San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1889-08-16

pretty womanF was the Hlppant answer.
"He's somewhere on the gold coast, or in In
dia, or at Suakim, she tells me; he might be
dead and buried for all | care-only it's
much safer to know there's husband some
where; and, to do the little woman justice,
although she fiirts to the mines, she does drag
the captain in pretty freely; and even were
he to mount guard over her like a watch dog,
he wouldn't find much to make rumpus
about"
No" said the other, reflectively, pulling
his mustache; "it's case of Canute and the
sea-'iust so far and no farther She's a
tickish one to deal with. don't quite make
her out"
"She does pull fellow up pretty short
sometimes, that's a fact; but she's awfully
jolly-no COMPOUNDED sentiment about her
not like those old stagers who run you in be-
fore you know where you are. She's rare
fun, by Jovel" and he smiled with RETROSPECT
tive enjoyment.
For once the verdict of clubs mess rooms
and smoking rooms was just; Mrs. Mont
gomery Swift's morals were unimpeachable.
Without ostentation she frequently alluded
to her absent consort, retailed passages from
his correspondence, bewailed the long exile
and frequent changes entailed by his pro-
fession, wondered how long he would remain
in those outlandish places where wives were
an impossibility, and occasionally reduced
her admirers to frantic despair by announc-
ing her intention of joining Capt Swift
wherever he might be sent next. When as
sured that such self immolation would be
madness she pensively concluded that per-
haps it were wiser to await his return to
civilization and England.
Sometimes-not very often-Jessica was
alone, and then she would look at herself in
the glass and smile quantity. Isn't it fun
nyT' she murmured, scanning her features.
81 am sure | am not quite so fresh and pretty
as | was two years ago, and / don't think
am nearly as nice. And yet-then nobody
| even looked at me, while now"- Her eyes
sparkled "Oh, my blessed husband, what
service you have rendered mel And to think
shall never, never be able to repay you'll"
Towards the middle of August, with the
abruptneSs which characterized all her move
ments, Jessica, without word of warning to
| her courtiers, accepted an invitation to spend
| fortnight in Scotland with young married
| couple who had taken house on Loeb Lo
| mond for two months. She had not been
| told whether or not there would be other
| guests, but she knew that the Bullunes had
| the knac,; Of making people comfortable, and
she felt just little tired of a surfeit of devo
ton, and inclined to escape from it and rus
ticete in comparative solitude.
So one morning she found herself at St
| Pancras station and when her maid, previous
to seeking her second class carriage, had set
| tied her in first class one, with her books,
rugs and dressing bag, she prepared for her
| long, solitary journey with restful satisfac-
ton. However, just as the hour for depart
| ure had struck the door of her carriage was
violently opened, a military looking port
| manteau and case were thrust in, guard ex-
claimed: PLENTY of room-just in time
| jump in, sir-thank you, sir!" and slammed
the door again upon a tall, handsome man,
who had entered hurredly, and who, as the
train steamed out of the station, looked
rather Disconnected in finding himself tete-a-
tete with a young, pretty and elegant wo
| man.
Before reaching Leicester the travellers had
already exchanged few commonplace civil
ties connected with the pulling up and down
| Of windows, the loan of newspapers, etc. In
stinctively they recognized that they be-
| longed to the same social class; each discov
| cred in the other certain independent, I'M
conventional originality, and like strangers
meeting by chance at some dinner party,
they soon began to converse on every posi-
| BILE subject
"Do you propose stopping at Edinburgh"
said the gentleman, when, after Normanton
and lunch, they had resumed their seats.
For the night, perhaps; but | am bound
! for Inversnaid," answered Jessica.
"Ah with a slight start; II have some
| friends about there mySelf-relations."
81 wonder if they know my friends-at the
| Towers?"
The Bellunes9
| Exactly"
"Why, Dora Bellune Is my cousin, and
am on my way to see her"
"How very amusing. Well had an in
tuition that we should meet again-in fact, |
had quite mapped out your destiny before
reaching Bedford"
| future; the first will, if correct, be guaran
tee for crediting the last"
| Il consent to tell you what | Ghink Of you
| but only if you tell me first who you think
| am"
would you be offended if | said a charm
| ing woman2 Don't frown; | have not said
| it"
'Be serious. Am maid, wife or wdow?"
Not n miss, certainly" with a fine con-
| tempt on the noun.
"Of course not, or you would not have
| deigned to be even decently civil"
Frankly, | am at fault now. Is it wifei
| Is it widowP'
II own there may be reason for doubt
You see, it is difficult to be a widow without
having been a wife, and, as men don't marry
| girls nowadays, it is equally difficult to be a