Weekly commercial herald. (Vicksburg, Miss.) 1884-18??, 1885-08-14
CHAPTER XVIII.
II CANNOT LIVE THIS LIFElu

noble StaLueS, palaces old and neY, libraries,
museums, art galleries, and fast feeting
reputation for cheap living. Munich, which
stands boldly out on a barren plain, no
doubt feeling it has little which 1t need be
ashamed to show to the world, except per-
haps the vagaries Of the eccentric being, its
king.
Beatrice never quite knew what induced
her to choose the capital of Bavaria for her
resting place. Honestly, when she wrote
from London to her uncles, she had not set.
tied whittier to wend her way. She might
then just as likely have gone to Paris, Brus-
sells, Vienna or Berlin as to Munich.
She fixed on Germany for various reasons.
She had that feeling, which justly or I'M
justly, is common to most English people.
that an unprotected and not unattractive
woman is more free from annoyance in a
German than in a French town. She also
faneied she knew the German language bet
ter than she knew French. The scientific
severity OF the great Teutonic tongue had
always charmed her. She had studied it
deeply. She could read it in its classic forms
with a certain amount of facility. She be-
lieved she could speak it well enough for the
purposes Of ordinary conversation. Alasl she
was but one Of the many who, when gut
turals, compound words and divisible par
ticiples are flying about like hail, find what
a fraud is the boosted phonetic spelling, and
what an age it takes to feel at ones ease
amid the elephantine gambols of the IN
wleldY language. Nevertheless, for the
above and other reasons she chose Germany.
AS the party had left Blacktown provided
with no travelling i~ndispensables, except the
most important of all, money, many pur-
chases had to be made in London. Ali were.
however, made in time to catch the evening
train to Dover, and that night Beatrice and
her charges crossed the channel. Then it
seemed to her she was oncs mora able to
breathe. In London she had been haunted
by the dread that Hervey would follow and
find her. Once out of England she felt safe
Be it understood that Beatrice was no
| flying from the shame which a revelation o
her foolish marriage and subsequent act O
deception would entail; although she would
willingly have paid a large yearly sum, 81
long as her husband left her in peace ant
kept the secret. Gladly would she hav
made some arrangement which would spar
her pride the modification of her beins
known as the wife Of a felor Gladly woult
she have done all in her power to save he
father, her uncles, and such friends as sh
had, the pain they must feel when all wa
revealed. Yet 1t was not on this accoun
she fed. Her one aim was to save the chile
from the man who was his father.
She believed he could legally claim hel
boy. She knew he was villain enough tt
take him by force or fraud if the chance oc
CURED. The moment Harry was in Hervey'
hands she saw she would be at his mercy
She would be forced to submit to any con
d%itions, however exacting and h~umiliating
in order to regain possession Of the one thin
which was left her, the one thing she coul
love, or was permitted to love. Flight CAV
her q respite; gave her time for considers
tion. 1t was the simplest and easiest wa
out Of the difficulty. So she decided upon 4
Once out Of England they Travelled b
easy stages, and eventually reached thei
Observation-Disclosures. The city on inspef
ton seemed as suited as any other to Bes
trice's needs, so she hired a furnished fla
engaged a goo1-tempered, handy Bavaria
servant, and settled down to that quie-
calm life which she had in her letters to ii
Talberts described herself as living.
These letters were sent under cover to
friend of Mrs. Miller's, who posted them i
London. As English stationery can be pr
cured on the continent as easily as ever
thing else that is English, the letAGs cor
veyed no information which could be use
to discover the retreat. Beatrice dreade
sending them; she feared that some unfor
seen slip connected with them might di
close her abode. But it seemed so unkir
not to let her uncles know she was alive an
well. She did not write to her father. 81
fancied her proceedings would not troub
him much, and felt sure that any letter sci
to him would run the gauntlet of Lad
Clauson's unkind comments. She trusted
Horace and Herbert to let him know all th,
they knew.
Beatrice made few, if any, chance a,
quaintancsS Some people never do. Jus
as there are men whom other man new
think Of asking for a cigar light, so are the
women to whom other women do not NAL
the first advances. Beatrice, with her r.
! served but polite manner, classical featur,
and distinguished bearing, no doubt CO.
veyed the idea that she was a state not to
~encroached upon without the passport Of q
introduction.
So for society she had her boy and b
faithful slave, Mrs. Miller.
However much a mother NAV love b
child, she is not blamed if she finds that h
constant company does not give all d
pleasure the world can give. Howev
faithful and intelligent a servant may b
lie mistress may with a clear conscien
look beyond her for a companion.
So Beatrice's life grew once more dism
and ~colorless. So much so that under i
present conditions the late life at Hail
wood House, when contrasted with
seemed a wild round of variety and dissip
t ton.
She had her books and her music, but 81
t had no n with whom to discuss the book
9 no one to listen to her music. She took lie
$ sons in painting from n Of the thousal
artists in the great art center, Munich, b
4 this was but an aid to kill time, and unbr
ken with any ambitious aim. She had h
a thoughts. These she Stunned as much
u possible. It seemed to her that there W
a nothing upon which she could look bet
with pleasure, nothing to which she cou
look forward with hope. She often recallt
Carruthers' assertion that in spite Of mann
i she must have some dream of happiness, al
Q she sighed as she thought that now less this
t ever did life show any joy Of which she eve
dared to dream.
Beatrice was sitting one afternoon in Il
room she called her studio She was alor