Evening Star Newspaper, February 22, 1896, Page 18

21 BHETEVENEING STAR: + SATURPAY, FEBRY A@¥*729, 01896-TWENTY-FOUR-PAGES.. (Copyright, 1896, by Bacheller, Johnson & Bacheller ) PART L In the morning room of a house in Hill street, London, S. W., a council of three had been for some time sitting over the affairs of young Humphrey Augustus William Frederic Dale, eighth Earl of Teviot, known to his intimates as “‘Tev.” ‘The dominant figure of the council was a lady, of aspect large, fair and troubled. She wore her bonnet, and that fact, added to the general appearance of the house in a winter livery of brown holiands, suggested that the dowager Countess of Teviot had come up to town for the day only. Standing with his back to the fire was a gentleman, advanced in y: spare, hook- nosed, courteous, well-dressed—evidently in ordinary times a delightful and lovable old boy—but at present abnormally out of humor. He was Col. Kilgore, cousin on the father’s side, and late guardian of the young earl. ‘The third member of the inquisition re- vealed himself tn look and manner so un- mistakably the family solicitor that enlarge- ment upon his appearance were needless. Mr. Cliff was a type of a class as unchang. ing and as solid in exterior as the Bank of England But, in spite of his composed countenance, in all the years he had be advice upon the noble house of t he had never at heart felt more de- Adelbert,” said Lady | “Do you want me to say I think he’s a very bad egg?” , addressing herself to colonel, jod bless my soul, madam,” answered the old gentiem: vely, “do you w me to say thai I think he is a very bad egg? The dowager shudd: extending her it hand to ward off the unpleasant im- No, Adelbert, she answered to be vulgar, ngelically and to und my already lacerated by misfortune. m has been impru- dent— “Impradent! Imprudent e a lion in a| is future and | and made himseif the tulk of the kingdom by his monstrous | That much is indisputable. The | tion now is—what remains to be done | xim, and with Belmore? ight sell one or two of the pictures cut of the gallery at Relmore—and I dare the gold service would fetch a pretty murmured Lady Teviot. A mere drop in the bucket beside and what the place costs to keep ed the colonel. it will be no doubt best more to some of th “i w ; but he must do As for me, I can for the house is com- r we might go to Alas- . where one lives for a mere trifle. If I could only induce Tev to with me to I would tell Jennings to begin at once, so that w eek. There is the litt: = had last year; if we wire, Jennings woudn't mind hurry- for on In that delicious air of the ta Tev's health might improve.” is not Tev's health that concerns me, the heartless colonel. “He Season at a good pri r the drawing rooms. get on at Cosyeote fortable, if marked is strong enough to do more mischief in his day: and my advice to you is to keep him away from Alassio. It is quite too converi- ent to Monte Cark No, my dear Agnes, Clif and 1 are fully agreed on one point. There will be no money to carry on Belmo: longer at the present rate. You must ablishment, and remove to . Where with the trifle of income i have, you can live at least re- ing up Belmore, it is only what fd have done had Tev_ married so I am prepared for that. Bat awfully afr: Adelbert, that my Is Gertrud 1 am poor hey will hardly be content at Cosy- ecte.” “i presume nc said the colonel, a grim the wrinkies around his eyes. ardiy think 1 would trouble _my- nes, with preparations for Lord ‘Peviot's accommodations anywhere in Eng- land, just at present.’ “Then what—what Is there to do? You know Tev hates travel for travel's sake. Hut no doubt it would be better for him to go somewhere, out of this cruel, carp- ing society of ours, which has no mercy on the indiscretions of a lad.” “Hum! Yet London can stand a fair share of ‘indiscretions,"” said the colonel. “However, my dear lady, there's nothing to be gained by barping on the old string. Ir Lord Teviot does us the honor to keep his engagement to mest us here this morn- ing, it is possible we may obtain from him some token of what are his own wishes in the matter.” “Oh; Tev wishes only to please me—and you—" murmured Lady Teviot, melting at thought of her son's submissive state of mind. “I sent you the beautiful letter he wrote me, Adelbert. I have not had such a letter from him since that time he was in trouble at Eton. A young man capable of writing such a letter as that, Col. Kil- gore, riust not be judged by the laws that apply to mere commonplace people.”” “Unfortunately society at large is not prepared to segregate Lord ‘Teviot from Mere commenplace people; and his offenses against it have been too numerous and flagrant to be overlooked. In plain words, Lady Teviot, your son is an outlaw in most of the houses he was born with the right to enter.” The dowager burst into tears. Mr. Cliff, not unaccustomed to scenes of this nature, and In the case of this especial client hav- ing been treated to them more than once, walked to the window and looked out, clearing his throit in a fashion that might mean anything. “To tell you the truth, Adelbert,” sobbed her ladyship, “Teviot bas disappointed me in many ways, but ix nothing more than in his ccnduct regaraing his engagement. I had every hope from the project of his marriage with Gertrude Clair. “Lord Brelincourt has forbidden Lord Teviot his house, madame,” replied the colonel, briefly, “‘and Lady Gertrude would be a brave woman if she took Teviot now.” “There are others,” went on Eady Te- viot, dreadfully depressed, but making a forlorn attempt to nail her colors to the mast. “With our large connection, Teviot ean certainly find somebody as good as m | s | her, swer. “Then there is no help for it,” exclaimed Lady Tevict, between genuinely bitter sobs. “He must