The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1878-08-17


ordered off on service. She had yielded
to his wishes, because as there would be
no time for reception, public marriage
was not to be thought Of This should all
be performed in grave style in a few
weeks.
Naughty, naughty Kate However,
she was so loving and charming, it was
impossible not to forgive her, while she for
her part proceeded to get her picture ex-
pressly framed, and to hang it up in her
dressing room.
As for George, he decided to marry his
second best love. and became engaged
forthwith
Meantime Kate wrote to Mrs. Bellamy:
M DEAR:-I have succeeded splendidly so
far, am now Mrs. Lemoigne, you know, but
| am impatient of delays; wish to assume the
weeds, mourning will be so becoming to me,
and il will be so interesting, so, dear, wish
you would write a letter saying my poor,
dear, dashing Henri settled point of honor
really think that would be the best way to
arrange the matter. A duel is, after all,
delightful. Disguise your handwriting, and
sign it whatever you like, only let it be mail
ed in Washington the first time you get there.
Uncle Jacob, you know, is not the man to go
bustling about in search of particulars.
Therese Bellamy had been a perfect
witch in her school days, and now laugh
ing at the fun of the proceeding, she sat
down to write letter, mentioning in a
few melancholy lines the death of Captain
Lemoigne Slight details were given,
while the black border of the paper and
the extraordinary, ofhcer-like handwriting,
it would seem, were quite sufficient to give
an air Of authenticity, and Mrs. Bellamy
mailed it the very next day at Washington.
The letter was directed to Mrs. Henri
Lemoigne and when it arrived it brought
many wicked crocodile tears in the little
lady's eyes. A few suits of mourning were
then assumed, and the purchasing of jet
ornaments proved as delightful as had
been anticipated.
Now, so strangely do things come about
in this world, that it happened the very
week after this sad denoument, the real
Henri Lemoigne met his friend Fred
Lockwood
"My dear Fred" he said extending his
hand, ehave you been to see Mrs. Bellamy
yet, l should be SO glad if you would re-
new your acquaintance there by introduc-
ing me"
Il ought to call, said Fred; ''she viii
no doubt give a reception soon.
"And / should like to go into society,
now that l have returned from Europe,
and am really to inherit my aunt's fortune
And wish particularly to be introduced
to Miss Fanshaw, that young lady who is
visiting Mrs Bellamy. My photographer
says she is splendid"
"And Of course you were greatly set up
because she bought your picture p
"Of course; and now want you to call
as soon as possible, and if you love me,
tell me all she said about the picture"
"Oh l shouldn't tell you on that ac-
count; but / will call tomorrow evening"
ayes, indeed, Mr.. Lockwood said
Mrs. Bellamy, the following evening, as
that gentleman stood in her parlor before
an easel, sit is beautiful; it is the picture
of my darling friend, Miss Fanshaw-that
isl mean Mrs. Lemoignc; and such a
sad, romantic story. She was married,
and for some little reasons the marriage
was kept secret from everyone-indeed,
it was Just like Kate to do such q thing;
she is quite spoiled, but SO loving and ro-
mantle Her husband was very handsome,
and she was desperately in love with him;
but suddenly news came that he was dead
so dreadful. Now, of course, she is a
widow, and dresses in deep mourning, and
has her husbands picture hung up in her
dressing room with cypress twiued around
it.
"How very dreadful, said Mr.. Lock
wood, sand very strange, toe" )" he thought;
but the mystery of the affair required
caution on his part.
"And-" he hesitated, "she resides in
New York ?"
"Yes, with her uncle, Mr.. Ellison;
Jacob Ellison, you have heard of him; the
rich banker"
"And it was q secret marriage?"
"Yes, a secret marriage. The truth
was, the family were very eager to have
her marry her cousin, George Ellison, and
/ think it was to put the matter at rest
to get rid of importantly that she private
ly married Mr.. Lemoigne.
$50, so, - said Mr.. Lockwood to himself,
II get glimpse into the affair.
~ have small picture of Mr.. Lemoig-
ne" Mrs. Bellamy went on, taking up her
album. "The poor child had few copies
taken from her intimate friends.
Mr.. Lockwood saw the picture of the
veritable Henri Lemoigne before him
At late hour that evening he hasten
ed to his friends rooms, and the story was
gone over.
"By Jove, if that isn't luck !" said
Henri. "There was no mistake; it was
my picture Mrs. Bellamy showed?"
"No more mistake than there is in your
self at this minute.
"Well, well by heaven, that is good.
And now | am going to claim my wife.
'Do you really mean, Henri Lcmoigne,
that you are going to take the advantage of
Miss Fanshaw's act of rash imprudence ?"
snow, Lockwood, don't preach. am
certainly going to claim my wife. Has
she not chosen my picture to represent
her husband? ? My appearance is then to
her taste"
"Well, there's something of a differ
erence between man and his picture"
"Granted; but do you wish to dispar-
age me to that extent as to say that my
looks are all there is to recommend me ?
| admit | have committed a number of
blunders in my life didn't set to work
and make fortune. Then | thought
lessly gave offense to my good aunt by a
trifing kick at Blanche, her lap dog.
But, you see, fortune favors the brave;
my aunt has forgiven me and left me her
fortune, after all; so there is nothing to
hinder my going to claim my wife"
"You are too bad.
"Not at all; all things are fair in love
and in war l will see Miss Fanshaw--
Mrs. Lemoigne, that is-alone, and ifshe
positively refuses to admit my claim why
that alters the case. But, tomorrow |
60"
Miss Fanshaw sat in her beautiful dress
ing-roOm, when word came that 4 gentle
man was in the parlor who wished to see
her"
"His card, Lizetee."
"He did not send his card.