The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1882-07-07

Portable kind of chrome photographic
mountain scenery, that l asked him il
he had an appointment with the Witch
of the Alps, or any of those sort OF PEG.
ple?''
One or two country visitors tried to
laugh, but couldn't; and the guests
from town only stared, as the young
man looked round the table. Ellinol
Dalton never took her eyes from his
face, but seemed to wait anxiously fol
any thing he might say next.
"Perhaps Margraye has been i'll. -
said the old BarOnet; ''he told me,
when he went to Switzerland, that he
was leaving England because he re-
quired change of air and scene"
"Ilr' said the Government clerk.
"Ah, to be sure; / never thought OF
that. He might have been i'll. 1t diff
ficult, sometimes, to draw the line be-
tween a guilty conscience and the liver
complaint. Perhaps it was only his
liver, after all. But you don't think, -
he said, appealingly, returning to his
original idea, '.you don't think he has
committed murder, and buried the
body in Verulam Buildings-do you?
That would account for his going to
Switzerland, you know; for he couldn't
possibly stop with the body-could
hep
You'd better ask him the question
yourself, Fred,' said Sir Lionel, laugh
ing; IF everybody had as good con-
science as Horace Margrave, the world
would be better stocked than it is with
honorable men. Horace is a noble heart
ed fellow; I've known him from boy.
He's glorious fellow"
"And a crack shot," said a young
military man, with his mouth full of but
tered toast and anchovy paste.
"And a first-rate billiard player
added his next neighbor, busy carving a
ham.
"And one of the cleverest men in the
law" said grave old gentleman, SEN
tentiously.
Extremely handsome" faltered one
young lady.
And then, how Accomplishment VEN
tured another.
''Then you don't think, really now,
that he has committed a murder, and
buried the body in his chambers?''
asked the Whitehall employe, putting
the question to the company general y.
In the dusk of that autumnal even
ing, Ellinor Dalton sat alone in a tiny
drawing room leading out of the great
saloon, which was long room, with
six windows, and two fire-places, and
with great many very Indifferent pict-
ures in extremely handsome frames.
This tiny drawing-room was favorite
retreat of Ellinor's. 1t was luxuriously
furnished, and it communicated, by a
half-glass door shrouded by heavy
amber damask curtains, with a large
conservatory, which opened on the
terrace walk that ran along one side of
the house. Here she sat in the dusky
light, pensive and thoughtful, on the
evening after her husbands departure.
The gentlemen were all in the billiard
room, hard at work with the balls and
cues, trying to settle some disputed
wager before the half-hour bell rang
to summon them to their dressing
rooms. The ladies were already at their
earlier than usual, was quite alone. 1t
was too dark for her to read or work,
and she was too weary and istless to
ring for lamps; SO she sat with her
hands lying idly in her lap, bordering
upon what had been said at the break
fast table of her sometime guardian,
Horace Margrave.
Suddenly a footstep behind her, fall
ing softly on the thick carpet. reused
her from her reverie, and she looked I'D
with a startled glance at the glass over
the low chimney-piece.
In the dim freight she saw, reflected
in the shadowy depths of the mirror,
the haggard and altered face of her
guardian, Horace Margrave.
He wore a loose, heavy great-coat,
and had his hat in his hand. He had
evidently only just arrived.
He drew back on seeing Ellinor; but,
as she turned round to speak to him,
the freight behind her left her face in
the shadow, and he did not recognize
her.
~ beg your pardon" he said, ''for
disturbing you. l have been looking
everywhere for Sir Lionel"
Mr.. Margrave! Don't you know me?
1t is I-Ellinor!'
His hat fell from his slender hand,
and he leaned against high-back easy
chair for support.
Ellinor-Mrs. Dalton-you here!
you were in Paris, or l
should never-that is-r'--
For the first time in her life Ellinor
Dalton saw Horace Margrave so agitated
that the stony mask Of elegant indiifer-
ence and gentlemanly sang troid, which
he ordinarily wore, entirely dropped
away, and left him-himself.
"Mr. Margrave," she said, anxiously,
"you are annoyed at seeing me here.
Oh, how altered you are! They were
right in what they said this morning.
You are, indeed, altered. You must have
been very ill.,
Horace Margrave was himself again
by this time. He picked up his hat,
and, dropping lazily into the easy-chair,
said:
"Yes; have had rather a severe at
Observation-Disclosures. The doctors,
in fact, were so puzzled as to what they
should call my illness that they actually