Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-09-28

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wife, VIM" she said, rather sadly.
II know" he made answer.
"My poor boyi" she said; and then she
took him by the hand and led him back to
the little table at which they had been sit
ting; and there they had some further con-
yersstion about more or less Indifferent
things, with the one all-important subject
carefully avoided. And then it was time
for them to go away and dress for dinner.
Lord Musselburgh dined with them that
evening. and remained some time after the
other guests had gone. To Vincent it
seemed puzzling thing that two betrothed
people should make so merry. They ap-
peared so well content with their present es-
tate; they were SO assured as to the future;
no anxieties; no conflicting hopes and tears;
they were in the happiest mood. Next
morning, too, Lord Musselburgn again
made his appearance; and the three of them
went out for a stroll along the prone
made. All the world was shining fair
and clear; Mrs. Ellison was look
ing her best, and seemed to
| know it; her fance was in humor. Why,
they were almost like the lover and his lass
of whom Thomas Morley sang nigh 300
years ago-those pretty country folks who
lived in a perpetual spring time, with brids
singing ey-ding-a-ding-a-ding to them
elegant young widow blushed and laughed
| like maid; her eyes were sarcastic, play
| full, amused, according to her varying mood; /;
the sunlight touched her pretty brown hair.
| There was, indeed, sort of audacity of
comeliness about her, that set Vincent think
ing of q very different kind of beauty-the
| beauty that seems to be lowered with
divine and angelic sadness. He was walk
ing with these two; but he did not take part
in their frolic talk; nor did he pay much at
tenton to the crowd ofpeople, the butterflies
of fashion, who had come out into the
pleasant sunshine. He seemed to see
youth, and its touch of color
and its grace of outline was strangely PEN
sive and wistul. And again he asked him.
SELF as many a time he had asked himself,
what that expression meant; whether it had
been brought there by experience of the
many viscssitudes of life, or by loneliness,
or whether it was not something more tragic
still-the shadow of an impending fate.
| There was more than that he could not un-
derstand; her curious resignation, her hope
lessness as to the future, her wish to get
away. And what was it she had concealed
| from him? And why had she declared she
could not ever be his wife?
The morning went by, and Vincent had
| caught no glimpse of Maisrle Bethune or
her grandfather; but indeed he had not ex-
pected that; the old man would be busy
with his books, and it was not likely that
Maisrie would come wandering bv herself
through this fashionable throng. When at
last the three friends got back to Brunswick
Terrace, it was close on luncheon time;
though here Mrs. Ellison was much sur
prised to learn that Lord Musselburgh had
engaged Vincent to lunch with him at the
| Bed ord Hotel.
sWhat's the matter?" said she. "Busi-
ness or billiards."
''Neither," her fance made answer. "I
only wanted to give you little holiday for
| an hour or two."
"Not longer then," she said "For am
going out driving at 8, and I shall expect
you both"
Soon the two young men were seated at
| little window table in the spacious and
cheerful coffee room; and again Vincent was
struck by the eminently practical manner in
which his companion spoke of his iorthcom-
ing marriage. 1t was going to be, he frankly
| intimated, a very useful arrangement for
| both Mrs. Ellison and himself, and their
combined fortunes would enable them to do
what hitherto had been impossible for either
Of them. Mrs. Ellison was fond of society;
| ne had always looked forward to the forma-
| tion of political salon when once he got
married, and now he thought he could afford
to have a much bigger house, which
would be necessary for that purpose, than
his present one in Piccadilly. His place at
Mendover had not been properly looked
after of late; there would have to be some
expenditure there; the chief reception rooms
wanted a thorough overhauling, and a
wife's supervision would supplement the ad-
vice of a professional decorator. Then there
were speculations as to whether he, Mussel-
burgh. ought to accept office-some subsidi-
ary Office, of course, as be6tting his years
when his party came into power again. You
see, Vim Harris was being consulted now as
if he were friend of the family. But as
ior Vincent's own affairs, not word. Lord
Musseiburgh had received a hint and he was
discretion itself.
And yet, if ever in his life the younger of
those two friends had need of confidant, it
was that afternoon, for something had hap
pened that seemed to strike at the very roots
of his being. When it was about time for
them to go along to keen their appointment
with Mrs. Ellison Vincent was stand
ing in the hall of the hotel, wait
ing for Lord Musselburgh, who had
gone upstairs to his room; and he was idly
looking out upon the passing crowd. Idly
and absently; there was no one there to in
terest him; very different it would be Che
was saying to himselO toward or clock,
when perhaps Maisrie and her grandfather
would come out for stroll before going to
dine at one of the restaurants. At present
he had no sort of concern with all those peo-
pie who went driving ard waIking>past, in
the dull sunshine of this wintry afternoon.
1t was pretty show; and that was all.
But of a sudden his heart stood still; and
his startled vision beheld what seemed incred-
ible, and yet was there, and actual, and be-
yond any doubt Ere he was aware, a ve-
hicle had driven by-a tall dog-cart, with
two figures in front and one behind; but
another glance revealed to him that the one
behind was old George Bethune: who could
mistake at any distance the powerful and
striking mead, the shaggy eyebrows. the fow-
ing white hair? And the two in front?-one
was a young man, to Vincent unknown;
the other-a terrible misgiving told him
! that was Maisrie, though they were now
some way of. What did it all mean? He
had never heard of their knowing anyone in
Brighton. They had come down for seclu-
sion, for work: yet here they were in the
midst of the fashionable crowd; and a
young mana stranger-was making osten-
tatious display of his acquaintance with
them. A thousand wild surmises, the off
spring of very madness of jealousy, sprang
into his brain. Why had the old man SO
clearly intimated to him that he was not
wanted-that they wished to go to Brighton
by themselves? And who was this person
who was making such open parade of his
intimacy with them? Alas! there was no
answer to these burning and bewildering
questions; and he stood there breathless,
alarmed, yet not daring to ask the cause OF
his alarm.
Lord Musselburgh came along the hall.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Vim"