Limited, Toronto, Ont.
When or 1 ritte'.ircet specify "Down's,"
as'Ih`ey�"giancea a£ 11 r 1 e s:
told her briefly of the chief places
that he had visited, and there, he said:
"What a quantity of flowers you
have, Philippa! Yon still retain your
old love,"
She took a spray of lilac from one
of the vases and held it before him.
Again Lady Peters noted confusion on
his face.
"Do you remember the Iliac, and
what you said about it?" she asked.
'"Yes," he replied, "I was in Flor-
ence last year when they were in
flower, and I never looked at the
beautiful blooming trees without
fancying that I saw my cousin's face
among the blossoms,"
"Why do you call me 'swain'?"
she asked, impatiently.
He looked up in surprise.
"You are my cousin, are you not,
Philippa?"
"I am only your second eousin,"
she said; "and you have never call-
ed me so before,"
"I have always called you 'cousin'
in my thoughts," he declared. "How
remiss I am !" he exclaimed, sudden-
ly, "You will think that I hale for-
gotten what little manners I had. I
never congratulated you on your suc-
cess,"
"What success?" she asked, half
impatiently.
"I have not been twenty-four home
in London, yet I have heard on all
sides of your charas and • conquests'
I hear that you are the belle of the
season—that you have slain dukes,
earls, marquises, and baronets indite.
criminately. I hear that no one has
ever been more popular or more ad-
mired than Philippa L'Estrange. Is
it all truer'
"Yon must find out for yourself,"
she said, laughingly, half disappoint-
ed that he had laid the 'spray of lilac
diewn without any further remark,
half disappointed that he should
speak in that light, unconcerned lesb-
ian about her eonquesta; he ought to
be jealous, but evidently he was not.
Then, to her delight, came a MUD.
mane for Lady Peters; she was want-
ed in the housekeeper's doom.
"Now we are stone, ' thought
lippa, "he will tell me that he is
pleased to see' one. He will remei nter
that he called me his little , wife,;,
But, as Lady Peter, cursed the door,
he took a book from the table, and
asked her what she had been lead-
ing lately which 'was the book of
that season. She replied to his agues -
bons, and to the remarks that fol-
lowed; but they were not what 'she
wanted to bear,
"Do not talk to me about books,
Norman," she cried at last. "Well me
more about yourself; I want to mar:
more about you."
She did not notice the slight flush
that spread over his face,
"If we aro to talk about oarsehrte,"
he said, "I should prefer you to be
the subject. You have grown eery
beautiful, Philippa."
His eyes took in every detail of the
rich amber costume -- the waling
masses of dark hair — the splendid
fes, with its setta'let f#ps 'ltd 'tile lbiis
tacess. ntlwhite cow ned a tomo ed immself
that in ail "his travels' he had seen
nothing like the iruperial 'loveliness
of this dark -eyed girl,
"Does it please you to find me what
you eall beautiful?" •rhe hiked, shyly.
"Of course it does, I am Very
proud of you—peottd to be known
as the cousin of PPhhiilippe L'Estranjle."
Nothing more! Had ,he nothing
more than this to beproud of? Was
he so blind that he could not see love
in the •girls •facer --se deaf that,. he
could not bear it in •tile modulations
of her musical voice? She beat her
beautiful faoe nearer to him.
"We were always goad friende,'Nor-
man," she sold, simply, "you and I."
"Yes, we were like brother and sir-
terry" he re ipbinded: "Hi* 'we quar-
reled and made friends ! De you re -
mamba?"
