HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1902-12-19, Page 70444-o .4frive 446, (e_41
de. leigertz ole4v.
then sedulously cultivated ; 'the
question was, what was to be done
now? I deckled that the most prud-
ent course would be to: say nothing
of n.y rupture with my lady -love,
and if I should be unable to subdue
a certain unwonted hilarity at dim -
tier time, to asoribe it to other
causies.
I lio•d scarcely made this resole=
tion, however, when I heard light
sounds in the hall and a knock at
my door, anal I said "Come in" with
i
my aearc leaping up, and a hot and
p lS
feverish conviction that it was all
up with; the sepret ; for the outs
spread letters which I convulsively
gathered into a heap, the lace
pooket-liandlca.rcelef, the ehesed gold
smelling -bottle, and other articles
for which a bachelor ;St retired hab-
its would be likely to have small
use, told their Own. tale ; while, to
make matters worse, To -to had got
' _-,p_1:91 `tseht _ A _ _ _ hlndd p f the omgagetnenpt ring, and
�",�;' �" `� <'°r T� ivacl laced it ou?• the to od bird box
Som safety while he minutely in-
spectecl its morocco case, and chew-
ed up the velvet lining with all the
,, 1 zP,et of a gourmand.
t�;. ILE
is
-9.. One
helpless! had
,,::y„ �:, p glance was all I
�,i v#a s; tine for before the door opened, and
Babiodo came in.
CHAPTER XXIII.
$444-1161c4c4444
Theo, with a lo::g sigh, she stood
up, twined her arms within mine and
let me lead her ups—tetra' Mae door
of her roost was open, and the two
candles, flickering and smoking in
the draught, oast moving shadows
over a dieorder of dress and dainty
woman's; clothing flung ie. confusion
abou the room. Babiole glanced Weide
and then looked up at me in bewilder-
ment and alarm, like cue
roused out of sloe: to see
something strange and terrible.
I wanted her to go to rest before
her memory should overtake her.
& I took off her bonnet .and cloak,
and profiting by the utter docility
she slhowed mc, glanced into the room
a.ud said, In a tone of authority, such
sue one would use to a child—
"Now, I shall come upstairs again
In exactly five minutes and eitall
knock at your door. If you aro in
lied by that time you are tet a;,ail out
"goad -night." If you ase not, 1 shall
wake your mother up, and send her
to you. Now will you do as I tell
you?"
"Yes, yes," said slie meekly.
"Then good night."
"Good -night. Mr. Maude."
She knots me then ; but I somehow
fancied, from the oid-fashioned de-
mureness with which she gave her
hand that she believed herself to be
once more the little maid of Graigen-
darrooh, and ria to bo her old mas-
ter.
Next day J3abioy * did not appear
at breakfast, alio;- her mother said
she was in a :state e?1 deep depres-
sion and muss:, her mother thought
by her manner, have ?lad a
fright in the night. I was very
anxious to see her again, and to
find out how much she remembered
of our nocturnal adventure. So an.si-
etas was I, in fact, that I forgot all
about my appointment at Oak Lodge
at eleven, and; it was not until Mrs.
