The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-03-27

after dinner, while Winnall the butler
anxious to get to his supper, ratified the
spoons on the sideboard, he tried to be-
| lieve it a dream. What, he wondered,
would Wlnnall say if he knew that master
had a ward and that ward play actress ?
or as Sudbury would prefer to style her,
painted Jezebel? And what would Mrs,
Yale say, who loved lavender and had
seen a ballet-once? Was archdeacon
ever, he asked himself, in position $3.50
anomalous before?
"My DEAR" his wife remarked, when he
had read his letters one morning, 81 am
sure you are not we'll have noticed
you have not been yourself since you
were in London"
Nonsense" he replied tartly.
at is not nonsense. There is some
thing preying on your mind. believe"
she persisted, sit is that visitation. Cyp-
rian, that is troubling you"
"Visitationl What visitation ?" he said
incautiously For, indeed, he had for
gotten ali about that very important busi-
ness, and could think only of visitation
more personal to himself. Before his
wife could hold up her hands in astonish-
ment. "What visitation, indeed !" he had
escaped into the open air. Mrs. Kent was
dead.
Yes, the blow had fallen; but the first
| shock over, things were made very easy
for him. He wrote TO his ward as soon
after the funeral as seemed decent, and
her answer greatly pleased him. Ready
as he was to scent misbehavior in the air,
he thought it proper letter, good girls
letter. She did not deny his right to give
advice. She had not, she said, seen the
gentleman he mentioned since her moth
er's death, although Mr. Charles Williams
that was his name-had called several
times; but sne had given him an appoint
ment for the following Tuesday, and was
willing that Mr.. Yale should see him on
that occasion.
All this in a formal and stately way
but there was something in the tone OF her
reference to Mr.. Williams which led the
archdeacon to smile sagely. "She is over
head and ears in love-" he thought. And
in his reply, after saying that he would
be in Sidmouth-st. on Tuesday at the hour
named, he added that if there appeared
to be nothing against Mr.. Charles Will
Jams he, the archdeacon, would have the
pleasure in forwarding his wards happi-
ness.
81 am going to London tomorrow, my
dear for two nights" he said to his wife
on the Sunday evening. II have some
business there"
Mrs. Yale sat silent for moment, as if
she had not heard. Then she laid down
her book and folded her hands. ICY
prian," she said, "what is it?"
The archdeacon was fussing with his
pile of sermons and did not turn. What
is what, my dear?" he asked.
"Why are you going to London~
"On business, my dear; business" he
said lightly.
Yes, but what business?" replied Mrs.
Yale, with decision. "Cyprian, you are
keeping something from me; you were
not used to have secrets from me. Tell
me what it is.
But he remained obstinately silent.
He would not tell lie, and he could not
tell the truth.
'Is it about Jack, Cyprian ?" with sud-
den conviction. ~ know what it is; he
4 has entangled himself with some girl"
The archdeacon laughed oddly. "You
ought to know your son better by this
time, my dear. He is about as likely to
entangle himself with a girl as-as am"
But Mrs. Yale shook her head uncon-
vinced. The archdeacon was a squire,
though poor one. 1t was his choicest
ambition, and his wife's, that Jack should
some day be rich enough to live at the
hall, instead of letting it, as Mr.. Yale
found it necessary to do. But while the
archdeacon considered that Jacks way
to the hall lay over the woolsack, his wife
had in view short cut to it through the
marriage market, being a woman, and so
thinking it a small sin in man 10 marry
| for money. Consequently she lived in fear
lest Jack should be entrapped by some
penniless fair one, and was not wholly re-
assured now. "Well, shall be sure to
find out, Cyprian." she said warningly,
''if you are deceiving me"
| And these words recurred disagreeably
| TO the archdeacOn's mind on his way to
! town and afterward. They rendered him
as sensitive as a mole in the sunshine.
| He found London almost intolerable. He
could not walk the streets without seeing
those horrid placards, nor take up news
paper without being stared out OF coun-
| tenance by the name ''Kittie Latouche,"
while his conscience so multiplied each
bill and poster and program that in
twenty-four hours London seemed to him
a great boarding of which his ward was
| the sole lessee.
Naturally he shrank into himself as he
| passed down Sidmouth-st. next day. He
| pOndered, standing on the steps of No. ii,
| what the neighbors thought of the house !;
whether they knew that "Kitty LatOuche"
| lived there. He was spared the giggling
and dirty plates on the stairs, but looking
round the room at the ten photographs,
and thinking what Mrs. Yale would say
| could she see him, he shuddered. He
! picked up nervously the first pamphlet he
saw on the table. 1t was a trifie in one
| act: "The Tench," Lacy's edition, by
| Charles Williams. He set it down with
| grimace. And then the door by which
he had entered opened behind him, and
| he turned.
One look was enough. The kindly express
sion faded from his handsome features in
| the instant. His face turned to flame.
! The veins OF his forehead swelled with
passion, and he strobe forward as though
| he would seize the intruder bodily. How
dare you" he cried hoarsely, when he
| could find his voice; 'how dare you fol-
low me? How dare you play the spy IN
me, sir? Speakw.
But Jack-for Jack it was-had no an
swer ready. He seemed for once to have
| lost (astonished at being taken in this way,
| perhaps,) his presence of mind. 81 do not
quite understand" he said helplessly.
understand? you understand" cried
the archdeacon, his sons very confusion
seeming to condemn him unheard, that
you have meanly followed me toto de-
| tect me in-in-" And there he came TO
a deadlock, and, redder than before.
thundered, "Are you not ashamed of
yourself. sir?"