The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1883-07-14

yet, Mis-" butler at once grasped the
situation-"Davis is gone to tell her now"
and he stood waiting while Captain Curzon
assumed an expectant air, that Miss Went
worth would lead so that he might follow.
Coffee or tea do you take?' Miss Went
worth was seated behind the urn; the servant
had left them together
Thanks; tea, if may trouble YOU"
| ga little"
"Sugar?'
Not any,"
"What may give YOU" 1t was Captain
Curzon's turn to make the offer,
| "A piece OF dry toast"
| Nothing more?'
| Yes q small piece of butter"
| And then silence, except for the ticking of
| the clock and the purr1g of the big cat
curled up in front of the fire.
| Five minutes passed; long enough, they
| both thought, to seem an hour.
| Vexed as she was Hatty felt an irresistible
desire to laugh-the effort to control herself
was almost painful. Captain Curzon who
was so seated that he could get perfect
| view of her face in an opposite glass, was
saying to himself, There is no denying that
this girl is remarkably good-looking." Sud
| denly she turned round struck with the Ger
tainty that he was watching hes y es, she
! had caught his eyes fixed in that direction
| but, equal to the emergency, Captain Curzon,
although inwardly vexed, showed no sign OF
chagrin. Il was thinking" he said, contem
| platively, chow very different face looks in
glass to the same face reflected in an urn"
And Hatty, turning her eyes straight before
her, saw countenance depressed and its
cheeks spread out until they seemed to cover
the whole circle of silver Try as she might
| her mouth would CULVER and in another in
| slant she had burst into an irresistible fit Of
| laughter.
The ice once broken, a thaw seemed to set
in and rOff bn txr-r oh Il
position to move, until Foster desired the
young footman to go in and attend to the
| fire, and bring out word what ON earth they
could be after.
Having first expressed much satisfaction
that the morning was so fine, and it would
be pleasant to sit quiet and undisturbed in
the garden, Hatty went up to her room.
Staring her in the face was the despair
ingly dowdy hat she had during her visit
adopted but instead of putting it on, and, as
hitherto, without a glance of herself walking
| away, she contemptuously flung 1t aside, and
diving into a drawer set apart for that pur-
pose, she produced most coquettish arrange
ment of straw, which having placed on her
head she surveyed with unfeigned satisfac-
ton. Then she drew over a chair, laid a
book on her knee, and, oddly enough,
opened big rose-lined parasol.
The effect was perfect; pretty morning
gown from underneath which foot neatly
CuduSSe was pom country straw nat
| the becoming shade from the parasol the
picture left nothing to be desired. And thus
armed for conquest, Miss Wentworth strolled
down into the garden.
Although standing close near the window,
it is barely presumable that Captain Curzon
caught sight of her, for he was busy DOMINIC
another coat-the one he wore was brute
| Everything but velvet was Objectionable.
Those rough tweed things gave such ruff
fan look to fellow. He could not think
| why he had brought one there. At that mo-
ment he had forgotten that he had said any
thing would do; what could it matter what
| he had on?
l II beg your pardon hadn't an idea that
| should find you here | hope l haven't dis
| turbed you?"
| Captain Curzon had unearthed the con-
| templative fair one, who had betaken her
self to small, nugly-arranged, out-of-sight
bower.
| Surely some knowledge of the habits of
the animal must have guided his instincts
| there
"Oh, no; not at all" having heard his
| footsteps the start she gave was not becons-
ing-"only seem to be driving you away"
That is very little matter. L was but
| looking for a seat where one might sit
undisturbed and quiet" and he sighed
| heavily.
II don't think, except this one, there is
another to be found here; that is why
chose it," and the sigh he had heaved was
echoed back by her. at is so unfortunate
that FANNY should have a headache" she
continued, noticing that he seemed disposed
to linger; "she had looked forward to devot-
ing every minute of the day to you"
| Poor Fanny, she's a dear good creature
and Pm awful fond of her; but you know
Miss Wentworth. she doesn't IN the least
understand one
Miss Wentworth smiled.
| y L. -, i. -
| believe me-"
"On the contrary I was just thinking
that that was exactly my experience Of
her. l don't blame her; she does not know
what it is to suffer- Fanny has been always
happy"
Just so, and because of that she thinks
/ one can forget at pleasure-that ones feel
| ings and affections are in ones own power?'
| Miss Wentworth's pretty little head wag-
ged itself in sympathy.
"Ab Captain Curzon," she murmured
softly, ''if such were the case, what differ
ent world this might be-"
And yet" he said, sternly, ''you women
| make it what it is"
THAT | deny emphatically; it is the men
| who are cruel, heartless, without the suspi-
cion of what the meaning of the word love
| is"
Captain Curzon held in his hand a cigar;
| he flung it from him with tragic gesture
| stepped into the power, ana with the air OF q
| man who has a mission to perform, sat him
self down on the little bench fronting Miss
| Wentworth's wicker-chair.
II shall not leave here" he said until
have convinced you; and perhaps the surest
way of pointing out your error is to confide
to you some of the misery that have been
lately made to endure"
II am quite willing to listen, but before
am made convert of, in my turn there is
| something you will have to hear from me-"
At Mrs. Rodneys the rule of the house was
to have luncheon at l o'clock, but had
struck before there was any sign of Captain
| Curzon and Miss Wentworth. Then they
came strolling in together. and sat at the ia
BILE so long that the butler remarked it would
be very soon time for dinner.
Mrs. Rodney, unable to bear the distress
| ing pain, had been Obliged to resort to a COM