Miner and I were having luncheon
at •tw•e that I was eaddenly retailed -
ed of my neglect im a rather sum-
mary fashion by being presented by
Ferguson with a note directed in
my fiancee's handwriting, and „told
that a messenger was waiting. I
opened it, conscience stricken, but
hardly prepared for the blow it con-
tained. This was the note:
"Dear Mr. Maude," (The opening,
was portentous)—"It is with feel -
lege of acute pain that 1 address
thus farma.ily a ga'aatleman in whom
I once thought 1 had had the good
fortune to discover a. heart, and more
especially a mind, to which I could
in ail things submit the control of
my own weaker and more frivolous
nature." [Lucy Farington trivolons 1
Shades of Aristotle and Bacon 1]
"For same time past I have began
to feel that I was deceived. I do not
for a moment mean that you intend-
ed deception, but that, in ally anx-
iety to believe the best, I deceived
myself. Your grooving indifference to
the dearest sylshes of niy heart, cul-
minating in your positive nolo-appear-
anae this morning (when I bad pre-
pared a little surprise for you in
ste.'tpe of a meeting with M'r. Finch,
the arehiteet, with his designs for
a model self-supporting village laun-
dry), leave hardly any room for
doubt that our views of life aro too
hopelessly dissimilar fcnr us to hope
to embark happily in matrimony. If
this is indeed the case, with much
regret I will give you back your lib-
erty, and request the return ot my
perhaps foolishly fond letters. If, on
the other band, you are not willing
that all should be at an end between
us, I beg that you will come to me
In the pony carriage which will
await your ardcn s.—I remain, dear
Mr. Maude, with my sincerest apol-
ogies if I have been unduly hasty,
ytooirs most sincerely, Lucy Faring -
My first emotion was one of anger
against the girl for being such a
fool; my s•eeond was of thankfulness
to her for being so wise. I should
Pave liked, in pique, 'to have straight
BABY'S FIRST TOOTH.
A Family Event That Does Not Always
Bring Unmixed Joy.
Baby's first tooth does not conte
unannounced. Inflamed gums and int -
paired digestion produce a feverish
and fretful condition about which the
mother often feels concern. The baby
f s
r
0 >♦ George McGregor, • o
boyWe G z Lrz c i of
6 g
Elamiltan, Ont., wao troubled with
diarrhoea while teething and wart
erose and restless. He did not sleep
well, and matters became serious,
The mother writes as follows: "lily
slater had used Baby's Own Tablets
foe her baby and advised ane to try
them. 1 gota box, and after giving
the 'Melees to the baby a few times
We began to improve and was soon
well. He is now a big, healthy baby
and whenever he gets fretful or does
not feel Weil I give elm a Tablet. and
he is soon all right again."
Baby's Own tablets replace with
groat adi"aninge
carSbor oil and other er
aauseouslgtlrlae drugs. They sweet -,
on the s'tom,adh, quiet the nerves and
promote bealthfui sleep. T,hey are
guaranteed to contain no opiate and
tot be absolutely 'harmless. If your
druggist does not keep them you can
oblate a, full, --size box by mall, poet
pail, bysencling 251 cents to the Dr.
Williams' Medicine Coe leroekville,
Ont,, or Setenec'tady, N. Y,
4
way got those letters, which she
was mistaken in considering com-
promisingly affectionate, to have
made them into a small, but neat
parcel and despatched them forth-
with. Instead of this, I excused myself
to Mrs. Elimer, went into the study
in a state of excitement, half pain
and ball relief, and wrote a note:
"My Dear Miss Ekarin ,ton,—Your
letter forbids, me to address you it
a. more affectionate way, though
you are mistaken in. supposing that
my feelinge toward you have changed.
It seems to, be that we have both,
if I may use the expression, been run-
ning our heads against a brick wall.
lou heave beam seeking in me a
learned gentleman with a strong
natural bent for philanthropy,
while I hoped! to find do
you an intelligent and withal
most kind and luving-hearted girl,
who would condescend to console me
for the 'slings and arrows of out-
rageous fortune,' in return for my
very best endeavors to make her
happy. Well, is the mistake past re-
pairing ? I am not too old to learn
philanthropy under your guidance;
you, I am dire, are too sweet not
to forgive nae for preferring a walk
with you alone to interviews with
all the architects who ever dese-
crated nature. I cannot come back
with the carriage now to roe Mr.
Finds ; but 11 you will, In the coarse
of the afternoon, let me have another
ever so short note telling me to
come and see you,. I shall take ill as
a token that yen are willing to give
me another chance, and within half
an hour of receiving it I will be with
you to take my first serious lesson
in philanthropy, and to pay for it
in what love coin you please.-1e-
lievo me, deer Lucy, if I may, dear
Miss i'aringtoe, if 1 must, yours over
most faithfully and sincerely,
" ,Henry L. Maude."