''Yes --but We were not like Whither
and Wailer, Norman. 'Wee'did aot`•eaa4-
each 'ti C&" by such attunes in 'Mass
days, did wee"
"I never could find names pretty
though. for you,'" he , Iatigh-
She r'rdtil ed h eyes s' my
"You cared 'for me a greet d "
those days, Norman." she saidalfhteh
err . ,"Tell; nie'' th#1ff -itis y oar time
ale ea* .n4 rewee nage asa
whom you cern ��',,g
Be was perfatctl Karim and .
berretta:d,
,",No, .00nsin, I have; .;Sot, As T •told
i °. d latea Rile tem it s
—a -few •pleasant• acquaintances, thee
mg mdw;"
'"i rein I am coateut;," aloe saitL
'Bat berwas deaf to the
flati$ie til' ar "rnke 'Vitdts the
Bete ben than iaetraed to grow fess,
'may, ,talked • 161 : het +h1dn e, 'Deleon
AojaiyAA!y',boakti•ot1 bthgro e,,'�iewi
bit's d91 ' 'lor .l tilrkg; there Their
• uugtfeteetiou • ;hyla ,thee intimate •.ft-
ehaage of theuglit of old friendst•hut
poet$,3k wet he W aveilf Nitre
VIY6%i�'`'i6f -*dy Peters' absence to seal[
Of IC,'t3 d was mistaken. He talked
ell�1til iba, ofr?fkiendship, of eliOd4
's igfcpa, of h }lest hopes and
for' the 'fd'iiattehirf anything but.: .
d:'to,be and perhapewatt
� �Ir
theta bale[ his i
' 1 am - t� r � i a
Week" he . ' torr
e
dayy. Philippe
"I shall be 'p&eaeed 10 lee you --rely
time is yours," hhe Answered but ha
did not understiend the fill nxianiiitii4
Tfien !Ally -Peters carne in and ask..
ed if he would join theist at dinner.
"Philippa likes gayety," she said;
"we have never had one quiet even'
ing sine the season began; she hasW
a ball for to -night."
"Yes," laughed the heiress; "the'
world is 'very sweet to me just now,!
Norman; but I will give up my bail,
and stay.at home purposely to sing to
you, if you will dine with us."
"That is a temptation I cannot re-
sist," he returned. "I will come, Alt
your disappointed partners will, how-
ever, vent their wrath on me, Phi-
lippa."
"1 can bear it," she said; "and so
can you. Now I can let you go more
willingly, seeing that I shall soon see,
you again."
And then he went away, After he
had gone she spoke but little; once
she clasped her arms round Lady Pet-
ers' neck and kissed the kindly face.
"Do not speak to me," she said;
"lest I should lose the echo of his
voice"; and Lady Peters watched her
anxiously, as she stood with a rapt
smile on her lace, as of one who has
heard celestial music in a dream.
w • 11, • •
The Arleighs of Beechgrove had for
many generations been one of the
wealthiest ae well as one of the nob-
lest families in England. To the lot
of the only, living descendant of the
race, Norman, Lord Arleigh, who had
succeeded his father at the early age
of twenty, all this good gift of fame,
fortune, and wealth had now fallen.'
He had inherited also the far-famed
Arleigh beauty. He had clear-cut lea-;
tures, a lair skin, a fine manly frame„
a broad chest, and erect military bear-'
ing; he had dark hair and eyes, with
straight clear brows, and a fine hand
some mouth, shaded by a dark mous
tache. Looking at him it was easy
to understand his character. There
was pride in the dark eyes, in the
handsome face, in the high -bred man-
ner and bearing, but not of a com
mon kind.
In accordance with his late father's
wish, he had gone through the usual
course of studies. He had been to
Eton and to Oxford! he had made the
usual Continental tour; and now he'
had returned to live as the Arleighs
had done .• before ,him—a king on his
own estate. There was just one thing.
in hislife that 'had not pleases him.
His mother, Lady • Arleigh, had al-
ways evinced the greatest affection
for her cousin, the, gentle Lady
L'Estrange. She had paid long visits
to Verdun Royal, always taking her
son with her; and his earliest recol-
lection was of his mother and Lady
L'Estrange sitting side by side plan-
ning the marriage of their two chil-
dren, Philippa and Norman. He could
even remember many of his mother's
pet phrases—"So suitable," "A per-
fect marriage;" "The desire of my
ho'ttrt." He could remember the many
references made to it, such as—
"W'tein Philippa lives at the Abbey,"
"Whet Philippa is Lady Arleigh."