marry an American.” A At the moment of this dramatic climax the door opened and Lord Teviot came into the room. Was a handsome, boyish young fel- with almost feminine regularity of feature, small of frame, Celtic of coloring and pleasant of e and manner. Cer- tainly the: ng about him to su: fest the tradi ck sheep. And attire was carefully and elegantly adj ed to m the “last cry” of the fashiona- ble tailor: “Good morning, mummy, dear,” he re- marked, cheerfully, kissing her upon one of her delicately market eyebrows; “Good morning, colonel. Mornin’, Cliff. Who's xoin’ to do it now? “Do what, my sen?" answered the dow- ager, trying to maintain her dignity. arry an American.” dh, Teviot, do not jest about this! it is our only hope,” exclaimed his mothi tearfully. “Col. Kilgore and Mr. Clit? will tell you that you have reached the last ex- tremity.”” have been telling me that any time if dozen years,” remarked his lord- ship, grinning, while the colonel and the lawyer looked things unutterable. he last extres i he sive and unanswei A few day plowing later a huge Cunard steamer ward throngh a rough autum- da among her first-class pas- ament of hereditary om that dispensi in the ki to the wo! “Ht ae Briton. But no soone t erpool on the sai K boat hound for : * Of the sta gan aimost a to be at home his fellow pa xe? of them we Sreater turning, e in famili after a summer of tr d and cn the cont Before ad an- chored oft town to take on the iatest og lerd identitie: & men the new world » he ste 2 bored sort of way s the srecdy gully swarm in the wake of the ship. and the g: vastics of the young ladies of Cork who had come out in their rowboats to dispose ‘as touched on accosted by a stranger in a fur-lined coat. Teviot’s attention was just then riveted by the spectacle of a “wild ee sly down a line h girl” slipping re. from the upper deck into her boat below, wherein a man lay napping in the morning sun. He was not disposed to £ the new com. patiently, end the assu: by offering h ace that he and hi were aboard, would b happy ‘to do 1 in their power to secure the social en- Joyment of Lerd Teviot during his visit to the states. My Lord Teviot, however, was not thus to be thrown away upon a chance acquaint- nee of shipboard. The steamer a ‘om aampton two days befo ied in its mail bags a letter s y the countess dowager to an cqtaintance she had made in the Riv: e year before—a Mrs. Harvey Wing, a dy of high fashion at Newport and’ in ew York. Mrs. Wing was, when the letter came to i] at her house at Newport, although m there had long since died a th. She was feeling very tired of everything, and uncertain’ what she out Mrs. Wing Was in Want of an “Ob- ject.” should next “take up.” The marriage of her daughter, some months before, to a man who had shown early in the action that he meant to keep his wife under his influence had deprived Mrs. Wing of pr ent companionship; for, in that respect, Mr. Wing, who spent his days as far aw as he could conveniently get from M. Wing, was not available. It was horr dull at Newport, and yet she could oly not think of opening her house in town till the time of the horse show, still some veel distant. The aspect of the sea and of 1 ture in general under the autumnal skies did not exhilarate her. To enjoy the coun- try at that season one must have plenty of work or cheerful company, or a light heart; and Mrs. Wing had none of these. She was, in fact, in that mental condition not classified by science, but in our latter days commonly occurrent among women of her class; Mrs. Wing was in want of an “‘ob- ject. aval may naw Grate meeiionelon ream ing, over her shoulder, the letter from Lady Teviot, that, as the perusal progress- ed, recalled animation long absent from its recipient's face. PART IL. Many women, on receiving each other's le 3, skim over the earlier portions with an intuitive feeling that the most inter- esting part will be found, like the snake's rattle, at the finish. Havirg assured thern- selves on this point, they go back and tm- bibe at leisure the information or disserta- tions they have skipped. ‘Thus, Mrs. Harvey Wing. surprised at an eplstie from Lord Teviot, by whom, al- though they had exchanged protestations of frierdship in the south of France the year before, she had fancied herself for- gotten, made scant work of the dowager's dull paragraphs about the times, the weather, the premier and her own health. The exuct point at which Mrs. Wing’s eyes began to take on’a look of animation was as fc:lows: = “I suppose you remember me mentioning my son, although his engagements did not permit him to join me at Cannes. He is goemg out in the Lucania on Saturday, to see America; and I have given him your address, which I found upon a card that I fortunately kept. I fancy there will be no trouble in his finding you or your hus- band, who, you said, was always in the city when he was not on his yacht. Either one of you would do to put Teviot in the way of seeing things a bit; but I must beg you to recommend him to the less expen- sive hotels, as he is rather down on his luck just now, and he has not, ‘like you Americans, money to throw away. I have several times thought of you, since Cannes, | when I've met your country people abroad, squandering on all sides, and ruining hotels and show places for us—I wonder why they can’t find something to amuse them at home, without coming here in such troops. “To return to Teviot: As you glways seemed so obliging and are a mother your- self, I will tell you in confidence that it is very important for him to recoup his losses in some way; and if he should find a match suitable to him in America I have made up my mind to bear it, and to pray that in the end it may be sanctified to me. I remem- ber now that we got your daughter’s wed- ding cards; so, having