The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1886-11-25
"Sir Richard Fcllowese'' was all

a-",""o" A'S SAcoS railway An0 10
Thlbet; and hos just been stopping
at Osborne. Is it possible you've
never heard his namcp Why, he was
one OF the lions of last season, young,
rich and the fashion. I'm lucky to
got him here, even for q flying visit;
but my husband and he are old
friends. and he is wonderfully fond of
the children. Can it be that YOU
have never heard OF him, really?"
IL met hlm some years ago."
Stella managed to falter.
Gladly would Stella have hidden her.
self in her distant school room that
night and pleaded neuralgia or any 9TH
or synonym for broken heart rather
than enter the crowded drawing room.
whence the soft flow of voices and
laughter 1oated out from the open win
dows over to her own room in the wing.
But Mrs. Boucher had told her that
they would want some singing. and
govcrncsses must not indulge their feel
ings when other peoples entertainment
is at stake.
Stella's heart seemed beating in her
ears as she entered tho great drawing
room behind tray of coffee cups and
hid herself in a sheltered nook near the
piano.
At first she could sec nothing clearly,
the rose shaded lamps threw so dim a
light; then she grew aware of a group
OF smiling, interested people, all bestow-
ing their most gracious smiles and at
tcntions to tall figure in their midst.
Could that be Dick Fellowes-that broad
shouldered man with the brown mus
tache and close cropped, curly head.
who moved and spoke like man conf
dent OF his own powers and used to
Succeed and please? Stella thought of
the ill-htting garments of old days as
she noticed the shapcly cut of his coat
collar and the grace of sclf-posscssion
in his every movement Dick had red
hands and big boots and suggested a
bull in a china shop. Was there some
mistake after all?
A moment and then he raised his
head and she caught the old merry
smile and the flash of the quick, gray
eyes; and half blinded and bewildered
with a rush of rccollections, Stella
made her way to the piano in obedience
to Mrs. Boucher's smile and nod.
Why had Mrs. Boucher asked her to
sing Golden Days?' 1t was Dicks
favorite song long ago, and Stella felt
as if it would choke her. Her voice
shook so that Mrs. Boucher's guests
thought their hostess had a good deal
overpraised her governess' style, and a
Miss Verney near by remarked to Sir
Richard Fellowes that she did not ad-
lnire that tremolo kind of manner so
many girls affected.
AS she rose from the piano stool her
eyes met those of Sir Richard, who
was standing close to the piano. There
was nothing beyond the most casual
recognition in the slight bow on both
sides. and Stella got away somehow to
her own quarters to find vent for the
passionate flow of tears that overcame
all her self control.
The next day was to be the grand
garden party. Miss Howard was sup
posed to be unostentatiously in the
background. dressed in her best, to keep
q supervision over her little pupils.
Ethel and Maud, wild with delight,
fastened her out to the tennis lawn long
before any one could possibly be ex-
pccted to arrive.
"Just one little game before the peo-
pie come to the grounds, Miss Howard.
You know we may not play when all
the grown up people arc here, and we
do so want little, tiny game" begged
the children.
Miss Howard, mindful of her best
cream gown and the difficulties of ten
mis- when combined with long gloves
and plumed hat, vainly endeavorcd to
escape.
only little scrap of play. All!
you know you can't refuse" they said.
And Stella was forced to laugh and
yield to their entreaties.
So that was the picture that met the
eyes of the idle gentleman who saun-
tered down the shrubbcry path. among
the fragrant syringas, and turned the
corner of the terrace steps-a girl's
figure in creamy gown, vivid in the
hot sun against the trees and shrubbery;
a shade hat which threw into relief the
crisp, bronze hair and the soft flush on
her cheek, a racquet poised aloft, and 4
flutter of white-winged pigeons toward
the dark blue sky. He stopped short,
as if spellbound.
''Oh, sir, Richie, you're Just in time!
Come along and have game with Miss
Howard-do, do!' cried the children.
Stella turned with a violent start;
the racquet slipped from her gloved
hand and struck her left wrist 4 vio-
lent blow. The pain turned her faint
and giddy and she felt herself grow
white to the very lips.
ssNN M vnnnr 1uor,nn - che hno ~
the voice that was so like, yet 50 I'M
like, the voice of other days say: ''Miss
Howard won't play with me-she never
would"
Then he turned to her with sudden
change from the laughing tone:
'Have you hurt your: armP I am
afraid startled your and he came for
ward hastily.
But Stella drew away as he an
preached.
'Nothing-it is nothing; pray don't
trouble me-" she said, almost GROSSLY.
And as stream of gayly dressed
people emerged from the conservatory
and began to spread themselves over
the terrace and approach the lawn
Stella turned and fled into the shrub
berry.
She had reached the fountain by the
statue of the dancing faun before she
was overtaken.
pardon me-" said her pursuer, in a
tone that was certainly not Dick's-it
was too commanding. II do not want
to contradict you, but can't believe it
is nothing"
And in another moment the little
bruised wrist, from which he had
stripped the glove, was in Sir Richard 8
firm, light grasp, and Stella meekly
surrendered.
"Sit down here" was the order, and
she found herself placed on the messy
step of the old fountain, while with
quick, deft fingers Sir Richard dipped
his handkerchief in the cool, clear
water, and bound it round the slender
wrist.
Could it be Dick? Was it not all q
hooking dream? Stella could only
hope with all her might that the