All his mother's thoughts and ideas
seemed to begin and end there. He
h'ed• been taught, half seriously, half
in jest, to eall Philippa his little
wife, to pay her every attention, to
present her with jewels and with flow-
ers, to make her his chief , study.
While he was still a boy he had only
Iaughed; at it.
Philippa was a beautiful, high-
spirited girl. Her vivacity and ani-
mation -amused shim. He had spoken
the truth, in saying that he had met
no one he Iiked better than his old
friend. He had seen beautiful girls,
lovely women, but he had not fallen
fit love. Indeed„ dove with the Ar-
leighs loss `a serious Matter. They
did not look lightly upon it. Note
man, Lord Arleigh had not Men in
love, but he bad .begun to 'think very
seriously about Philippa L'Estrange.
He had been fond of her as a child,
with the kind of affection that often
eitintszbetwitareehildreza. He had Called
her his "little wile' in jest, not in
etitslef'st. Ile he'd litltened to the dila
citheideis between the two ladies as he
reetdd' hal ''e listonled had they been'
talkhsg itbotit 'adding, a new wing to
the ,hoose It was not until he eaine
too ebye mho af,eerious -eke manhood thit iris
,ner'
was Ten he remembered in-'
eatisfaetiert that there had been
biudiing that, lie had never
to her, that tbe whale isnot-,
ter let "metele a something that had!
Milan in the imagination of .two
t'seMHltk , .
Ho 'ryas net in the least degree . in,
644),effilhi'hili!i,aMkt was a 6N-
• bilteetetied b NoYetle ahhrtmeehtle
•sioelper4ia fbr MC He
l ia, 'bit fed wotmien, 'ten-.
et of heskt.-JAW sotti brilliancy tied
IttKfit. -It
tib ,rind bad he ttiao
e'irnevV,• , �
ho
nnoR. doei
d$le easfobe
trdea7' i
ittratiqem that
aycberinnnina,eiee iipiie•
Wee; he bed said army tha#,.he,shotdd,.
a liitc withaat `thin rg of,
toited there.-But'tbsi bad,.
:itiointhtlet
doirhertlei.:as. titsdd:b.r
,,.
iinasif lin .hi d
lid. ,8a
‘1061i1 16* • Oat:
•wies no rowel' lesiti ,so
kr tat heribps. /10
Ms*
:iters fik>
aatllt Midst loft the
mad dl" a gilt
d s oboistD to i Wm
sat lees `inch.
Eat *beet Iklriliipyra d.eiea.it!' Hb
irsoacii*st;tAkeepreisd, Alr %led'
Linable To Sleep!'
Or Do Any Work.
SUFFERED FROM HER NERVES.
idrs. Thomas Harris, 8 Corrigan St.,
Kingston, Ont., writes: "X bad beena
mustard sufferer, for many years, with
my nerves, and was unable to sleep at
night, or do any work through the day,
I at last decided to consult a doctor and
find out what was really the trouble.
The first one told rte I would have to go
under an operation before I would be
well, but I would not consent to this. One
day I took a fit of crying, and it seemed
that if anyone spoke to me I would have
to order them out of the house. I must
have been crying two hours when my
insurance agent came in. He advised me
to try a box of Milburn's Heart and
Nerve Pills, and I at once sent to the
drug store and got two boxes, and before
I had them taken I felt like a different
person. I have told others about them,
and they have told ine they would not
be without them, I sin very thankful I
started to take Milburn's Heart and
Nerve Pills,"
Milburn's Heart and Nerve Pills are
50 cents per box, or 3 boxes for $1.25, at
'ail dealers or hailed direct on receipt
of price by The T, Milburn Co., Limited,
Toronto, .Out.
x Ig'u glre•w•-no'ra'ng•t-, .. cty: Tie
could not think that the childish fol-
ly had taken deep root in her heart --
he would not believe it. She had
been a child like himself; atriums
even she had forgotten the nonsense
more completely than he himself had.
