The Arkansaw traveler., 1886-01-16
arms, almost smothering her with kisses.


 "Poor little girl" says Fife, pityingly. She must have some one to lavish her wealth of love upon and l suppose l must submit tamely to your caresses, as they are these you would have given your husband had be come. Say, Lily" she continues, as they enter the drawing room, "what is the saddest thing in life ?"
 "I don't know"
 "A young wife without her husband" i"
 ooh. you wicked girl," laughs Lily.
 "Well you may laugh at love and have all the fun you want joking me, but MT. Cupid will put an arrow through your heart some day."
 "Oh, predict not such direful calamity AS for my making fun, was never more serious in my life"
 "Well, then, sing me something" as with one accord they go towards the piano.
 "And what shall it be, Come Back Douglas,' or T Love My Love"" asks Fife, gravelv.
 "Oh, those are not half expressive enough" says Lily, imbued with some of Efie's own spirit, give me something sentimental, like Three Black Crows, or What Jolly Dogs Are We,' something permeated with studied melancholy" :"
 "Really you go me one better to use retired phrase"
 Oh, how I wish the Duke was here l" exclaims Lily.
 "Ye gods what next2' cries Fife, holding her arms aloft in comical despair. |" have just brought her through trying seige of longing for her husband, and now she calls wildly for her brother. This is the most discouraging case have seen for some time."
 "Oh, Fife, will you do so;lething for mel"
 "Most gladly" in a relieved tone, "perhaps this is is not such severe at- tack after all" in stage aside.
 "No, but really2"
 "There's my hand"
 "Well, I want you to write to Duke. He is away up there among strangers, and so lonely"
 "I write to Duke 2" with wide open eyes.
 "Yes, it would do him SO much good :; just nice little friendly letter, you know. I received one from him this morning, and l want to read you an extract from it. Come into the library"
 After they have seated themselves cozily in the library, and Lily has found her letter, she reads:
 "'So your friend, Miss Rivers, is with you. How wish was there, too. From what you have told me about her at diff fereut times, I judge she is charming g girl. l am dying to see her, so tell her to take pity on a suffering mortal and write to me. That letter of hers to you, which you sent me to read, devoured eagerly, and it only makes me wish for more. l am dencedly lonesome here, and the pros- poets are that shall have to remain here all winter. Tell your friend if she wishes to perform an act of charity to write me-" Lily looks up inquiringly at Fife as she folds the letter, "you will write?" she asks.
 am always willing to make martyr of myself for the sake of others," says Fife, with absurd resignation, |" and shall deem it duty to respond to such a touching appeal"
 "Then you will" says Lily raptur ously, throwing her arms around her.
 "Yes," answers Fife, with a long drawn sigh. Bring me pen, ink and paper for cannot rest until the deed is done" She then dashes of the follow. ing:
 "YoUR GRACE: l have heard you were dying to see me, and, for aught l know. my lord, you may be dead by this time, and l may be addressing corpse. But if you are alive you will no doubt be rejoiced to hear from one who has long admired you at a distance. but could never get good look at you on account of the opaqueness of the atmosphere. When we become better acquainted should like to discuss the immensity of the stars with you, but on such sub iued acquaintance should not dare mention anything so personal. have horror of all things comprehensible, like to feel my way around subject expecting every moment to find pitfalls and stum- bling blocks in my way. hope you un- derstand me for there is nothing so har-