The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1883-11-24

'Dned at the ST. ElmOS. .OIuplu audll
and intolerably hot, and no one worth speak
ing TO-"
miss Elliott was not thereF' This in q
careless little tone of inquiry.
mo. 1 took in one of the girls OF the
house. who had not two words to say for her
selt.n
And so left the field open for your elO-
quence! Come, Reggie, don't be cross; take
some more Strawberries l want you to
amuse me now you are here. Where did
you go afterward?"
ITO couple of stupid Enthusiastically a
barbarous institution in this weather Lady
Hetherington's rooms were tolerably cool,
however,"
And you enjoy yourself there? It is
hardly like you to honor an evening rout
when there is no dancing-unless some spe-
cial attraction tempted you"
And how could that be when you were
at Twickenham?'
"Well meant, my friend, but hardly so
gracefully expressed as L should have ex-
pected from you. Queenie, darling, run in
and ask why they dont bring tea"
Here it comes-and-confoun it, an
other visitor. Why cannot that butler of
yours learn discretion"'
Because 1 prefer to exercise my own"
replies Mrs Fairfax. And the little figure
is drawn up, and the baby-face takes an ex-
preston for a moment which warns Vane he
has gone too far.
"Who would have thought" he murmurs
into his beard, chat the little pussy cat could
show such claws?'
Meanwhile Mrs Fairfax has risen and
moved forward to receive her new guest.
The servant mumbles a name which she does
not catch, and she lifts her pretty appealing
eyes in some perplexity to the strangers
face
Something she reads in that grave bronzed
ron hat brin hack
recalling a time long passed away, before
poor Jack Fairfax won her with his hasty,
impetuous tale of love-before she had, as 1t
were, leapt suddenly from childhood into
the glare and excitement of sT2led beauty's
life. Nor is the dream dispelled when the
visitor speaks, unconsciously softening his
deep tones with the genteness he would
have used in addressing a child
You have forgotten Inc. Mrs. Fairfax? l
do not wonder-it is years since we met
and"
mo, no." she suddenly cried, with a joy
Gus clap of her hands. you are Captain
Grahame-my playfelow of long ago. l re-
member you quite well now; but so much
has happened since those days"
II know" he answers gently, wondering
whether the shadow in her blue eyes is
caused by Jacks memory, or-as he looks at
the handsome young fellow so evidently at
home in this garden-by Jacks chosen sue
cessor. And then the two men glare at one
another, after the fashion common to En-
glishmen when they meet for the first time,
and are uncertain whether to be on friendly
terms or fly at each others Threats.
Sir Reginald Vane-Captain-no, it is
Colonel now, surely? l thought so-Cononel
Grahame." And while stiff bow is ex-
changed she proceeds to pour out the tea.
Vane renews his attentions to Queenie
but she, from some perverse instinct of
coquetry, bestows all her favors upon the
Colonel, whose grave aspect would hardly
prove attractive to children in general. Yet it
melts into kindly smile as, lifting the lit
tie one on his knee, he glauces from her face
to that of the mother. older only by some
eighteen years, and recalls the days when
Nina Forester had sat as confiding on the
knee of the shy young cornet.
"You will let me scull you up the river
Mrs. FairfaxP' says Vane, he puts down
his teacup. II have not forgotten (here his
yy22bSssa f2ksf 60 tsHaeT our last
Mrs. Fairfax looks doubtfully toward her
other guest, who somewhat stiffiy observes:
Don't let me be any hindrance to your
plans. Or perhaps you will allow me to take
an oar in your servce?"
Vanes face darkens, but the widow claps
her hands and answers gayly: Capital! 1t
would really have been hard work for one
alone in this heat"
So Queenie runs to fetch her mothers hat,
Int at the last moment finds the charms of a
favorite kitten society irresistible, and elects
to remain on terra firma herself
Vane pulls stroke, and the boat glides
smoothly away from the emerald bank and
out into the CLASSY expanse of water, amid
scores of Others gayly laden with similar
freie hit. and looking as if playing their part
in some holiday scene.
''This has been very hard on me" MUIR
murs Vane, bending forward, so that his
words are audible to the fair steerer only.
INV pleasant afternoon all spoiled be-
cause"
Because you are a FOOLISH self-willed
bow" answers the little woman, who, albeit
some four years his junior, sometimes likes
to play at maternal airs. Come, shake off
your fit OF blues, be agreeable, and stay and
dine with u.s."
with u.s. Are you going" Every low,) Ito
invite that fellow, too?
Certainly am He is one of my very
oldest friends"-( ''old enough" grumbles
Vane)-"and have not seen him for years.
We have heaps of things to say to one an
other"
"Then you will certainly get through them
better uninterrupted" says Sir Reginald, in
awfully sorry, Mrs. Fairfax, but 1 have just
remembered that have to dine out tonight.
am afraid l must ask you to land me at
Surhiton, so that | can get home by train.
Steer more to the right, please you are run
ming us into that barge"
WHAT! are you growing nervous? and
again that sweet, clear voice rings out, and
Vane grinds his teeth as he feels rather than
sees that grim smile is overspreading the
face behind him.
When Surbiton is reached at length, he
scarcely attempts to disguise his relief as he
springs ashore.
"Good-byel Many thanks, Mrs. Fairfax.
may come over again soon%'
IF you like-only it is best to give me
notice beforehand as [ might be in London
for the day. But, yes''-softening as his face
falls-"come when you like. Any day this
week"
The Colonel's heavy mustach has sustained
sundry pulls during the colloquy, and his
face is shade graver than usual as he steps
into the vacant seat and possesses himself of
both oars. AS with a few vigorous strokes
the boat is once more in motion, the widows
~ Il TO No. ,,1I