On his return to England, the first
thing he heard when be reached Lon-
don was that his old friend and play-
fellow—the girl he had called his lit-
tle wife—was the belle of the season,
with half London at her feet.
A
CHAPTER VII.
Lord Arleigh had been so accus-
tomed to think of Philippa as a child
that he could with diflcuity imagine
the fact that she was now a lovely
girl, and one of the wealthiest heir-
esses in London. He felt some curios-
ity about her. How would she greet
him? How would she receive him?
He wrote to her at once, asking per-
mission to visit her, and he came
away from that visit with his eyes a
little dazzled, his brain somewhatdaz-
ed, but his heart untouched. His
fancy .was somewhat disturbed by the
haunting memory of dark, splendid
eyes, Lighted with fire and passion,
and a bright radiant face and scar-
let lips—by a melange of amber, lace
and perfume—but his heart was un-
touched. She was beautiful beyond
his fairest dream of women—he owned
that to himself—but it was not the
kind of beauty that he admired; it
wn' too vivid, too highly colored, too
brilliant. He preferred the pure sweet
lily to the queenly rose. Still he said
to himself that he had never seen a
face or figure life Miss L'Estrange's.
No wonder that she had half London
at her feet!
He was pleased with her kind re-
ception of him, although he had not
read her welcome aright; he was too
true a gentleman even to think that
it was love which shone in her eyes
and trembled on her lips—love which
made her voice falter and die away—
love which caused her to exert every
art and grace of which she was mis-
tress to fascinate him. He was delight•*a
ed with her—his heart grew warm
under the charm of her words, but
he never dreamed of love.
He had said to himself that there
must be no renewal of his childish
nonsense of early days—that he must
be careful not to allude to it; to do
so would be hi bad taste. Not that he
was vain enough to think she would
attach any importance to it even if
he did so; but he was one of nature's
gentlemen, and he would have scorn-
ed to exaggerate or to say one word
more than he meant. Her welcome
had been most graceful and kind—the
beautiful face had softened and
changed completely for him. She had
devoted heraelf entirely to him; no-
thing in all the wide world had seem-
ed to her of the leant interest except
bldnae f and his affairs—books, music,
jpiaterea, even herself, . her own tri-
Jmirgl+s, were all as nottning when
ebat!pitecl with him. Be would have
'bairn ,leas than mortal not to have
litaan• both pleased and flattered.
lerebeted so earnestly to return to
idinngr:, he had promised to do so;
and evening, the sweet scented May
.evehing found him once more at Hyde
'Park. If anything, Philippa looked
eyen more_ laves_ the woreeher, fay -
The Army of
Constipation
►shat►
Is Grawiag *very Dat.
CItnTE '$
mot P1111 ase
wrpi.rifle-•-ei eythe
.sly gore ediif---
there er meardy
wreCoiettipar-
gm. Ida -
inset we
Ikea for
NiThirsir
arts, IAiligeitiori, tkfl f1'ewbute, 5.littall ie.
Scald Pili.. Swill Nest, lreadd Pries.
Gbndittia *alias SititatOrtt
• ,,�►
e 7
Torte e0Tors -zanT er ' ante- wraate-ea.
dress of rich amber brocade trimmed
with white lace; the queenly head
woe circled with diamonds; jewels like
fire glearned on the white breast; there
was a cluster of choice flowers in her
bodice. Ile had seen her hitherto as
a girl, now he was to ace her as the
high -bred hostess, the mistress of a
large and magnificent mansion,
ie owned to himself that she was
simply perfect. He had seen nothing
in better taste, although he had been
on intimate terms with the great ones
of the earth. As he watched her, he
thought to himself that, high and bril-
liant as was her station, it was not
high enough for her. She flung a
charm so magical around her that he
•was insensibly attracted by it, yet he
was not the least in love—nothing
was further from his thoughts, He
'could not help seeing that, after a
fashion, she treated him differently
from her other guests. He could not
have told why or how; he felt only a
certain subtle difference; her voice
'seemed to take another tone in ad-
dressing him, her face another ex-
pression, as though she regarded him
as one quite apart from all others,
The dinner -party was a, success, as
was every kind of entertainment with
which Philippa L'Estrange was con-
cerned. When the visitors rose to take
their leave, Norman rose also. She was
standing near him.
