St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1891-01-18
CHAPTER II.

mo; my lady," replied Benson. "Sir
Philip sent back the dog cart and said
he would walk home"
The evening had clouded over and
daylight deepened into twilight. Lady
Redmond dressed early and descended
to the drawing room. She shrank back
from it's large emptiness.
"How late Philip isl" she exclaimed.
tits chilly here. Pll go to my den.''
Thither she went, and, closing the
French window, seated herself in her
favorte chair and endeavored to fix her
attention on book. but it was no use.
Her thoughts strayed back to those
penetrating dark eyes. The chimes of
the clock rang out 6:45.
philip not returned-can anything
have happened?" she calculated.
She rose to 20 to the window, but
started back with a cry, for there,
pressed close to the glass was a face
the original of the miniature that had
been before her minds eye all day!
She rushed to the door to call for aid,
and when she reached it, turned one
frightened glance to the window, but
the face was gone.
She flew up the broad staircase, never
pausing till she reached her own room,
and sank, faint and painting, on the
sofa. "Was it dream?' she gasped.
WAS it a real face? Is this house
haunted? What can it mean? What
can it mean?'
She rang and asked for lights, and
TREMENDOUSLY said she thought a tramp
hal looked in at the window. and de-
sired Benson should see there was no
stranger in the grounds.
The candles lighted and blinds drawn
down, her confidence in some measure
returned; and soon her maid came back
with the intelligence that no stranger
had been discovered. Possibly" re-
passed by the windows"
mond; Il was startled at the moment;"
but she knew the face she had seen was
very different to that of any gardener
on the establishment. Half-past seven
rang out. and then o'clock was chimed,
as she sat bordering and trying to rea-
son, and then-oh, joy! she heard her
husbands voice inqulring for her.
"Effie, DEAR" he exclaimed, as he met
her at the door of her room, II am sorry
you have been kept waiting-I won't
stop now; Twill be with you in ten min
utes."
Lady Redmond stood in the doorway
and watched her husband, as with hur-
ried steps he gained the door of his
dressing room: little chill fell on her
heart as she recognized he had, in his
haste to prepare for dinner, omitted the
embrace which hitherto had invariably
accompanied his greeting after the
briefest absence.
She descended to the drawing room.
now well lighted, and Philip joined her
| just as Benson announced dinner.
She could not bring herself to ques-
| ton Philip till the servants had left the
dining room. and then, with a little
tremble in her voice, she asked: ''What
made you so late, Philip"
at the town hall longer than l expected.
Col. and Lady Anne Chartmel were in
Olestone to-day-we lunched together.
1--WE shall meet them at the Yer
schoyle's garden party tomorrow"
I 81 am afraid can't go, Fife, have
| to go to town."
'.To London, Philip"
"Yes, dear, but it's nothing of a dis
| tance."
"Oh, Philip, to lose you another day,
and the 1st will soon be here, and the
house filled with partridge slayers and
their wives and daughters. Philip, don't
go, 1 want you all to myself these last
few days."
land you shall have me, dear, just
except tO-morrOw-Send down to the
rectory, and ask Ellen Moreland to &c
with you. l know she has been in.
vited, the rector told me SO, and that
she would probably ride there, as
neither he nor her mother can go-she
had much better drive with you"
Effie rose to go into the drawing room
she felt hurt and chilled, and partly be-
cause she could not trust her voice to
speak, and partly with desire to at
the piano and began playing his favor.
lite airs. He followed her. but sat lit.
tie apart, and was so entirely silent
that at last she arose and approached
him. to find he was asleep.
An exclamation that was almost sot
escaped her. Philip started at the
sound. "Forgive me, DEAR" he said, 81
feel so tired tonight; it was so hot in
Olestone. think my best plan will be
| to go and have my sleep out"
Fife accepted in silence the light he
offered her, but long after Philip was
Soundly sleeping she sat thinking and
wondering and conjuring up all sorts OF
specters, till she, too, was worn odt
and crept miserably to bed, to lie awake
tossing till early morning hours, when
she fell into heavy slumber. When
she awoke she felt intuitively it was
late. and rang for her maid.
WATSON" she asked, what O'Clock
is it?"
'Nine o'clock, my lady,"
'Why are you so late?"
II came in as usual. my lady. but
your ladyship was so fast asleep and
| looked so pale and tired, l asked Sill
Philip if | should wake your ladysbip
| and he told me to wait until the bel
| rang"
"Any letters?''
"Mr. Benson haven't opened the pos
bag, my lady; 1t hadn't come when Sil
Philip left"
"Lett?"
"Yes,my lady,a telegram came for Sill
| Philip soon after O'Clock; he ordered
| the dog cart at once and left to catch thu
| 9:15 to London. Sir Philip told me tt
say, my lady. he was obliged to 20 ear
| lier than he expected and would return
as soon as possible"
/ every we'll, Watson, that will do"
/ AS Watson closed the door Effie fel
as if her heart was turned to stone
another minute and storm of tears re
lieved here: then, woman like, she be
| gan to argue against herself. to blame
herself. and finally to laugh at hersel
for foolish fears. Philip, dear oil
Philip, of course she ought to trust hin
after all, it might be only some littl
surprise he was preparing for her. Sh,
did not much care for surprises, still
was nice and dear of him; at all events
no one should suspect anything was
was-well, different.
| She would send for Ellen Moreland
she would do everything Philip ha,
suggested, and ''Oh, L do hope the da.
will go quickly" was her last unuttere(
| thnuoht &c sna left her raom