I saw the groom drive off with
this note, and spent the early part of
tlic afternoon wandering about the
garden, trying to make out what
:sort of answer I wished for. This
was the, one 1 got :
"Dear Mr. Maude,—Titre tone of
levity which charauterices your note
admits but of ono explanation. No
gentleman could so acidness the lady
whose respect and esteem he sin-
cerely wished to retain. T there-
fore. return your lettere and the va-
rious presents you have been kind
enough to make roe, and beg that
you will return me my share of our
correspondence. Please do not think
I bear you any ill -will ; I am willing
to believe the error was mutual, and
shell rather increase than discon-
tinue my prayers on your behalf, that
your perhaps somewhat pliable na-
ture may not render you th,e vic-
tim of designing persons—I remain,
dear Mr. Maude, ever sincerely your
friend,
Lusty Farington."
When I got to the end of this
warm-hearted effusion I rushed off
to make up my parcel ; seven notes,
a smoking cap, and a pair of slippers,
which last I regretted giving up, as
they were large and comfortable ; a
book on "Village Architecture," and
another el sermons by an eloquent
at ' ipractical modern preacher,
c • i ted the list. 1 fastened them
up, sealed and directed them, and
sent them out to. the under -gardener
from Oak Ledge, who had brought the
note, and had been directed to wait
for an answer. Then, with a sense
of relief, which was unmixed this
time, I went back to my study, lit
my pipe, and sat down in front of
the parcel my late love had sent me.
I was struck by its enormous super-
iority in neatness to the ill-sliapon
brown paper bundle in which I had
just sent off mine; and it presently
occurred to ine that the remarkable
deftness with which corners had been
turned 'in and string knotted, and
tied could never have been attained
by hands unused to any kind of active
labor. Miss Farington, either too
much overcome by emotion to tie
her parcel up herself, or from an ab-
sence of sentiment which -night or
might not be considered to do her
credit, had entrusted the task of
sending back my presents to her
maid.
Mechanically I opened the parcel
and, not being deeply enough. wound-
ed by the abrupt termination of my
engagemeat to throw my rejected
gifts with. passion into the fire, I
arranged them in a
g h,etu o,n the table z
row, spread out my returned letters
(which had all been neatly opened
with a pen—or snail paper -knife),
and considered the -yell-meant but
disastrous venture of liege's they
were the relics with much thought-
fuhnees. It had been a failure from
first to last; not only had it failed
to draw my not
and affections
from the little pale lady who was
now the wife of my friend, but It
had also unhappily resulted its ren-
dering her by contrast a lovelier and
snore desirable object thee before.
There Was ne doubt ot it ; the only
unalloyed pleasure try fiancee had af-
forded me Was the increase of delighl.I
hail felt, after nearly three weeks of
h,or improving society, in meeting
any little witch of .the hills once
more. On the whole, my conscience
Was pretty clear with regard to
Miss Farington ; I had been pre-
On hearing the soft tap of Ba-
biole's fingers on the door of my
sturdy, there had sprung up in me
quite suddenly a feeling that my
anchor was gone and the tempest
of human passions whicb I had con-
trodled fou eo tong burst out with-
in me with a viodence which made
me afraid of myself. There, on the
table before me, lay the eloquent re-
lies 01' my rejected suit to the wo-
man I had tried to love.
And here, shut out from me only
by a scarcely -closed door, was the
woman I loved so dearly without
the trying, that . just that faint
sound which told me she was near
thrilled through every fibre of niy
body as the musician's careless lin-
gers sweep the keys of his instru-
ment in a lightly -touched prelude
before he stakes it sing and throb
with any melody he pleases. I had
sprung to niy feet and begun to
toss my returned letters one by
one with shaking hands into the
fire, when I heard Babiolo's voice
behind me.
I turned abruptly, and it seemed
to myself almost, defiantly. But
no sooner had I given ono glance
at the slender figure dressed in
some plain dark staff and one into:
the little pale face than all the
tumult within me began 'to cairn
down, and the roaring, ramping,
raging lion I had felt a moment
before transformed himself gradu-
ally before tee unconscious magic of
my fairy eyes Into the mild and
meek old lamb he had always been
with her.
