Claiborne guardian. [volume] (Homer, La.) 1877-188?, 1879-09-03

| ~ ~ i''Soipic tuut SuCi tlCdIucIN
such betrayal of n, Ike ties OF
friendship and Election could be
, permitted /" rNisti
Theresa was. perhaps, of some
AHA icilous disposition. Certainly
E,n,~; had given her no cause for
, Ir"inuSy hitherto, as far as she
Smrw. hut she had always imagined
! II pu,>jOle that at some time or
other he would; and now it seemed
20 her as though her forebodings
'Iii been fulfilled.
Constance Brown had been her
earnest friend, her school fellow,
her one dear companion, for whom
her 7iirclloii conld never be dim.
med. And this friendship had con.
timed undated for whole two
years after her marriage to Ernest,
during which it had been her chief
delight to entertain Constance at
her own home. Now Ernest wasn't
ut the beginning, nj any rate, at all
fond of Constance, and use to think
her visits rather bore. Anything
was better, however. than having
his wife in the dolefuls, and on such
occasions he would suggest:
"Ask Constance to. come and
spend q few days.
AS time went on, however, little
disagreements intcrposed between
the two friends. Constance was OF
an adaptive nature, and fonder of
masculine than feminine society.
She profcsScd great interest in Ern.
est's pursuits, which were rather of
u miscellaneous character. Alto.
gether she grew in grace and favor
with the husband, and declined in
equal measure in the wifc's esteem.
She was too keen witted herself
not tn perceive this, but the incrad.
icablc love of conluetry and mis-
chief that turks in every female
bosom forbade her to change her
tactics.
The end of it was n desperate
quarrel between Constance and
Theresa, and Constance's hasty de.
parture from Shrublands in great
rage. On her part. Theresa vowed
that she would never have that de.
ccitful girl in her house again.
"All right" Ernest had said, "if
you don't care about it, don't"
But Theresa's jealousy, once
aroused, was not TO be quoted by
any such pretences as these. 1t
was all very well for Ernest to say
so, but his saying so did not de-
ccivc her. Having once thrown her
influence over Ernest, Constance,
she knew, would not be satisfied to
resign her power so easily. She
didn't doubt but that Constance
would III some way or other con.
trive some way to see him, and this
mornings paper had given her Il
clcw TO the means she adopted.
Very well. Theresa, too, would
be ut Victoria at II noon.
The carriage had just returned
from taking Ernest to the station;
it would also convey her to the
next train for London. She would
have sufficient time to reach the
TWISTING place by noon.
Victoria station, however, is rath.
or wide. open place, not adapted
for concealmcnt. How should she
so disguise herself that she might
witness the meeting unobserved:
Then she remembered that her Aunt
Blake. who had been a widow for a
couple of years, had left behind her
a widows cap, bonnet and veil,
having taken the opportunity of a
visit to her niece to resume the or
binary costume Of woman kind.
Bonnets are not formidable
things, nova days; and then There.
sa put her annt's weeds, with a
black Grape shawl. into travelling
bag. She put Oh black dress with
a white shawl over it, and her usual
travelling bonnet, that she might
not give rise to surmises at her sud.
den assumption of mourning, and
then started off.
The clock showed five minutes TO
twelve when she arrived at Veto.
ria. She hurried off 10 the ladies'
waiting room, donned her bonnet,
cap, shawl and veil, and came out
upon the platform demurc widow.
Sure enough, Ernest was there,
walking up and down. She gave a
kind of guilty start as he passed
her, and he looked rather hard at
the young widow with the nice trim
fignre.
$50" she thought, "that is the
way You look at young women when
| am not byiH
The next turn that she took she
started as she saw approaching her
from the opposite side of the plat.
form the very double of herself.