, 1888-04-13
THE BLACK STOCKINGS.

shoulder 10 shoulder we mad marched
many a long mile under the baking
African sun, and when Jack succumbed
to fever and died, there was not a dry
eye in the regiment.
Larry, old man." he said to me,
watching, through the opening in our
tent, the last sunset his mortal eyes were
to look upon, 81 can trust you to give
these trinkets to my sister Mora, can't /?
h will prize them. She always had a
tender spot in her heart for her good for
nothing brother. Poor child she will be
alone now-quite alone. A risky fate
for a pretty girl of 20. Dysart has writ
ten to her, telling you would hand over
the little traps; all l have to leave. He
will be to he fore if anything goes
wrong; but Dysart is not Well,
never mind. My little Mora-Larry, l
wish"--
The sentence was never finished, and
the voice which, with its merry ring, had
given courage and hope to many a faint
ing heart of late, sank into eternal
silence.
Reverently l took charge of the poor
boys legacy to his sister, his medals and
crosses, won at peril of his life, and soon
afterward fate led me back to Europe.
Jacks sister was in Paris, and thither
/ was eager to betake myself with all
possible speed, to resign my charge, and,
if possible, on the strength of my init
macy with Jack. to win a place in his
sisters regard.
If a fellow can fall in love with a pho
tograph and a glowing description, l,
thanks to poor Jacks affectionate elo-
quence, was in love with Mora MoncriefT.
l believed that my comrades half uttered
wish when dying was that l might win
the right to protect Mora. But, then,
there was Dysart. Who was Dysart,
anyway Clearly l had better remove
all uncertainty upon this point as soon as
possible.
Arrived at Marseilles, 1 found a letter
from my aunt, Mrs. Carriston, begging
me to visit her for a few days at Men
tone, as she had an important matter to
discuss with me. This invitation, inter-
fering as it did with my desire to seek
out Mora at once, was most unwelcome;
particularly as l strongly suspected the
reason of my aunt's ardent wish to see
me. She had doubtless been playing a
little too recklessly at Monte Carlo-the
love of gambling being a long established
infirmity with her-and wanted me to
help her out of a tight place. Well, one
| BOOh bulh htbti 70 dilOLlltl III my DEtdu
and jam days many a half sovereign has
found its way from Aunt Carriston's
purse to my jacket ~pocket-why should
l not put a cheerful face upon the matter
and befriend her now2-though / de-
voutly wished the had come at
any other time.
Accustomed as 1 had been of late to
the very light attire of African ladies on
their native soil, my aunt's toilet and APP
pearance struck me forcibly. She was a
handsome woman, perfectly awar of the
fact, and the rustling, tinkling and faint
odor of p%atchouli which accompanied her
movements attracted an attention which
was not, on the whole, ill paid for the
trouble it took to look. She wore her
silky white hair high above her still fair
forehead; some soft tinted shawl hung
usually about her silken shoulders in a
loose, picturesque fashion; a glittering
p~rofusion of costly rings detracted from
the beauty of her hands, and pendant
from her waist dangled a bewildering ar
ray of ornaments, mostly of considerable
value-a velvet bag with massive silver
clasps, embossed and jewel studded scent
bottles, and a chatelaine 30 loaded down
with trinkets that it was as if she had
dragged a silver graphing hook across a
jewelers. counter, retaining all the mis-
cellaneous haul.
1 thought this display vulgar in the ex-
treme, but contented myself with ex-
pressing a fear that she might be robbed
come fine day IN one of her walks abroad,
as she persisted in wearing all this war
paint indoors and out.
Don't be a fussy old granny before
your time, Larry, dear" was all the
thanks 1 got for my solicitude. II
haven't lived ten years on the Riviera for
nothing''-she had not, as her losses at
Monte Carlo could testify-"and I'm
quite able to take care of myself and my
property. We have, fortunately, outlived
the days of highway robberies upon pub
lie thoroughfares."
My aunt had known Jack Moncrieff' 3
family in past years, and was deeply
interested in my mission to Paris. Very
reluctantly, to satisfy her almost childish
pleading, l showed her Jacks souvenirs,
placed in my hands in trust for his sister.
1t seemed a sacrilege to produce them in
such al atmosphere. My annoyance was
extreme when Aunt Carriston begged to
be allowed the custody of these v~aluables
until evening, as she particularly desired
to show them to a friend. l refused at
first, but her voluble pleading at last
made me weakly give in.
A few hours later, as l was particu-
larry distinguishing myself over a game
of billiards, a fellow brought me a note
summoning me to the Hotel des Pal
miers, where my aunt lived, with all
possible speed.
Here found a pretty state of commo-
ton. Mrs. Carriston, my aunt, had been
attacked in the avenue and robbed, the
thief escaping with his plumber. AS soon
as l had as~certained that my respected
relative had come off without bodily
hurt, l could not repress an unworthy
feeling of inward triumph at my astute
prediction being so promptly and forcibly
verified, but l, of course, maintained a
discreet silence upon this point while lis
tening to the victims account of her
misfortune.
81 was returning to luncheon leisurely
enough" she began, ''when, on turning