"You seeing very busy, Jtr. Maude,"
said she smiling.
Surely it lane my very witch her-
self again, ostly a little thinner and
whiter, who spoke to ire time in the
old sweet voice, and held out her
hand with the half -frank, half shy,
demureness toe those by -gone, pain-
ful -pleasant day's when we were
engaged, and when the new and
proud discovery that she was grown-
up, had given a' delicious piquancy
to her manner oe taking her les -
sots ! I shook hands with her, and
she p•oanted to her old chair ; as she
took it quite simply and thus bad the
full light of the windon a om her
face, 1 noticed with surprise and
pleasure that, in spite of the ex-
citement of the night before, the
atmosphere of her old home was al-
ready taking effect upon her, the
listless expression she had worn in
Loudon was disappearing from her
face, and the old child -like look
which blue eyes wore meant to wear
tuns coming back into, them again.
"You are better," said 1 gent-
ly, taking no notice at her remark
upon my occupation. "You have
been lazy, madam. I am sure
you night very well have come down
to breakfast. You had a good night,
I suppose ?"
Ta-ta, who had followed her into
the room, pushed her nose lovingly
into her old companion's hand, and
Babiole hies a sensitively flushing;
face by bending low over the dog's
sleek head, I think she must have
found out by the confusion in her
room that something had happened:
the night before, the details of which
she could not remember ; perhaps
also she had a vague remembrance of
her expedition downstairs, and
wanted to find out what 1 knew
about It. But of course I knew no-
thing,.
"Yes, I-1 slept well—thank you.
Only I had da ea.m•s:"
"Did you 2 Not bad ones, I hope?"
She .glanced at me penetratingly„
but could discover nothing, ani 1 was
fighting with To -to over the frag-
ments of the morocco ring case.
"No -o, not exactly bad, but very
strange. Do you know—I found -my
travelling hat and cloak—lying
about—and I wondered whether
my sleep—I had put them on—thin
bag I was—going back to London 1"
All this,' uttered very slowly and
with mach hesitation, I listened to
without interruption, and then stand-
ing :up with my back to the fire,
nodded to her reassuringly.
"Well, so you did, Mrs. Scott, and
a nice fright your sleep -walking
propensities gave mo, I can tell you'.
It was by the luokiest chance. in the
world that I didn't brrtin you' with
the poker for a burglar when I
heard footstope in the hall in the
aniddle of the night 1"
"You' did," cried she, pale to the
lips with apprehension.
"Yes; and when Y saw you you
mattered s fu
ng
couldn't,ldn
t tu
-
derstand, and then ,von' half woke up,
and you went back quickly to your
own room again, leaving me consider-
ably wider awake than before.
"Is that all ?" asked Babiole, the
faint color coining back to her face
again.
"It was quite weigh for me, I as -
nitre you, And I hope you will take
your walking exercise for the future
in the day -time, when my elderly
nerves aro at their best."
Babiole laughed, much relieved, She
evidently retained snob a, vivid Ina -
pression of the thoughts which had
preyed upon her excited Mind on the
pre`yious evening that she Was tor-
mented by the fear or the dire re-
membrance of having given thein ex-
pression. She now looked with awak-
ening interest at the odd collect:tea
on the table. .
'To be :O tl.. reed
t oil. a .)
pared to offer her affection, and
she had preferred an Interest in The eanfidf.ng woanta.n should study
domestic architecture, which I had tltel dob'trItte of selection, ,
r. A Christmas Ghost Story 13
My Strange Experience at a Dramatic Rehearsal
W.N'V.M/Y/VVv�+v�M/.nM.►M/V..I'VWVYVW/�
EXPERIENCE I.
1, E
liz a
abet t
1 B �nbo
e w, have led an
Uneventful, colorless life for the
main part, yet, it Inas been my fate
to have been' a participator ea two
weird • experiences—one atragedy,
thle other only one of those umate-
cou'ntablo tillage which no one can
understand, one can, only wonder and
cogitate over them, not daring to
doubt their veracity.