just settled her, you will be in the way of knowing how these things are done in your society. I am going to ask you to have an eye upon my boy, and keep him from making any irre- mediable mistake. You know one can’t al- ways trust a young man’s judgment to choose right, when there are a lot of pretty girls such as I am told you have over there, though for my taste they are generally too pale, and decidedly forward and over- dressed. It is quite impossible that he should marry any but one of your great fortunes; a little one would not be worth while; and I hope she will be healthy and presentable, and not talk through her nose. They would live chiefly here at Belmore, which is one of the finest places in shire, and there is a house.dp,,Hill street, and a castle in North Wales, and one or two little estates where he rarely goes. I am about removing from here to Cosycote— two hours out of town—and if you ever come to England again you must let me know that you are in town, and come out to take luncheon with me some day. Te- viot, as you will see, is one of the hand- somest young men of his set, and he has beautiful manners; and although he has given us a little anxiety by his wild ways lately, he is only a boy, after all. Then, too, he lost his poor father just as he was going into Eton; and his guardian has Proved very exacting and uncongenial with him, so there is much excuse for Teviot. If he marries a decent girl—your women are pretty generally straight, I find, except when they are very fast, and then they are quite too dreadful—there is no reason wy my son should not settle down and reform altogether of his youthful indiscretions. 1 am writing at greater length than I in- tended, but the subject justifies me. It is realiy quite a comfort to think I am send- ing my dear lad out to one who might be his her—for your daughter was nine- teen last year, I think, and Teviot is bu three and twenty. No doubt you will sec hint soon, and I will leave the rest to you. It tkere should come a time when you think I could do any good, I will not flinch. 1 will go to Amer if »reath, and let fall § r cheek, for a moment, je good red American blood of er Hill. too lat2 in the day to expect the F ish arisctocrat to change her spot: said, hotly. “But it will go hard with me if I can’t pay that old thing off for her im- pertinence. When I think how she used y riage! Who wants her lord- As if we hadn't enough of them sponging upon us— deal to do for any to write to Harves From anger she subsided ss trooped through her @ evolved, dismi before she euse of anticipated triumpa. us.on at which she finally one into thought. head; for the con but ings could not measure of her ultimate success in * ot. A characteristic feature of the situation Was that at the close of her reverie the wa ef patriotic protest in the offended lady st had i to give place to complacent satis on in the prospect that, after ail, ev y—or almest everybod, would envy ker the position of bear-leader ctly new young lord! The first thing needful was to write a let- o her husband, bidding him seek Lord jot, uud feich him to Newport for®a getting “Et is a good deal to do for any one," she thousht, sitting down before a desk littered with silver-mounted frippery, “to write to Harvey. On second thoughts, I believe I can get it all into a telegram, Harvey will come, of course; he can't afford, just now, to decline an oy ‘ture from mi And Mr. Wing, reclaimed for the occasion, appeared duly in the unwonted capacity of master of his own house, bearing in his train Lord Teviot and my lord’s valet, a dark, fateful personage, who might have teen twin brother to the Sphinx. Teviot, on lis best behavior, appeared to unexpected advantage in the eyes of both host and hostess. He was natural, good-humored and decidedly pleasant company; bore himself without ostentation, and seemed always anxious to be rid of the state attending up- on the handle to his name. On the whole, Mr. Wing felt that if there were a choice between the various youngsters who smoked his cigars, ate his entrees and drank his wines, this Englishman was remunerative beyond the average. But even such a consolation for the labor 1 appearance as the head of hi arEe, expensive and troublesom shment, and for conjugal attent during the period of three wn- did not suffice for the resiless ing. On the morning of the fourth of Lord Teviot’s visit he explained to his noble guest that he had been called ack to tcwn on business, but hoped Teviot wouldn't, on tbat account, hurry himself about leaving. On this point Teviot, who in the course of his varied experierce had learned to recognize a good thing when he saw it, was fully in accord with Mr. Wing. The ease, the luxury, the completeness of lifi in the house of an American millionaire— in spite of a lot of people asking one out to dirner ten days ahead—seemed a direct recompense bestowed on him by fortune for bis previovs sufferings at her hands. Mrs. Wing, a youngish, lively woman, who looked ont for all his comforts and in whose company he needed not to trouble himseif with mental effort, as she supplied all that sort of thing herself, was the en- tertainer best suited to bis needs. So Mr. Harvey Wing at once returned to “By Jove! who's that?” New York and Lord Teviot continued to while away the nelancholy autumn days in great ccmfort at Newport. ‘Thus far his lordship had given no evi- dence of more than a vague general appre- ciation of the young women to whom Mrs. Wing Lad made him known. The society of the fair sex seemed to him, indeed, less enlivening than that of the men attracted into the radius of his distinguished pres- ence. Nor had Mrs. Wing disturbed the serenity of his enjoyment by any hint as to the dowager’s intentions for her wandering son. Like a clever