"I)o not go yet, Norman," she said,
"it is quite early. Stay, and I will
sing for you."
She spoke in s0 low a tone of voice
that no one else heard her. He was
quite willing, Where could he feel'
more at home than in this charming
drawing -room, with this beautiful
girl, his old friend and playmate?
• She bade adieu to her visitors, and
theu turned to him with such a smile
as might have lost or won Troy.
"I thought they would never go,"4
she said; 'and it seems to me that I
have barely exchanged one word with
you yet, Norman."
"We have talked many hours," he
returned, laughing.
"Ah, you count time by the old
fashion, hours and minutes ! I forget
it when I am talking to one I—to an
old friend like you."
"You are enthusiastic," said Lord
Arleigh, wondering at the light on the
splendid face,
"Nay, I am constant," she rejoined.
And for a few minutes after that si-
lence reigned between them. Philippa
was the first to break it.
"Do you remember," she asked,
"that you used to praise my voice,
and prophesy that I should sing
well?"
"Yes, I remember," he replied,
"I have worked hard at my music,"
she continued, "in the hope of pleas-
ing you."
"In the hope of pleating me?" he
interrogated. 'It was kind of you to
think so much of me."
"Of whom should I think, if not of
you?" she inquired.
There were both love and reproach
in her voice—he heard neither, Had
he been as vain as he was proud, he
would have been quicker to detect her
love for himself.
The windows had been opened be-
cause the evening air was so clear
and sweet; it came in now, and seem-
ed to give to the flowers a sweeter
fragrance. Lord Arleigh drew his chair,
to the piano.
"I want you only to listen," she
said, "You will have no turning over
to do for me; the songs I love best I
know by heart. Shut your eyes, Nor-
man, and dream."
"I shall dream more vividly if 1
keep them open and look at you," he
returned.
Then in a few minutes he began to
think he must be in dreamland --the
rich, sweet voice, so clear, so soft,
so low, was filling the room with
sweetest music. It was like no human
voice that he remembered; seductive,
full of passion and tenderness—a
voice that told its own story, that told
of its owner's power and eharrn—a
voice that carried away the hearts of
the listeners irresistibly, as the strong
current carries the leaflet.
She sang of love, mighty, irrnaietible
Iove, the king before whom all bow
down; and as she sang he looked at
her. The soft, pearly light of the
Iamps fell on her glorious face, and
seemed to render it more beautiful.
He wondered what spell was fast fall-
ing over him, for he saw nothing but
Philippa's face, heard nothing but the
musie that seemed to steep his senses
as in a dream.
How fatally, wondrously Iovely she
was, this siren who sang to him of
love, until every sense was full of si-
Ient ecstasy, until his face flushed,
and his heart beat fast. Suddenly his
eyes met hers; the scarlet lips trembl-
ed, the white finger!; grew unsteady;
her eyelids drooped, and the sweet
music stopped.
She tried to hide her confusion by
wailing.
"You should not look at me, Nor-
man," she said, "when I ging; it a e-
barrasses me."
"You should contrive to look a lit; -
tie less beautiful, then. Philippa," he
rejoined. "What was - the last song?"
It is a new one," she replied, 'call-
ed 'My (paean.'"
"I should Iike to read the words,"
said Lord Arleigh.
In a Sew minutes she had found it
for him, and they bent over the pritrt-
ed page together; her 'dark hair touch-
ed his cheek. *he tierfuthe Froin the
White lilies she wore seemed to en-
trance him he could not understand
the spell that lay over hirci.