No, their truthfulness is only too
real to me wino was in, a measure
connected with them.
It is a Lun'uy thing whet one thinks
of it, that in both cases it was at
Christmas -tide that the events oc-
curred, when we had met together
for days of frolic and merry -making.
That, was some years ago ; the chief
aptres's in one drama is "lying in a
peaceful little hillside graveyard,
within sound of the Cornish sea ; the
wail of the sea birds; the moaning
of the wind through the caves, and
the dull warning -bell on the dread
Deadman's Rock, aro he» perpetual
dirge. Poor child 1 Here was a
short and happy life, bat for its
traglc end. The other heroine is
now the happy wile of en Indian
civilian, a small queen in her way,
in the little coterie over which she
reigns; half 'French, her pretty lit-
tle foreign ways and gracious man-
ners make her a favorite always, her
tact and Insight into character keep
Tee N,
Pr'r'
her from becoming lnxolved in the
social biekerings, heart-burnizigs and
jalousies whclhso often mar the
peacefulness of an. Indian station
life. The funny thing is that to this
day she is Lgnoraat of the curious
part sl.le played in my ghost story,
and even should she read this, which
Is most unlikely, 1 doubt if she could
recognize herself.
As each' C.bristmas draws near one
is apt to dwell on tiie memories of
former seasons with, their joys or
sorrows, their gay or gloomy hours.
For my Parti 1 think that one is apt
to feel depressed, or at least very
serious in one's musings, not necee-
sarily on one's own account but
in thinking over the life -stories of
one's friends, As I sit by my lonely
]hearth, in the pretty but solitary
"clhez-mol," the two Yule -tides of
wallah I Will tell you stand out en
sharp relief from the many ordinary
and prosaic seasons 1 have passed
In various lands and among diverse
folk. The first tale especially haunts
me, it isi so difficult, in a way, to
realize that its tragic events ever
really happened, so strange and so
utterably u'naccountabie, I canonly
tell you ahouit it all in a plain, un -
garnished fashion, and leave you to
make what you can of it.
I Wee Invited this particular year
to spend my holidays—did I say 1
ry is
4,1, governess ?—ln the lovely Corn -
tele home of ,some girls who had been
at ,the Parisian school in which I
was teaching. bfy early yearsiaad
been spent in the south of France,
with. my- 'invalid mother. At her
deaths I was not audowed with many
Worldly goods, and I was glad to
accept the post offered to me in
one of the best schools, at Neuilly.
My perfect knowledge of French, a
of my motherer tongue, was' in my
vor. Those were happy days; neve
can I forget the kindliness of my
dean madame, who was ever a another
to me, nor the affection showered
on me by my girl -friends, Englisha
American and French -yes, and Can
adiane, too 1 i
Lanlrydrock was a most fascinating
old place, with lovely lawns, and
paths innumerable sloping through
the most delicious woods down to a
dear little bay, 'with a sandy beach,
hemmed in with grand old cliffs. Even
in winter it was a joy to sit on ehe
rocks, bathed in sunshine, looking at
the blue, blue sea, the red -and -orange
sailed fishing boats, and the coasting
vessels passing up and down, the
lovely gulls with a silver glint on
their wings, and the rich brown sea-
weed -covered rocks ; you felt you
could never gaze at it long enough„
nor drink iri sufficient of the soft
salt air. The greed old avenues were
bordered with hydrangeas blue, pink
and cream—rhododendrons, as well as
bamboos, and other tropical plants,
for in the balmy West Countree,
even in winter -Lime, there is a wealth
of blossom and greenery to charm
the eye and make one feel one had
almost cheated winter, and were not
so much worse oft than those who
had flown to the Riviera for salub-
rious air and sunshine.
We were a merry house -party. Be-
sides my girlfriends there was a
pretty young married daughter, with
her soldier -husband and darling baby
boy, also a young Oxford cousin and
little Adrienne Lyall, an orphan niece
of my host the Squire, who lived in
this hospitable home except when
visiting her father's people in Jersey.