creature, as she was, Lord Teviot’s hostess bided her time. One afternoon while they were out driv- ing in her victoria a gleam came into Mrs. ‘Wing’s eye as che saw approaching them two girls cn horseback, attended by a groom. One of these maidens was possess- the other, small, dark, piquant, shone like @ ruby in juxtaposition to a pearl. “By Jove! Who's that?” demanded Lord Teviot, sitting forvard, as, in accompani- ment fo ‘Mrs. Witg’s salutation, he took off is & ae “That! Which one?" asked Mra. Wing, indifferently. . “i “The light mean. She is the pret- tiest I've seen, ‘by far. How is it we never Set eyes Of hér before?” “That is Mi8s Cassandra Meigs of Chica- ee said the lady, as If dismissing the sub- ject. n “The name's ¢ mouthful, but she’s a stun- ner. Where has she kept herself since I came here?” Dhey've been in Lenox for a week.” “She's a sturmer—that light one,’ ob- served his lordship, in whom did not lie the gift of origina} expression. Mrs. Wing be- stowed on him a transient inscrutable glance. “Many people prefer her sister'selooks— the dark girl, you know—Miss Olive Meig: she said. “They are orphans, and have been spending the summer here in the Van Schoonhoven villa.” “What—alone?” asked his lordship, with a stare. “No; duly chaperoned by a lady who has been presented at three courts. Theirs is a peculiar case, and the, DewWSDADets. WH Rever have done speculating as to whic! one is to get the plum.” “What plum?” {A fortune, of—for the sake of local color let us say- their father, who died a few years since, was so afraid they would be married. for thelr money, he left the most eccentric of wills. For all their present and possible needs, married or unmarrried and until they shall be thirty years old, ample pro- vision was made by # trust which gives them an income, but keeps the estate until that time undivided. Fut it's generally be- Heved there is in existence a later will, which is not to be produced until they are both married.” NOh, I say.” remarked his lordship— “And that later wili,” went on Mrs. Wing, seeing. without looking, sidewise, “disposes of nearly the whole estate to one daughter-- leaving the other with but a pittance. The puzzle is that no one knows which of them is to be made rich by that later will.” MJ Say.”" repeated the earl, incredulously. ‘This is everywhere belicved. People are pretty equally divided as to the Miss Meigs’ attractions; but the uncertainty as to their fortunes keeps their admirers agreeably on edge. Portia’s caskets, and the rest of tt.” But isn’t it rather rough,” exclaimed Lord Teviot, who did not understand the last allusion in the least, “upon the girl Who's to be left out in the cold?” he Won't suffer frem privation, In any case; and the mysterious document is sup- posed to recommend her to the considera- tion of her sister. After all, it's no worse than your fashion in England, of bestow- ing a rich feast upon one child and cheese- bearings upon the others. But, as the mat- ter seems to interest ycu, suppose we look in at their house on cur return. I dare sey they wouldn't mind giving us a cup of You will have a better Opportunity of contrasting Cassandra's fair beauty with Olive’s brunette coloring. And your call would be such a gratification to the lady who has been presented at three courts. : Ww. you're chaffing me,” observed his Icrdship. But he made no objection when, a half hour later, the horses’ heads were turned in at the gates of the Van Schoonhoyen villa. PART Il, A tall cathedral clock, standing sentinel at the foot of the stairs, boomed five, as the little earl followed his leader into the hall of the Newpert dwelling temporarily in the possession of the two Miss Meigs. The servants had just lighted the lamps, revealing the’medley of eastern draperies, e plants, tiger skins, Moorish pot- es, Indian brass ar vres vases, that with chairs and tables, and gold-worked screens, formthe customary Incumberment of the mod sitting room. There, kneeling before a fire of logs, Olive, in her riding habit, in the act of feed- ing the blaze with bits of drift wood that sent up swirlg-of blue and violet flame. Be- hind a tray just deposited by the footman, a lady in blaek crepon and jet was trac ferring little Ecoops of tea from a Que Anne caddy to a well- ed pot. Occu- pying, as if ‘by right very center of the ru ding the first atten- tion of newcomers, the beautiful Cassandra stcod warming her hands, chilled by a long ride in the autu i tion he . did not reach more than to nulder. Olive, who, as they rung up in x pretty and un- nd wi ith pil- a better match for his 's face the charm of some way to elud= ato sent the trills of Q the bi irp- r that is- hared he- that portion Veviot Stood Beside Her. of his anatomy that did duty for a heArt the e ied an impulse to think it would be if Belmore House had a mistress who could laugh outright, lke Olive. Teviot, aware of the necessity in his case, had, up to this time, been dailying with American opportun Heartily as he objected to the yoke of marriage, more heartily he felt the need of cash and conse- quence now lacking to his enjoyment of favorite haunts abroad. And, at last, he had made up mind to show the daring accredited by history to some of his histo: forefathers. He was determined not to go home from America without carrying as a mask for his previous misconduct a rich and pretty wife. Cassandra, now confronting him, seemed all that could be desired. Her inanimate magnificence of contour and complexion a: sure him that a Lady Teviot, nee Meigs, might take her place unchallenged among the previous beauties of his line. He could count upon a welcome to her from mother and ler friends. The display of her weuld serve to rehabilltate him in the eyes of all but unimportant critics. Had he heen bat reasonalwy sure-she