Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-09-21

resentment. and the fifth coldly relinquished 8
suit to which her continual silence was nothing
less than an insult. Nevertheless, In the last
letter, which Was dated two years later than
the others, the writer tod her that be had OBJ
tanned promotion and that with Q legacy left
him by an uncle, justified him, he thought. in
renewing his entreaties. A spirit of pride
as great as madams own breathed in the latter
letter. and il was evident thar the persistent
silence of the woman he loved had at last worn
out Capt. Fanshawe's patience. Frances laid
the letters on a stool near the fire. and sinking
down beside them burst into an agony of
weeping. She was torn with conflicting emo
tons, resentment against her great-aunt fraught
with an acute sense of the paihos OF the lonely
old lady's great love for her: Fanshawe's ten
derness and pride, the thought of all he must
have endured at her innocent hands. the
memory of those eight years during which she
might at least have had the happiness of his love-
all crowded upon her with Overwhelming bit
terness and confusion. How long she Law and
wept she could not have told; she was wakened
from her trance of passion by soft touch
upon her hand and pitiful wall. They came
from the gray cat, who had jumped upon her
knee and was exhibiting every sign of dumb
sympathy with her trouble.
Miss Latimer rose quickly to her feet and
drove the poor animal from her with incense
quent anger; she felt she must vent her wild
sense OF injury upon some one, and was not the
cat the cause of her knowledge of that injury?
With trembling hands she gathered the letters
and papers together and laid them again in the
secret drawer and returned it to its place.
The cat still continued to NEW piteously, and
Miss Frances, who was at heart a tender crea-
ture, suddenly felt quick revusion of feeling
toward It, 1t was unjust to make a scapegoat
OF mere dumb animal. She went down on
her knees and coaxed the cat to come to her.
1t crept up in a half-timd, Embarrassing fash
ion, and she took it up in her arms and stroked
1t gently 1t was "a consolation to have the love
and sympathy even of a cat
Ill
"Mrs. Graham, please-Miss Frances" with
which Introductory formula. peculiar to her
self, Ainley. the parlor maid, ushered in the
wears wife, beaming with smiles and laden
with parish magazines.
Miss Latimer went to meet her with eager
pleasure and kissed her warmly The shock of
the morning had left her nerves vibrating and
her manner showed that she was still under
the influence of some strong emotion.
Mrs Graham noticed this touch of excita-
bility-she was woman who prided herself
upon her powers of observation-and her Curl
osity was reused
Frances had felt Mrs. Latimer's death deeply.
as was to be expected of one of her still and
faithful nature, but she had not been demon
strative or overstrung in her sorrow. Besides,
ten months mourning might be supposed to
take the edge off grief for ones great-aunt and
she such an old lady, too. Mrs. Graham would
give worlds to find out why Frances showed
such unusual agitation; it took her back in
memory eight years, to the night before Jack
Fanshawe left the vicarage in radiant spirits
suggesting many interesting Possibilities but
confessing to nothing. His subsequent silence
on the subject of Frances had at first greatly
irritated Mrs. Graham, who had all her sex's
curiosity and interest in love matters; but one
forgets many things in eight years. and Mrs.
Graham had practically forgotten the whole
affair till this moment. The vicar and his wife
had made several attempts to induce Fanshawe
to renew his visit. on those occasions which
found him on shore, but, finding him obdurate.
they had given up asking him to Latimer, and
OF late years he had seldom been in England
Mrs. Graham had suspected Frances as the
reason for her cousins dissemination to revisit
the vicarage. and she now determined to sound
herewith tact and discretion be il understood
How nice to see fireT she began, throw
ing aside her circular cloak and letting Miss
Latimer relieve her of her bundle of papers
I'VE are still trying to think it is summer and
haven't begun fires except al night; but these
September days have a touch of winter in
them, and really think shall begin fire in
the dining room next Monday"
1t was one of Mrs. Grahams little idiosyncra-
sizes to begin everything on Monday.
''Yes, it does look comfortable" rejoined
Frances, moving restlessly about the room.
Il am rather a chilly mortal, you know" she
added.
''By the bye" remarked Mrs. Graham, with
apparent irrelevance, but in reality pursuing
an undercurrent of thought. ,''you remember
Jack Fanshawe, my husbands cousin?''
Perfectly well" replied Frances, as simply
as If Jack Fanshawe had been a topic Of daily
conversation for the last eight years. Her
mind had been SO occupied with the thought
of him that Mrs. Graham's abrupt question fell
quite naturally upon her ears That good lady
experienced pang of keen disappointment
shaft n 40 h. hnf oh
had another in her culver.
''We are hoping for a visit from him in a
few days." she continued carelessly, but eve
ing Frances as cat might mouse. This time
she was satisfied.
Miss Latimer turned quickly to the fire
under the pretense of poking it, but not SO
quickly that Mrs. Graham could not see the
blush that dyed her face and the trembling of
her hands.
1--WE haven't seen him for eight years; not
since he was last here, in fact He was a
charming fellow. didn't you think?' con-
fused murmur from Frances encouraged the
wears wife to further efforts. II wonder il he
is much changed? 1t seems strange, doesn't it.
that he should never have married; he is Just
the sort OF man to make a perfect husband,
and he has met 90 many delightful girls. and
with his position he might SO easily have mar
ried. His mothers and sisters adore him."
she continued, a little discomposed by Miss
Latimers persistent silence and attention to
the fire.
His mother-Lucy Fanshawer' came in
voluntarily to Frances lips. do you know her?
fancied she was dead" she said. rising and
seating herself near Mrs. Graham, with her
back to the tell-tale afternoon light
''Oh! Lucy Fanshawe wasn't Jacks mother:
he is the only son of the second Mrs. Fanshawe
very different person to poor Lucy. / knew
them both. Lucy was poor creature; pretty
you know, in the sort of style men admire. but
a silly, empty-headed little thing. How a
superior man like Mr.. Fanshawe ever came to
marry such woman never could understand"
cried Mrs. Graham, waxing virtuously indig-
nant over such waste of good things
~ thought it was just the kind of thing
superior men always did" suggested Frances
with fine smile. Her heart leaped up at the
thought that she need no longer connect her
old lover with the woman who had wronged
her Great-aunt Sarah.
'Well, he made up for it by marrying Mary
Majendie," continued Mrs. Graham. Jack
gets his sweet, lovable nature from her and
most OF his cleverness. She's delightful
woman. Palmer than Lucy, but the sort of
woman who fascinates you, SO that you don't
think how she looks. She must have spoiled
her son for marrying; he won't easily find an
other woman like his mother"
mo, of course he won't" stammered Frances
hurriedly, conscious of saying something pecu-
liarly futile in her desire to take a natural tone
in the conversation.
Il used to think you had something to do
with it, my dear" Mrs. Graham hazarded
this suggestion with sort Of timid arch
ness, and was not encouraged by the way in
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