The Pickens sentinel. [volume] (Pickens, S.C.) 1871-1903, 1886-11-25
said, laughing. 81 was born there
fifty years ago"
. The man laughed.

% Sttlu, ulSulllS. Il WIS poth phSi'
fifty years ago"
The man laughed.
"You're dry one," he said, tipping
his hat; "you don't look to DO thirty.
"I'm glad Ludovic has taken u fancy
to you," he said, sinking back i'll his
seat; ''somctimcs he dislikes people, and
it's hard for us ALL
l. looked ut him in surprise. Mr.. At
kinson's manner to his employees at the
factory was peremptory in the extreme
too much so, l had thought What had
wrought this softness?
Isnt what's his numc q ser,ant?"
Mr.. Atkinson started as if afraid that
some ono would hear him. 'Oh, we
don't toll1 of him that way. He's the
butler, you know. He docs pretty much
what he pleascs, though. Sometimes he
wants to drive, and Of course [ let him.
Mrs Atkinson imported him. lie is
very expensive, but he keeps us to the
mark, you know. He knows everything
that we don't know. Between ourselves,
J. wish was dead. Pm not fiv for this
sort otth1nS. ] nearly disgJ accd my
sell yesterday when VIC had Ex-Governor
JlmJams to dine with lis by asking for
beer with the soup. Mary Alrn-Mrs.
AtkinSon-would have tainted il Ludovic
had not brought the sherry and pre-
tended not to havo understood me.
home! Mr. Atkinson called out, as
ludOvic climbed on to the boz.
"Ics," my old friend continued,
! "lIudovic is great treasure" He said
this III the tone in which one speaks of
Dclng resigned to an atlliction. "Lord
Bcntham had him and he has big Gre.
dentlals. Mrs. Atkinson's afraid of
losing him" Here the rich mfn
chucklcd. It's about the only thing she
IS afraid OF. [ sometimes think that
when the girls arc married-but, by
George! | hate to think of that-wc'il
Dtc Dc able to forget our duties to society.
lMcnes and social status arc awful respon-
siDilltlrS. Hc frowned gloomily.
nComc, let's have drink. Stop at
IaIklnS, " he called out.
!, A'lcrc was sound of grunbling on
the Don. The carriage stopped We
were on the road that runs alone the,
iotomac on the District Of Columbia.
"iue, and the river seemed in the
twilight like sword Of silver hung in
the dark nothiDgncss around, for the
moon $honc through cloud rift on the
river.
,Ludovics crusty accents broke the
silence.
''Faith, Mr.. Atkinson, You're not
tllnklnG OF giving the gentleman one Of
A'arkln's punches made with American
WilSkey: The Irish gentlcmun's not
used to it, and you'll only be iemeaning
yourself and me by offering him the
nike Ludovic,s face could noy he seen
III the darkness, but his voice was IN
compromising. 'Lord Bentntan, that
owned the Lakes of Killarney, said to
me ut our last parting, Me faithful
man, SAID he, whatever ye do in Amcri-
ca, never put hot wather in their whis-
key. And Parkins' isn't fit place for
the likes OF MIR. Fitzpatrick, whatever
You may think, sir, that hasn't the ad-
van1ta9c-surc, It's not your fault, sir
or Knowing the real stuff, NIany's tho
time I've stopped at Parkins' AGAINST me
WILL and ] wouldn't have Lord Bentman
know for the world that | habitually
1requcnted tavern where American
Whlskey was made into hot punch. If
yell wait, I'll brew bowl with me own
hands, OF the real stuff, when VIC get
home"
"Atl right, said Mr.. Atkinson, meek
~. Ludovic disappeared, and the car
rage moved on at rattling pace.
'LlldOVlc IS queer sometimes"
every" said
put hes taken fancy to you. 1t
would drive Mrs. Atkinson mad-nctuaI-
~ mnd-to have him leave, now that
we're expecting Sir Boyle Roche
"Who's Sir Boyle Rocho?"
"oh, Il young Irish baronct, whose
rents have been pre- cmptcd by the home
rulers, and he's over here. Clara met
him III town, and he and she rather like
each other. Mrs. Atkinson's set on tho
match. No, no, please don't smoke;
l'udoVlc doesn't like it; it scents the
cushions"
What next? / thought.
Clarissa and Jennie looked very pretty
ut dinner under the pink glow Of tho
candle shades. Their white gowns, Just
touched with aglow that bon silence roses
gives, fitted them to perfection. l took
MIS-. Atkinson, busting in red satin, into
the dining room. There was no other
guest. Sir Boyle Roche was not to come
Tor week, and the Marquis dc CrGvc-
Commont of the French Legation had a
previous engagement. LrldOVic in livery
performed his duties sOlcmnly and man
aged the other servants with extreme
haughtincss.
SJ VII SooD'Jlc IhcLt lCOtl, llC Wills
pcrcd behind my chair. "Thcre's no
teaching them not to do that. Tho old
mans regular race horse for holting his
victuals'
Clarissa has improved. She WAS simple
and unruillcd. But Jennie has become in
sutterablc. Counts and countcsscs, lords
and ladies, tioated backward and forward
between her mother and her. The CONVEX
satlon had such IN excessively nristoor.tic
| flavor that Mr.. Atkinson's "Reminiscences,
apropos Of the purch, about the way his
father started in thejunk business, had the
effect OF chill, which Mrs. Atkinson par
TALLY removed by asking for the prairie
chickens which "Captain Cavcndiah, her
AlaJesty's guards, travelling in the States, /"
had sent.
"Ihey were spoiled, ma'am, said Lu-
dovic, shortly.
No more was said, although Mr.. Atkin-
son opened his mouth as if to express in
crcduHty.
When Ludovic had left the room Mrs.
Atkinson looked severely toward her