was the owner of the fortune, Teviot.would have felt he was falling in love in the best old-fashioned way. Olive, on the other hand, possessed for him little “face valu She was not only small and brown and slim of figure, she was distinctly mischiefloving and unconvention- al. Her eyes, when he had been presented to her, had surveyed him with a glance of indifference, tinged with mockery. There was not much to he said for her on the score of manners. Yet, when she smiled, there was something that caused him to look again quickly. _ Teviot was auite sure she thou S ing of his fictitious advantages or mame and title. He had an uncomfortable tm. pression that between her and Mrs. Wing was passing some merriment relating | un favorably to. himeelf. But, all the sama her voice and laugh and gesture possess for him an attraction he had certainly not language at his command to define. Other people came in, among them a young man or two, who gravitated natur- ally toward Olive, whilst Teviot and Cas- sandra were as naturally left together on the rug. When Miss Meigs finally moved, in a slow, majestic way, to take a chair, ‘Teviot felt constrained to follow her. With his back turned to Olive, the young lord was now enabled to fix his distracted at- tention once more upon her sister. Then Cassandra’s statuesque beauty, her soft gutturals of speech, her large, unsmiling eyes turned upon his, renewed in him the conviction that, all things else being equal, he need go no further to find his bride. ‘The first impression of her beauty took new hold of him. His Mrs. Wing’s story, conceived the idea that ed of. a rare and obvious blonde beauty;| the general attitude of those present to- ‘fabulous millions. It seems that, ward Cassandra was one of recognition ot | neither sight nor hearing. ager Absurd to suppose that the elder sister would be passed by for a mere one of a creature like that little laughing re, When Mrs. Wing arose to withdraw Lord. Teviot from the scene, he observed, stand- ing behind Olive’s chair, a young man who bore upon his artless countenance an ex- pression denoting that he would not yield his place there, unless compelled to do so by armed force. “You must come again to see us, Lord Teviot,” said Olive, hospitably, as their English visitor stopped before her to say good-bye. “By the way, let me introduce to you our friend, Mr. Christopher Strong— Lord Teviot.”” As the two men perfunctorily shook hands, upon his lordship's face there was no ‘particular expression. One Ameiican, more or less, made so little difference to him, Upon the countenance of Mr. Strong there was manifest an unmitigated scowl. “There. You had to speak to him,” Olive sald, exultingly, when my lord had passed on. “But how rude you were to the preity little bo; To explain this situation we shall have to confide to the reader what Olive's legal protectors and nearest of kin were us yet ;anawase. of. Mr. Christopher Strong, 2 young professional man of New York, in Newport for a day only, had very recentiy succeeded in wringing from Miss Ulive Meigs a conditional promise to marry him, if at the end of a reasonable time her pres- ent predilection for him should prove justi- fied by mature acquaintance. Strong, who against his own better judg- ment had laid his future at the feet of this little witch, had now just arrived from town to find installed as her visitor the notorious Lord Tevioi, against whom he had lost no time in entering an honest pro- test. But Olive, willful as she was inno- cent of mind, had refused to hear what she believed an outbreak of jealousy, and the result was her audacious forcing of Strong into an acquaintance with the object of his animosity “Very well,” said the young man, con- trolling himself with an evident effort. “There are not many points I'd wish to make with you. But 1 ask you to trust my judgment that Lord Yeviot is not fit for you to know.” “Prove it!” she said, In girl fashion; and, when he did not answer, stamped her foot. Seeing that he had noeidea of yielding his point, the rebellion of her nature against constraint led her to regret that she had r dreamed of subjecting her will to his. “Unde nd that I take orders from no she said, hotly—“and t I shall know and associate with exactly whom I please. “You are resolved?” he asked, growing white around the lips. Olive nodded. What further might have occurred in their ill-timed conversation was. arrested by the departure of the other Suests and the appearance at Olive’s el- bow of har chaperon. Mrs. Blight, an edept in the art of hast- ening the depariure of long-staying young “I won't go in for Lord Teviot, if you want him for ‘keeps. ” men, had only that morning bestowed upon the girl a polished screed against this very Seressive and unproi Strong. At the first glimpse of the aspect of af- "s between them now, she felt that her had not been thrown away. trong retired without request urn for dinner, that, dering the ss of » he had hoped might been extended to him. And Olive, without a word for anybody, ran up to her room. Mrs. Blight, a sister of the first wife of the late Mr. Meigs, had been invited dur- ing the last illne: of that eccentric gen- tleman to occupy hes present pr She widow of an expatriated to whom had ber award of dy rifice of r n allot- upon iurning to was bal- ulowance from the he, more than any native y her liberal of the estate. » Was credited with knowledge of about the 1 will which was to make one o y charges an heiress of enormous wealth and leave the other cnly a fairly well-Gowered maiden. In cons quence, Mrs. Ilicht's relations to society was in marked ccntrast to that of tue or- dinary paid chaperen. Whatever her knowledge, Mrs. Blight kept it severely to herself.’ No one could Say that she faced to the right-a' ut for one more than the other of her giris. The most that could be alleged against her was she disapproved of matrimony for the and thought Cassandra's manner y upon a republi dining togeti on the into dis- g of Teviot's ission of the earl. in a flood of ari ave the oth- S the full history of his noble line, his brilliant position in the peerage, and the beauties of B House and Park h her late husband, in a fly from the On the subject of reer, the chaper- pansive, for it had now been ince she had lived abroad; even the of the ed by het through a (which, in company he had one were Vie! of rose-color, Do you not think, my dears,” she con- cluded, as they rose to return to the draw- young man has an ex- 2? said Cassandra, he can find a mount, he is going io ride with me tomorrow.” “Contrast him, for example,’ pursued s. Blight, not looking toward Olive, who, n two red spots in her cheeks, had been her dinner in vith that vecimen of the average American roturier Christopher Strong. You needn't bother about Mr. Strong,” id Olive, brusque! “He's gone, and we shan’t see him any more. I’ve made up my to cultivate his lordship. Just now ‘assy has first chance, but if she'll give me leave, I'll enter the lists with her, and tilt for a coronet. It will be fun, for Mrs. Wing confessed that she has told him the old story about our financial prospects. “The truth of which, my dears, you were only permitted to know last week, when Olive reached her majority,” interrupted Mrs. Blight, elegantly, and was just then cailed away to write one of her model notes. “And a great relief it was to have our minds set at rest on that score,” said Olive, when the sisters were alone. “Now, Cassy, I'm badly in need of fun, but I won't go in for Lord Teviot if you say yeu want him ‘for keeps.” Absurd, Olive. As I said before, he is very nice, but I met him only this after- noon. I meant to ask you who you thought made that wrap Mrs. Wing wore today? ‘I don't know,” replied Olive, absently. She was volving schemes by which she might relieve her overburdened heart, pun- ish Strong for having been true to her and to himself, dispese of Lord Teviot as an in- truder, and, at the same time, still the pricks of her own conscience. PART IV. One day in December, the young Lord Teviot set cut from his lodging near Sth avenue—Mrs. Wing had taken heed of the dowager’s instructions to recommend to him a cheap abiding place where he was at little expense for meals—for a walk in Gen- tral Park. i It was an unusually mild day, although ice held the ponds, and snow lay under trees that, when the sun shone bright, stained the whiteness at their feet with purple isles of shadow. After coquetting for awhile, the sun had gone altogether into seclusion, leay- ing the great city’s pleasure ground envel- oped in pearly mist, through which the sounds of far-off fog horns on the river, the whizz of elevated trains and vehicles rum- bling along the adjacent streets, fell dead- ened upon the ear. A lover of nature’s moods might have found especial charm in the eerle look of the gray-green lan: in the wood smells called forth by damp- ness, in the promise of spring that thus in- sinuated itself amid the assertions of rude winter. But Teviot had for such things Perhaps, for the first time in his life, the little ‘was pos- sessed by a distinctly keen sensation of anxiety. Hurrying through the frequented portions of the park, he reached a certain bosky dell, its branches alive with gray squirrels and chattering sparrows, and dis- appeared within its precinct. Since the first meeting at Newport of his lerdship with the Misses Meigs, hardly a day had passed that he had not recklessly ex- posed himself to the influence of tneir s0- ciety. In vain had been marshaled before Lim—at the horse show, the portrait show, the opera house, everywhere—a glittering phalanx of maids and matrons illustrating American charm and beauty. To all other women save the two fair sisters from Chi- cago, who were known to be handicapped by the terms of an exasperating will—and no one knew which of them Teviot preferred —he was as adamant. And as atientions to girls under their circumstances were as good as disinterested, some people even began to look on Teviot as that rara avis among vis- iting Englishmen—a man who was marry- ing for love. To prove, however, that he had not alto- gether forsworn his nationality, his tord- ship accepted on all sides, and with no dis- crimination as to the givers, invitations to clubs, coaches, yachts, dinners, luncheons, suppers, hunts and visits out of town. Tne inconvenience of a future call to repay these civilities in kind upon his own soil was the less feared, because of Teviot's long practice in the matter of contracting debts he had no intention of ever being able to liquidate. It was a pleasant Hfe, and soothing to one who had for some time seen nothing but the cold shoulders of respectable peo- ple in his own country, to be caught to the besom, as it were, of select American hos- pitality; to be told off in every* company to the society of the most dignified matron or the choicest young girl; to have precedence, everywhere, over the white-haired and reverend signors of the republican beau monde. Tevict, who cared little for hi: rank, and less for his title, was actually puzzled to understand the extent cf his own deserving in the minds of these pi- triotic Americans. But, being a man, and a young one, he thought it all very Jolly, and certainly an immense improvement upon what he would just row have been enjoying in his native island. in the merry-go-round of dining and win- Ing and junketing with his New York ad- mirers, however, Teviot had not lost sight of the main chance. New York, for an epi- sede, was pretty fair; and the Yankees, on their own ground, were a “good sort” cer- tainly. But