She was a pretty little thing, with
graceful, slender limbs, brown eyes
which could look very pathetic and
grave at times, and wavy hair rolled
high in French fashion on her patri-
cian little head. She was sensitive
and highly strung—I often won-
dered what woul,:l have become of her
had her lines been cast In less pleas-
ant places. Her young mother's life
had had a tangle story in it, and if
there be anything in heredity it is
no wonder that Adrienne was hyper-
sensitive and nervous.
As a variety to the usual Christ-
mas bait given at Lanhydrock it was
decided that this year the county
should be amused and entertained
with theatricals, followed by a dance
The young Oxonian was been on
them belonged to the Oxford .kniver
sity Dramatic Club and knew al
about it, Ile could get two other un
dergrachfates, good amateur actors
Who were staying in the county and
would think it no end of a lark to
bicycle cser for rehearsals.
So it was all settled ; we quickly
got under way. I say "we," fora I was
pressed into the service as prompt-
er, dresser and maker -up in chief.
There were parts for all "la jeun-
esse." Adrienne's did not exactly suit
her, in my opinion, but I do not know
that she would have been better in
any of the others. She was no ac-
tress, too nervous to remember her
cues, or the injunctions—oft repeated
—of tite stage manager, she could not
throw herself into her part nor do It
con amore. It was from no indiffer-
ence 1201' Indolence, poor little girl 1
At all odd hours I saw her with her
piny -book. walking up and down the
paths, or sitting in the summer-
house perched on the cliffs, murmur-
ing her part. I strongly suspected
her, too, of passing wakeful hours
during the time she should have been
having her beauty sleep. My observ-
ant eye took note of the dark circles
round her lovely eyes, when she came
to breakfast, and though usually
rather pale, -the pretty oval cheeks
were now absolutely colorless.
As time went on she grew worse
and worse, Each. rehearsal was a
dead failure, as far as she was
concerned. We were all in despair,
dumb despair, for we feared to dis-
courage her and make her more
nervous by any reproach or sharp-
ness; besides, we all loved her too
well to feel angry. It was only
anxiety on our part that site should
do herself justice and take her
share in the general success of the
comedy. Well, there was no one
else to take her part, so we could
only trust that If a hitch occurred
the other .actors would rush into
the breach and so cover any defi-
ciency, that it would not be ob-
served, or at any rate fiercely cri-
ticized, by the good-humored audi-
ence. The girl Herself looked the
picture of misery, but she had a
proud, reserved little nature, and
rarely confided in any one. Would
that she had, i
Often and often have I since re-
proached myself for not making/ an
effort to get at what was in her
mind. Something might have been
done to make matters better, mais
—nue voulez-volts? We can never
recall things of that sort; they are
taken owl of our kande, and for
some wise purpose!
Mae day arrived. We had arranged
to have the final' rehearsal in the
morning, so that after luncheon
the company might rest, or take
exercise, or do what they found
the host refreshilhg preparation for
the evening's exercises. I offered
s
r
•
1
to help the hostess and hire, Grant:,
the married daughter, with falai ar-
rangements and disarrangement of
the receptiola lemmy and l:nphotap'Lu
theatre. Mrs. Grant rva,; ilen.itedsgs
so she and I were to be general
helps behind: the scenes,
eine met in tee hall for tea at v'
o'clock. The oil hull looked lovely,
the dark oak furniture and p•.tztel-
Ing formed a charming baelcgroutrcl
for 'the wreaths of holly* and nitrile-
toe, the old armor gleamed lit the
firelight -ro
to 6Le1e ,
ou„
rit
had insinuated a sprig of mistletoe
into the inoutlipieoe in the helmet
of a gallant Crueader—on the huge
open - hearth burned a rert•1 yule -log.
Swine oho asked where edrienne
was, and some one else volunteered
that she had said she should go for
a long ride, probably over the gorse -
clad moors. Tilley said she had look-
ed very tired after the rehearsal,
Probably she was • now lying down
in her own room, with Jenefer, the
.old Cornish, nurse, in attendance, to
administer her favorite panacea,
"'a cap o tay."