'IS it nit beautiful?" she said.
t11'ee, bcantiful, but ideal; fear
women, I think, would equal drib
past's queers."
"You do not know—you cannot tell,
Nors,isin; I think any wo+inan who
loves, and loves ta'uly, becomes it
queen." H looked at her, wondering sit the
p[btisidrs in her voice- won "" at
the exptticion on bee Watetrfe' looks,
"You are isietedulous," she -chid;
"bat it is true. Lova is war:Oates do-
minion; let her but Duce enter it, and
the torn es h ie ' ber lie +t lied
ectadtrew the OmbE
eroinki her. It is the real diadem nit
worm ntitotod, Borman, she kessweotherkis
y
Be moos beet tier rrr4ie
seemed to aortae Misr hello Scaliest eVaeet-
She ekes tib toed bs
see it, and With the desire* winner
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areateeddeldead '•
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fy •"eiange 1 'the sutreeE ' Sub - asTet-1
same trifling question about Beech -
grove, and then said, suddenly:
"I should like to see that fine old
place of yours, Norman. I was only
ten when mamma took me there the
last time; that was rather too young
to appreciate its treasures. I should
like to see it again."
"I hope you Will see it, Philippa; I
have many curiosities to show you. I
have sent horoe treasures from every
great city I have visited."
She looked at him half -wonderingly,
half'aistfti ly, but he said no more.
Could it be that he had no thought
of ever asking her to be mistress and,
queen of this house of his?
"You must have a party in the au-
tumn," she said. "Lady Peters and I
must be amongst your guests."
"That will be an honor. I shall keep
you to your word, Philippa." And
then he rose to go,
The dark, wistful eyes followed
him. She drew a little nearer to him
as
rghhee held out his hand to say good -
"You are grate sure, Norman, that
you are pleased to see me again?" she
interrogated, gently.
"Pleased! Why, Philipps, of course
I am, What a strange question r
"Because," she said, "there seems
to be a cload—a shadow—between us
that I do not remember to have exist-
ed before."
"We are both older," he explained,
"arid the familiarity of childhood can-
not exist when childhood ceases to
be."
"I would rather be a child forever
than that you should change to me,"
she said, quickly.
"I think," he returned, gravely,
"that the only change in me is that
7 admire you more than I have ever
done."
And these words filled her with the
keenest sense of rapture; yet they
were but commonplace enough, if she
had only realized it."
.• CHAPTER VIII,
Lord Arleigh raised his hat from his
brow and stood for a few minutes
bareheaded in the iitarlight. He felt
like a mon who httd been in the
stifling atmosphere of a conservatory;
warmth and perfume had dazed him,
How beautiful Philippa was—how be-
wildering. What a nameless, wondrous
charm there was about her. No wonder
that half London was at her feet, and
that her smiles were eagerly sought.
He was not the least in love with her;
adrninetiori, ;homage, liking, but not
love --anything but that—filled him;
yet he dreamed of her, thought of her,
he � men—all rs' with others that
reply because her
beauty had diced him.
"I .can believe now in the sirens
of old," he said to himself; "they
must have had just such dark, glow-
ing eyes, ranch rich, sweet voices aid
beautiful faces. I should pity the man
who hopelessly loaned Philippa L'-
Estraage; and, if she ever loves any
one, it Will be easy for her to win;
who could lav int herr'
How little he dreamed that the
whole ptisaionrele Jove of her heart
was liven 'lei himaeif--that to win
from hila orie ward of love, a 'single
token of affection, •she would have
given all that the had in the World!
On the following day be received a;
note; it said simply:
"Dour Noriban,--Can you join me
in a ride? I have a new horse which
they fell me is the spirited. I shall
riot be afraid to try it ifyou are with
me,
Yours,i,a.,,
He coiled not hales incited, he net-
er thought of r`efitsing--ithy' should
he The beautiful girl whb,aaked =this
kinetin frori him was hbt old
and playfellow. He haste to Ver-
dun House and found Philippa wait -
414g, for ice.