London, and Belmore, and re- habilitation of his bank account were the obj to be striven for. for his en- tanglement with the Misses Meigs, imme- diately upon arrival, he might even now have had a mind at rest, with the certainty of fetching his own price in the matri- montal market of America. It sometimes occurred to him to wonder whether there had been any mischief in the intentions of his first patroness, in so soon running his bark upon the shoals. But Mrs. Wing, after her return to town for the winter, was so fully occupied with her cwn infelicities with Mr. Wing, Lord Teviot had no opportunity to call her to account. The fact was, that though he admired the elder of the two sisters more than any other wo- man he had seen, and was fully persuaded she would fill all personal requirement likely to he made upon his counte is Vagrant faney had actually attached itself with enthusiasm to Olive. Never had Teviot experienced, at the hands of any woman, so complete a men- tal and moral overhauling as that bestowed von him by this young girl. At no mo- nt, since their acquaintance set in, had he been able to decide whether she was in Jest or earnest. Her purity of mind, her downright speech, her wit and merriment, were a revelation to the jaded little lord In her company he was continually unde- cided whether to enjoy himself orto turn and go away in a pet. And although he could not but often suspect her inclination to afford him an opportunity to make love to her, somehow or other the opportunity had never come. Thus matters stood, wien, after they had been meeting in a general way for many days in New York, and when Tevio! had begun to chafe under a sense that she was eluding a conversation alone with him, Olive had given him a hint of something better. Only an off-hand hint, to be sure, that if he happened, on such a day, at such an hour, to be strolling in a certain portion of the park—he might perchance find her there Prepared to talk with him uninterrupted, upon subjects of importance to both of them. As might have been expected, no sooner had Olive gone to this length than the earl began to pull himself together, and wonder what the deuce the little girl was after. Racking his brain for an explanation of her overture, he jumped at the conclusion that, like most of the women he had known best. Olive -was, after all, a self-seeker, and meant, if possible, to get ahead of her sis- ter, by bringing to a prompt declara- tion and offer of his hand. Yet here, trotting up and down an alley of the little wood she had indicated, ner hands close in ker muff under the frills of one of those fantastic capes that kept man at his proper distance, he found Miss Olive Meigs, looking not in the least sentimental, but rather equipped for busines “Well, what if I did?" he said. “Come on. Walk up and down, while Wwe talk,” she said, authoritatively. “It will keep us from taking cold. Is that what you brought me here to v2” he asked, taken aback and piqued. No. I brought you here, chiefly, to see whether you would come,” she answered, giving him a side glance and a smile of the variety he had found irresistible. “But— there were other reason: “By Jove, I believe you'd get me to go anywhere if you held up your little finger,” he exclaimed, with abandonment of conse- quences. “Don't be too sure. But since we have been together I have at least kept you from stagnating, haven't I?” Another one of those side glances, and it was all up with his litile lordship. i, rather,” he said, throwing pru- dence to the winds. “You see, I never saw anything like you before. And I'll give you my word, you're the only woman that never bored me. I don't believe I could stand another woman, after you——” “Stop,” she interrupted. “You have some conscience, I hope, and you can't think it's fair to delude a poor little Choctaw savage with false hopes. A little more, and you'll be making me a proposal.” “Well, what if I did?” he said, staring. “Only that I, too, have a conscience, and I don't want to let a trustful young man, so far from his home and friends, commit himself to me without knowing ‘the real state of my affairs. Affairs. Ominous word. It brought back to Teviot his debts and duns, and even a dim vision of his late guardian and the prc- testing Mr. Cliff. And it chilled his affec- tion for both Misses Meigs. “Besides there is some one else to be taken into consideration; my poor sis- ter—,” she said, with a choking voice. She had turned away her head. Teviot thought she was about to cry. Was there no woman living who couldn't “have it out” with a feliow without a cry? ‘Poor, dear Cassandra, to whom you have paid just exactly as much attention as you have to me. How will she bear it? Even the newspapers are saying she will be Lady Teviot. Pray, don’t speak till you've heard what I think it my duty to tell you now. Everybody knows over here how important it is for Lord Teviot to marry a great for- tune, end everybody knows it’s only for him to chocse which one he will taks. “Yes,” said his lordship, simply, as she paused-for him to speak. “Then I want to prove to you that for your sake and my sister's I can be mag- nanimous. I want you to know that only the week before we met you Cassy and I were informed by Mrs. Blight that by the terms of my father’s will—” At this point the young lady executed = ol — tiny sneeze, and the delay it occasioned wag ™ * to her hearer the tormcnt of Tantalus. “Oh! good gracious, I Just knew wé should take cold in this damp place. Let us tvalk out to the driveway yonder,” she said, in a prosaic way. “Where was I?—oh, it's an old story now; we have known it for sev- €ral weeks; there actually was such a will a8 has been tulked about (my poor, dear father, how anxicus he was to save us from fortune hunters. wasn't he?)