Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1890-11-29

But q lady at his side seems to claim
all his attention, and is dressed, too,
like bride. 1t certainly wasn't Grace
Altering, his proud sister, whom she
met once at their uncle's, year ago.
No; she didn't resemble her one bit.
That provokingiy beautiful veil, too,
looked like the GROWING point OF a
bridal trousseau.
Mrs. Hunter looked again, This time
she saw look on the handsome young
lawyers face as he gaZed down on the
! woman's beside him that made her feel
awfully uncomfortable, somehow.
Well, Mrs. Isabelle Hunter sat the
services out without feeling the least bit
thankful, for reasons best known to her
self. Bernice, however, seemed wonder
fully attentive to the sermon.
"This is my wife, Mrs. Hunter, bowed
Howard Altering at the close OF wor-
ship, as he led the yelled lady up for an
introduction.
GLena, dear, this is my old friend, Mrs.
Hunter. of whom l have often spoken,
and this" turning to Bernice, who stood
by with a mischievous twinkle in her
eve, ais another friend of mine, Miss
Hunter"
II am sure we shall be the best Of
friends" exclaimed Bernice, delightfully."-,
as she acknowledged the introduction by
a cordial clasp of the hand and dainty
little kiss on the fair cheek Of Mrs. How
ard Altering.
Mamma Hunter said but little on the
way home; but her daughter ceased not
to dwell on the exquisite taste OF the
brides attire, fairly bubbling over that
81 I'D Athnrlip0 bod
such fsdylike wife.
There are more martyrs in this world
than those burned at the stake; and
Mrs. Hunter felt in her Utmost soul that
she suffered all the keenness OF chagrin
and wounded pride in that short service
hour.
But it could not be helped. Howard
Altering had right to marry whose
ever he pleased, for all her; and, now
that no had exercised that right, Ber-
nice would most likely have her bent in
preferring that poverty-stricken Thurs
by. 1t would come to more than that,
too, her motherly intuition told her. Oh,
it was dreadful!
She had always heard of the %black
sheep" but she didn't think such
dreadful thing would crop out in the
hunIer family.
Now, something told her that Bernice,
with her wit and beauty, her accom-
plishments and queenly bearing, would
metamorphoSe herself shortly into that
undesirable creature, and likely as not
elope with that bookkeeper-maybe be-
fore Christmas; she had noticed that they
were wonderfully intimate lately. Oh,
dear!
But the Atherlings had accepted her
invitation, and must be entertained.
Her enviable title as the finest hostess in
all Merriweather must not suffer; so,
laying aside her terrible heartache, Mrs.
Hunter put through the day in the red
hot crucible of substituting smiles for
tears.
She felt more like weeping bitterly, of
course, than smiling down on the innO-
cent, girlish figure uSurping the place
she had so long coveted for Bernice; but
there was no opportunity, and she must
live it down.
Finally the day dragged through, and
what a Thanksgiving it had been, to be
sure. None but Mamma Hunter ever
knew how every moment of that awful
day heightened out on purpose to stab
her wounded, calculative pride through
and through.
Strange that Bernice did not by word
or look taunt her with the failure of her
plans: she was doubtless too well salts |
fed with the prospect of being left with !
only to entertain. Never mind, |
that boOk-keeper should never enter the !
house at Merriweather Place again; she |
would have her revenge.
The AtherlingS were gone now, the !
,hina and silver had been restored TO |
heir respective closets, and Bernice had |
gone sedately upstairs TO write letter, |
md neighbOr, Mrs. AmSden, dropped |
n.
"Of course you've heard the news"
the exclaimed, almost before Mrs. Hun
er wheeled an easy chair into place for |
Ter comfort.
THAT Howard Atherling is married?
Yes; he and his wife were here to-day"
eplied Mrs. Hunter, coldly.
"No! oh, no; that's nothing out of the
ommOn," exclaimed Mrs. Amsden, i'm