The Penn's Grove record., 1888-05-05

little thingl She twined about me like
a vine. Again that convulsive shudder.
You recognize the old routine-the
manner Of disposing OF such oasesp
My maiden aunt considered 1t scandal
Gus, but consented to chaperone my
protege. Into her hands l gave 70
beide for a year-stipulating that she
be taught all Christian graces. And
so l left her to tapestries, French
verbs, and the piano.
II confess l thought very little about
her. The only life between me and
my estates was severed by the death,
while hunting, of my cousin, the young
Earl of Favisham, and l was brought
to realize my position by my solicitor.
l could give my Wife a position which
would seem desirable in English eyes; l
entertained some e~xtravagant notions
about the new life at the hall and the
new Lady Favisham whom I would
introduce to my people. The most
dazzling beauty on the walls OF the
old picture gallery would. l felt. pale
beside the charms Of the last Lady
Harcourt, Countess of Favlsham.
"Yet how shall / describe my first
meeting with herp l heard her light
foot in the corridor. and the rustic of
her silken gown. The morning sun
shine flooded the room, the odor of roses
from their tall green vases for a
moment turned Inc faint. Was 1t a
fancy that the old musty incense Of the
jungle where the boa lies coiled entered
the room with her, emitted by her
white garments.
"She glided toward me, scarcely
making a sound, and my senses
seemed bound by spell.
There was no forbidding airs of
hauteur. She cOiled her arms about
me. and slid her dusky cheek along
until it lay against mine; yet 1t was
cool.
81 was very nearly overcome when
my aunt entered the room, bringing a
current OF fresh air with her. is she
not lovely, your little Indian savagep"
| pointing to Zobeide, who seemed to
drift-not walk-over the floor to the
piano, from which she evoked such
quaint minor chords that l begged her
to come and talk to me instead of play
ing.
"From that hour my soul passed out
OF my body to the keeping Of this girl.
She spoke to me c~aresslngly, soothingly,
as a child. When wearied of my crav-
ings for her kisses and caresses. she
would shut herself ny for hours in her
apartments, or would gallop away over
the downs on her black horse Selim,
an Arabian I had given her.
"We were married in London one
day, and began life in an irresponsible.
un-Engllsh way, as my aunt had said.
But we were always together. II we
gave no balls, that vas a mere matter
Of taste. 1 had once had a passion for
such diversions, but 1t had died in me,
as had most passions except for my
child-wife. Zobeide seemed to revel
In the county ball at first, and to gloat
on the homage and admiration she
received. But very soon she tired Of
that sort of thing, and even Of her
rides with Selim, the great splendid
rooms, the library and the picture gal
lery. the lakes, the swans, and the
elm shaded avenue, with snowy statues
cleaning ghostly in the moonlight.
"She had wearied of the homage of
men and the enylous amazement of
women, awe-struck by her beauty long
ago. She locked herself up more often
in her own wing, and always laughing.
ly refused to admit me. / cannot see
why l did not marvel at this, but this
vas no more strange than that 1 gave
up hunting, which had been a passion.
ate fancy Of mine before. My aunt
had laid her hand on my brow, saying:
"'How changed you are, Henryl'
"'Nonsensel' l replied. 1T is you
who are altered. Where is Zobeide?'
"'Always that question: she muir
INJURED In a tone of distress.
"Once she pulled me into her own
chamber, saying in a way calculated to
stareie me-but it did not
"'My dear boy 1 want to speak to
you. I must speak now with you.
Why do you allow Lady Favisham to
amuse herself daily with a brood of
| detestable snakes2'
"sDoes shep' I asked listlessly. "My
| good soul, why should l interfere If the
| child really does amuse herself. Don't
worry about Zobeide, dear; I don'tI'
"'No, poor boy. / wish you dIdp
"Strangel / passed the conversation
| off as If it had related to the flannels of
the rheumatic tenants. Yet ordinarily
l should have been paralyzed with hor.
ror at the idea Of my wife juggling
| with snakes. 1t sets my teeth on edge
now only to think of 1t, and 1t would
have made my hair stand on end had l
been in my right mind.
81 was insane all that horrible sum-
mer when q snake charner ruled at
Favlsham Hall, the seat Of a loyal and
hot-blooded rae of which l was the
last and least worthy.
"Yet any n that knew Lady Har-
court at that time would o have
wondered at her autocracy, I am sure,
| Even the servants were tInctured with
the poisonous atmosphere. and only my
aunt, who constantly vent abroad.
was able to shake off the leaden pail
which had settled down upon US at the
hall.
suddenly, in obedience to the
wishes of my physician, I made ready
to run over to my shooting box in
Scotland. 1 was stubbornly firm about
taking my wife with me, although she
demurred and even wept when | pre-
sented the tour to her. / carried INV
| point, and we were away Just ten days,
"Lady HarcOurt stipulated that her
wing Of the hall was to remain undis.
turbed during her absence. But she
expected fully to be back within a
week. My aunt had gone to Rugby.
~ will try and describe our coming
home as intelligeAtly as possible,
81 had noticed with wonderful ella.
ton that my head was clear and my
whole mind more coherent during our
absence, As If some terrible influence
had been wanting to sway and blacken
my life.
"On the contrary, my wife, although
so young and lovely. with all the world
to fall at her feet, seemed strangely i'll
at ease during u trip, and grew SO
nervous nearing home that she actually
leaped from the carriage as 1t drew up
before the hall. She had coiled herself
up In it without a word, although l
talked necessarily of the rains and the
hops.
"Perkins. the butler, gravely met
us, saying, Dinner awaits, my lerd,'
~ saataaI nan - ~ =