The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1890-07-13


was only when 1t seemed evident that you
were determined to die a bachelor that |
began TO look to see Philip come after YOU
and unite the two estates in one. l am
ashamed Of you, Algernon, ashamed as we'll
as angry. If l had been fool enough to
suffer myself TO be caught by pretty face,
and to have made a low marriage like this,
would have had the courage to face it,
AT any rate, when our father died, which is
fourteen years ago now, when this child
must have been 3 years old, you had the
opportunity of doing then what you were
afraid to do before, and to bring her home
and acknowledge her il you ever intended
to do SO. The county might have thought
you fool, but knowing how proud our
father was of the old name they would
have made excuses for you. But what can
they say Of you now when they hearl l am
sure do not know what they will say of
you. | would rather you had committed a
crime that had mething manly in it than
have gone on playing mean cowardly part
as you have done"
II think you have said enough and more
than enough, Augusta" AlZernon Corbyn
said angrily. 81 have put up with a good
deal from you from the time l was boy,
but this is too much altogether [ am not
going to listen to any more talk of this
sort.n
You may not choose to listen to it. Al
gernon," his sister said, rising, but what
say all the country will be saying as soon
as they hear the news. Though they may
not choose to say it to your fac9 they will
say you have behaved like hyuocrite and
coward, and that you have behaved badly
to Philip; that you have behaved badly to
this girl, that you have behaved badly to
every one"
"At any rate" Mr.. Corbyn said. ~ ex-
pect that you will say nothing OF this mat
ter at present. Augusta. l have told it to
you in strict confidence, and it will be time
enough for you to ventilate your opinion on
the subject when | return with my
daughter"
You do not suppose" she said scornfully,
that shall be in any hurry to proclaim
from the housetop that a Corbyn has dis
graced himself-that is not my way. l
may tell you my opinion myself, but when
the time comes | shall probably fight your
battle good deal more etfectually than you
will fight it yourself. You do not suppose
shall let every one see how disappointed
am that Philip is not to inherit Corbyn."
80 saying, without another word, Mrs
Clitheroe left the room, and taking her
seat in her carriage with the single word
home" thought over the unexpected and
unpleasant news that she had just heard.
1t was bitter disappointment to her. it
was shocking that her brother should have
Corbyn should become the talk of the
county. 1t was bitter disappointment
that Philip should be ousted from his posi-
tion OF heir of Corbyn. The Clitheroe
property was not a large one Her own
expenses were considerable, and for years
now Philip had been taught to consider
himself his uncle's heir. He had kept two
good hunters, had Travelled for some
months every year, and had spent money
freely. and on the strength of the expecta-
tions his mother had never stinted him. and
there was already more than one mortgage
on the Clitheroe estates.
"Should she tell him at once?' This was
the question she kept turning over In her
mind as she drove homeward; but she
finally decided not to do So He will hear
1t all in time" she concluded, land it will
not be such blow on him as it is to me-
He has his fathers easy-going disposition
and will take it quietly; as likely as not be
will make joke OF it, and say it is a good
thing that there is to be a mistress at
Corbyn at last. 1t is a pity he has not
little more Of my spirit, be is Clitheroe all
over"
That was, indeed, the general opinion.
Philip Clitheroe had taken after his father
who was one of the most popular men in
the county, a genial, kindly. hard-riding
squire, altogether without ambition and
without prejudices; an easy-going landlord
and generous friend, who would have
found it very hard to have made his income
meet his expenditure had it not been that
his wife was good MANAGER.
Philip Clitheroe met his mother at the
door.
you have got one of your headaches,
mother, can see that at once" he said
you had better go and lie down. You
know we have got some people coming to
niDnar IF Hnnif faai nj 70 - I
drive round at once and put them all of.
MY head is not very bad, Phil, and a
couple of hours rest will do me good. |
have no doubt that | shall be able to take
my place at the table"
Philip CHtheroe went down to the club
and played whist until it was time to return
to dress for dinner. He had heard on COM
ing downstairs that his mother was already
in the drawing-room. "Are you better now,
motherp
"Much better. Phil" and, indeed, al
though Mrs. Clitheroe was always an ex-
cellent hostess, her guests that evening
were unanimously of opinion that they had
never known her in brighter or better
spirits.
She is very charming woman" old
Gen. Humphreys said to his wife as they
drove home "There are some people who
do not like her, but. for my part. l think
she is an uncommonly pleasant woman. l
only wonder she did not put Philip in the
army. 1t is bad thing for young fellow
having nothing to do, especially in place
like this. He would have made f1rst-rate
soldier. and it would have kept him out of
extravaganza. However / suppose he will
come in for Corbyn some day; but 1 have
heard men who know what the Clitheroe
property is worth wonder how they do it all
on its income"
Mr.. Corbyn's reflections after his sister
had left him were not pleasant. He re-
GREETED now that he had not, as she said,
taken the step of proclaiming his marriage
when, at his fathers death, he came into
the property. People, of course, would
have talked; but they would not have
talked then as much as they would now.
He had certainly been foolish, and Augusta
had, perhaps, a right to feel aggrieved
about Phil. However, he did not think
that Phil would himself take it to heart.
Still, no doubt, people in general would see
the thing in the same light as Augusta had
done, and would blame him more than they
would have done had he come forward and
produced Constance at the first opportunity.
He had always meant to do SO before long,
and had been putting it off for years. But
the girl was II now, and if it was ever to
be done, this was the time for it.
Seventeen years! 1t did not seem as long
as that from the day when, feeling an ut
terly broken-hearted man, he had laid her
mother in her grave in the churchyard of
St. Malo, and leaving her week-old infant
in the charge ~ the naODla with whom thew