The Warner weekly sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1885, 1884-06-06
OUT OF PITY.

J oaO L1hlClAlDClOA
ever coming to reign at Arntown Towers ;
the sweetest dantiest littl Lady Fielding
that the country had eyer welcomed.
To herself it was like a dream, it had
come so fast it seemed as if all her life
had lived itself in those six months the
leaving her English school and going
out to her fathers plantation in Ceylon,
so proud to be his housekeeper and COM
panion the strange brief life on the up
country coffee estate. Then the young
English stranger who passed through
Lindoola, in his rather vague wander
ings for adventures sake, and who was
received at Holme Harcourt with the
delightful open handed hospitality of
the colonies.
And then the awful night when the
sudden terrible stroke of cholera left
her fatherless, and life seemed a great
black void; and the chaplain's wife had
been good to her, andkepth her from dy-
ing in despair; and Sir Harry Fielding
had been still more good; and then
and then-she was resting her poor
little orphaned head on a heart that was
kind and true as her own fathers anda
strong arm was close around her slender
waist, and the voice she liked alone to
hear, of all the voices around her, was
Nol1iaoe haa cha chA1,11 ave 1-1- -
other sorrow he could guard her from.
He seemed the only real thing in all
that dream-time; the sad past, and the
present that was SO happy, but just as
unlike reality. VAST really herself
simply little Nesta Harcourt, that peo-
pie were fussing over and petting and
welcoming home as if she
had been a royal princess?
Perhaps it was as well she could not
realize it, or her head might have been
turned. Why, had not the whole week
Harry and she were spending with her
sister, Mrs. Mostyn, to present Nesta to
the countryside, been one round of fes-
~tivities, of which she was the queen?
This evening they had all driven to a
grand concert in the country town to
hear a famous singer; and Nesta, In her
wonderful golden satin gown, rich with
embroidery and lace, with her eyes out
shining the diamonds on her white neck,
and her cheek flushed with its pretty
shy pink, had been an attraction only
second to the queen of song herself.
She felt a little weary with the excite
ment and the happiness, now that they
had reached home and were having sup
per in the great hall. for the concert
had forced them to dine rather earlier
than usual.
The house was crowded with guests,
and they were all vehemently declaring
that night was hardly begun yet, and
they meant to finish it with a few games.
The furniture In the blue drawing-room
was beirg hatsily moved, and Nesta's
heart sank at the thought Of further TX
ertion, her head ached and she was
worn out. She would slip away quietly
to bed, and leave Harry to make
her excuses to Eleanor. Where was
Harry, by the way? She had not seen
him since they sat down to supper, and
he and that beautiful Miss Tafford we're
talking in the doorway. A hasty serch
through the nearest rooms had no re-
suit, and Nesta stopped by an open door
to glance in at the half cleared drawing
room.
Two portly dowagers were deep in
conversation, their heads bent together
behind their fans; but their voices rose
above the music Eleanor was playing,
and Nesta could not help hearing what
they said.
GLADYS Trafford: yes, indeed! cried
the black velvet gown to the purple
brocade. "a very, very old love affair
that, my dear. He and she were per-
fectly inseparable, and q most suitable
match it would have been. The two
Oldest families in the country his equal
in position and fortune. Lord Stour-
bridges estates are next his you know,
and Gladys is heiress toa great part.
What made Nesta's heart give such a
leap, and her feet felt spell-bound to
the spot where she stood? Arnwood
Towers was the only place NEAR the
Traffords. It was as If her whole being
were strained to hear the rest; she
never thought of caves dropping, poor
child, it was life and death work with
her. $.
"And why didn't il some about
asked the purple brocade.
Heaven knows Al lovers TIN lsup-
pose. or: some such rubbish. II is q
thousand pities! a Lady Fielding has
always been at the head Of the country
society. and GLADYS Trafford is just