"T ea10k1101,t
"L���y- leered .�ea-
gaige!$. I `thougm theirji4jr.
"Yoh did well to Waist t the," Iib re-
turrest
"Fstustug engage/gat olirelichheekea
.._
die had thought her perfect on the
previous evening, in the glitter of jew-
els and the gorgeous costume of am-
ber and white; yet, if possible, she-
looked
helooked even better on this morning.
Her riding -habit was neat and plain,
fitting close to the perfect figure,
showing every gracious line and
curve.
Philippa L'Estrange possessed that
rare accomplishment among women, a.
graceful "seat" on horseback. Lord
Arleigh could not help noticing the,
admiring glances cast on her as they
entered the park together, He saw
how completely she was queen of so-
ciety. Unusual homage followed her..
She was the observed of all observers4
all the risen seemed to pause and look
at her. Lord Arleigh heard repeatedly„
as they rode along, the question„
"Who is that beautiful girl?" Every-
one of note or distinction contrived
to speak to her, The Prince of Au-
boine, at that time the most feted
guest in England, could hardly leave!
her. Yet, in the midst of all, Lori
Arleigh saw that she turned to hired
as the sunflower to the sun. No mat-
ter with whom she was conversing,4
she never for one moment forgot hime
never seemed inattentive, listened to
him, smiled her brightest on hime
while the May sun shone, and the
white hawthorn flowers. fell on thei
grass—while the birds chirped mer-
rily, and crowds of bright, happy peo--
ple pressed to and fro.
"How true she is to her el
friends !" thought Lord Arleigh, whew
he saw that even a prince could not.
take her attention from him.
So they rode on through the sunlid
air—he fancy free, she loving him
every moment with deeper, true;
warmer love.
"I should be so glad, Norman," shet
said to him, "if you would give met
a few riding -lessons. I am sure I need
them."
He looked at the graceful figure*
at the little hands that held the seine
so deftly,
"Ido not see what there is to teachl
you," he observed; "I have never
seen any one ride better."
"Still I should be glad of some lit
tie instruction from you," she said,
I always liked riding with you, Hall-
man."
"I shall be only too pleased to rides
with you every day when I am ink
town," he told her; and, though he
spoke kindly, with smiling lips, there
was no warmth of love in his tone.
the day was very warm—the emit
had in it all the heat of xune. Wbean
they reached Verdun House, Philippe
said:
"You will come in for a short time,
Nemeth? You look warm and tired.
Willia ne—#he butler—is famous Inc
his claret -cup."
He murmured something about be-
ing not fatigued, but disinclined for
conversation,
"You will not see arty one," abet
said; "you shall come t4 my own peas -
Cicalae little room, where no one
dares enter, and we will have a quiet:
conversation there."
It seemed quite useless to zesis
her. She hod a true siren potter of
fascination. The next minute sato
him seated in the cool, shady boiudotr,
where
the mellow light came in, taco»
filtered ttse Silken blinds, and
the perfumed air 'was sweet. Lady
Peters, hilll of Solicitude, was tire,
with the iced claret -cup, thinking he
was tired and warm. It was 'so likes
home that he could not help fueling.
happy.
Presently Lady Bettors retaredor a.
few minutes, and rn came `Philippa,
She had &hiuiged icer tiding-ocetwne
for an white ll�yat ' folk'
around her insick 14oeene, trace ulfge
'She wore no flowers, jewels or rib•
bone, but the dark mimes of hereit
were unfastened, and hung round the'
white reek; there ward a warp!, bii014
flush on her face, with the least touch
of la'dguet ,lin her rnaftneur. ShelimeM
heteelf bark in her ioungiag-edr.ic,,
saying, with a dreamy sank:
""You see that I make no attSrrtDrld
ofetdou,e NRrfo .n "
R r_ ' (To B* CgiintiVlit),
Noma
ete