We were all rather silent .at the
mention of Adrienne, The last re-
hearsal had been a sorry perform-
anee, as far as she was concerned.
Had it been any one else, the Oxon-
ians would probably have thought
her "a duffer," or "a stick," but
one and all liked her, and were sorry
for her. For her sake, we should
be glad if it were over.
Well, the mystic hour arrived, the
play began, and to our astonish-
ment, Adrienne's email part in the
first scene was better than any-
thing we had yet seen her accom'-
pli'sh.
"It is generally the way," whis-
pered liars. Grant, "people always
play up when the night comes, you
can't judge a little bit from ee-
hearsals."
You certainly cannot if this were
at case in point. Each time Adrienne
came on site acted better and more
easily, and see received a great deal
of applause. She looked lovely, but
that was to be expected, a little pale.
perhaps ; in fact, she grew too white
es the play went on.
:sirs. Grant murmured anxiously, "I
wish I could gat at Adrienne to pat,
on a touch: of rouge, and she seems
so gold, 1 suppose it is nervousness,
but when 1 tetielied her hands just
now Id giving her her cloak, they;
were icy. '
"She will be all right when it is
over," I said; "aro you not proud
of her ?"'
Well! she was clapped and ap-
plauded, and won golden opinions
from her fellow actors as well as the
spectators. It was all the more de-
lightful to us for being so unlookod
for., When it was over we all crowd-
ed together to exchange congratu-
lations, and for a few eminence no
one missed tidrienne, who had ap.-
parentdy Left the room.
"Just run use:;,'Elizabeth, and sea
where sin Iss Mee. dear," said Mabel
Grant, "site may feel Valet. And do
get her to come doern and refresh
the inner man ; a little champagne-
cup will put some color into those
rose -petal cheeks et hers."
I was leaving the room, when at
the door 1 encountered old Jenifer,
looking so white and startled, that
I exclaimed,
"Why, nurse, what is it, you look/
aisj if you had seen a Oast?" •
"'Tis a whisht business, Miss Ben-
bo•w," shas all, "where are my mis-
tress and `missle"—as she still called
Mrs. Grant.
She beckoned to them, saying:
"Please, ma'am, come up to Miss
Adrienne's room at once, there is
something wrong, I'm thinking."
We hurried upstairs as quietly as
possible, so as not to alarm our.
geests.
Adrien'ne's room was dimly lit by;
a waning fire in the grate. :Across
the bed, lay a little figure in a darer
riding habit. One slender white hand;
hung down over the coverlet, her,
h;at lay, on the floor beside the bed,
"Heart dilvease," pronounced an
army doctor, who came up from
among the company at our summons,
"She has been dead •some hours.':
That Is all.
No one had ever dreamt that she
had anyt tag wrong with her, bat
nervousness over her expected fall -
ere may have hastened the end.
Who had relieved her of her part
and played it to such pea-fectiotz ?
A little Christmas ghost?
The Ever Womanly.
"1 halo to be contradicted," also
Slaie.
"Teen I won't contradict you," he
returned.
"You! don't love me," She asserted..
"1 don't," he admitted.
"You're a hateful thing," she crime,
• "1 am,'" he replied.
"I believe you are trying to teasel
me," she said.
"I am," he conceded.
"And that you do love me."
"I do."
For a moment rho was silent.
"Well," she said at: last, "I do hate
04 man who's weak enaulgh to be lecl
by a woman. Z-te ought to ]lave in
mind of his own—and strength." '
Ito sighed. What else could he do?
—Chicago Post. .
kl'ri:13
ltequiescat in Pace.
Columbus Citizen.
He boiled. the water that he drank,,
By rule he slept and ate;
$o wore hygienic underclothes
To get the bulge eta fate.
Thies science served hire faithfully,
And made, hien microbe -proof,
Dat yesrterda•y he met defeat,
By falling from a roof.
THE
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