—a will leaving his whole large estate to one of us, and a mere trifle of an Income to the other —and the lucky one, as might have been supposed, was his eldest child, Cassandra.” Lord Teviot fairly gasped. For some mo- ments he said not a word, then asked per- « mission to light a cigarette. So absorbed was he in his occupation end in reassem- bling his forces to take up conversation at the embarrassing point where she had let it drcp that he did not observe, standing under a tree on the western’ driveway where they issued from the wood, the fig- ure of a very impatient young man, who jooked much out of humor with the part assigned to him to pla “You—you—a—surprise me—really,” ob- served his lordship, when he could no long- er keep her waiting for an answer. In- ternally, he was wondering how soon he could find Cassandra at home to him, and thinking with fine sympathy that, one day, he would make up her loss somehow to & this very plucky Uttle Olive. , “That is just where we differ,” said Olive, in clear tones, as she beckoned to her side her waiting cavelier. “For you do not sur- prise me in the least. Mr. Strong, here, will bear me witness that I told him, not half an hour since, exactly how our interview would end. And I am bound to say, he scoljed me sly because I would and suspicto: m her to the darkling Strong. ak to each other, please,” said » laughing. “This is my chance; no one shall take it from me. I told my sister also, Lord Teviot, of the lesson I meant to &ive you, and I had her leave to try it, th have no idea that it will do youany good. all know how nearly your bee in my keeping today, and I ‘ k it will help you with her. In any case, you ought to be told of two things n First, that I'm engaged to marry Mr. Strong—please, Christopher, do keep still, and don’t ramp over the road like that, I'm © coming now, this minute—and, second—_” I think I have had enough,’" said his lord- ome semblance of dignity, e + but it is due me to t u this. My her, at Mrs. Blight's Solicitation, made a will later t n the one I spoke of— and, by that, Cassy and I—though we were ow of it till I had reached the dis- of twenty-one—share his fortune allow me to wish you a good remarked the little earl; and, el, he walked rapidly away. r from that date when sd to England. which he had ard of the ma to Mr. Ci Talked Over These Things With His Wire. nd of he reputed engagement of tor in Washington, wo, tion of Mrs. Blight, might be American people as rea: Strong, nt them, one day, as ador at an important fo en court. st r going viot talked But they the im- hould There cor on the ground new Lady T: te Mrs. Harve Ker divorce from fore it or solitude b “an object. since the other than the Wing, who had obtained r. Wing some months be- i to her to ¢ nher ithy gain taking up his lordship as (The nd.) THE PAR: oN WAS PUZZLED. He Feared That He Had Blundered is the Marriage Service. Frem the Chi 9 Tost. The clergyman was nervous. There coulda . be no question alout that. His duties wi at an end, but he hung around the receiving party, and his actions showed that he was troubled. He appeared to be endeavoring to convince himself that everything was all right, but without s Finally he tap; young man in knickerbockers on the shoulder and led bim to one side: don me,” said he, sh from one foot to the oth matter of some delicacy speak to you about. “Yes?” returned the young man, inguir- ingly. Vos,” replied the clergyman. you will take no offense. usual, but— “Was the wedding fee too small?” asked i ing uneasily ‘but there ts a that I wish to I trust it is a trifle un- the young man, as the c an hesitated. ‘Not at all, d*the cler- gyman, promptly. acteof the matter is that at the last minute I became somewhat confused—bewildered, as it were, by the novelty of the ion—and 1 would like to be a:sured that I got every- to the question of love, honor and obey, you know, 1 was afraid 1” The clergyman paused for a minute and then he blurted out: “You're the groom, aren't you?” “Certainl: “Then it’s all right, and you have no idea how that relieves me. You see, I have nev- er officiated at one of t dirgs before, an made a mistak I was afraid I might have Novels That Will Each. From the Philadelphia ‘Times. One of the largest contracts ever made— in fact, it is not improbable that it is the largest—in the book world was closed a few days ago. This contract means to the public that hetween now and summer a consignment of two million paper-covered books will be unloaded upon the book stands and at a cost of 5 cents each. There will be a fair profit on the books, as they will be manufactured for 2 cents and supplied to dealers at 3 cents apiece in lots of hundreds. The books be good in character, the idea being to flood the market with good reading at a small price, with the inducement held out to the bookseller of larger sales if smaller profits. The significance of such a move is in- teresting. it means that books are get- ting cheaper and cheaper, and will continue to grow in this way until the limit is reached. What that limit will be it is hard to say. One thing is certain—a tol- erably good paper-covered book cannot be produced and sold for less than 5 cents. And that will probably be the limit, un- less Mr. Siead’s “penny poet” idea comes over here. But that this is an era of - cheap reading matter is undoubted, and We can expect almost anything in the way of cheap-priced literature. ——_—-<ee- “Whats ina From the Texas Sifter. It was at the baptismal font cf a Dallas church, and the clergyman had the baby in kis arms. “What is the name?” he asked of the god father. “Josephine Smith.” “Joseph E. Smith, I baptize thee in the name—" “Not Joseph E.—Josephine,” interrupted the mother, in great alarm. “It’s not that mer? kind of a baby.” . e bloomer wed- ¥