Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1890-07-19

Madge from all response blllty or blame.
"Dinah Retallack is wicked woman.
You do not know her past history-it
seems hard, but can never forget it. "
Mrs Trevylian related the story briefly.
Harold gazed out seward, a strange
expression on his face.
"She sinned, but she has suffered; is
not that an atonement?" he said in a low.
earnest tone of deep feeling.
| Mrs. Trevylian and Madge were busy
arranging picnic tea under the shadow
of the rocks. Only Olive heard The
quietly uttered words, though she ap-
peared to be deep in her book. A fash
came into her dark eyes, unseen uD der
her thick, black lashes. Another link in
the chain! What could such words
mean? They had escaped him unawares
and bore additional proof that her sus-
picions were well grounded. Had he
then sinned2 And, if so, in what way?
True, he might have secret, but it did
not follow that it was disgraceful one.
Yet Olives growing hatred and jeal-
ousy were SO great that this idea brought
almost disappointment with it. To I'M
mask Harold before her aunt and Madge,
to dash from the lips of the latter the
cup of happiness, was now the only thing
she longed for.
"Olive, how lazy you arel Here,
mother, this is q comfortable place for
you. Mr.. Darlington, 1 shall put you
opposite the chicken pasty-you must
carve it. I made it, so shall be awfully
offended if you do not eat large piece"
Madge had regained her good spirits,
and was busy and happy as child as
she waited on every one, her merry
tongue going all the time
Eat some? Rather! I'm as hungry
as hunter-besides, my life is insured"
he whispered slyly. No, no! Miss
Msdge, I'm only joking" as she made a
raid on the pie, in pretended punishment
for his insolence. "It looks sumptuous,
de1icious-the very prince of pasties!"
AS he spoke he placed liberal portion
ON his plate, having first helped the
ladies.
"Now, you know, to carry out all ira
ditions Of well regulated picnics, some
one ought to have forgotten the salt. By
the-bye, where is it? if l dare ask, re-
Numbering Vatel, with feigned glance
of ti1nidity at Madge.
"Yatel! Whoever was he?' the girl
asked, laughing.
"Why-at least, l am not sure if it
was Vatel, or some other famous cook,
who committed suicide because his mas
ter put salt in his soup, thereby intimat-
Ing that its favoring was not perfect ton.
do not want to see Miss Madge rush
away from us suddenly and jump off the
cliff, you know"
Long, long would the memory Of that
happy day, its golden sunshine and
pleasant fooling, be engraven On their
memories.
Olive wavered for u moment in her
Judgment. Could this man, who laughed
and jolzed SO gayly, with evidently no
thought of anything but the present
moment, really have dark and guilty
secret hidden in his breast?
bat all the same, where is the salt?
| should like some, too" said practical
Mrs. Trevylian.
The next minute, after searching the
provision hamper, they all looked blank
" at one another. Harold burst out
| laughing, and the others followed his ex-
ample.
Perhaps it is in the other hamper
suggested Madge. Mamma packed that;
80 if it is not, she is the culprit." She
drew the basket towards her.
Indeed, did 10 such thing! was
Just wondering what was in it," said
Mrs. Trevylian.
Harold cut the strings, and unwrapping
layers Of silver paper, drew out two
enormous punches of purple grapes, black
and heavy with ripeness, and basket of
velvet skinned, rosy peaches. A box of
French bon bons, chocolate dragees and
creams, and quantity shaped, rush COW
cred flask of rare foreign liquor, COM
| pleted the contents of the hamper.
"Only little dessert l ventured to
bring as my contribution to our al fresco
spread. Oh, please do not thank me; it
Is who owe you all the gratitude for
letting me come with you" said Harold,
with his usual courtliness, selecting the
best peach for Mrs. Trevylian as he spoke
Those things never came from Penn
ance," Olive said quietly, with pene-
trating glance at Harold. HE must have
paid three or four guineas at least for
that hamper; and yet he pretends to be
poor. don't believe it." she reflected
''The secret then has nothing to do with
money. That is SO much information
| gained"
"Of course not" Harold answered the
spoken part of her thoughts, by placing
some grapes on her plate would any
thing so prosaic be worthy of the day
and occasion? No-I did not get the
basket with its contents from Penzance;
but invoked the aid of friendly sprite
who brought it from fairyland"
In other words, you got it down from
Fortnum and Mason's by parcel post"
said Madge, reading the label, with a
mischievous CLEAN in her eyes.
"What a shame to spoil my bit of ro-
nance! thought you Cornish people
were firm believers in fairies and witches;
or should not have ventured to trade on
your credulity."
Harold and she had strayed down to
the waters edge, and were out of hear
! ing of the others.
"Mr. Darlington, tell me what did
that horrid old woman say to you when
! had left the cottage? Was it anything
bad? WANTED to ask you when l got
the chance, said Madge, earnestly, I'M
needing his quizzical remark.
Nothing: at least nothing of any con-
sequence. Don't trouble your head about
her. At any rate do not feel much
frightened !"