The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1891-06-12

| ing, my two swains had been able to watch
my carriage and to keep up with it without
much trouble.
| It is scarcely necessary to remark that
had involved myself in very serious diff
| culties. I have said that just before
| tainted thanked my stars that Penny
had gone before Bran came back, but after
/ had come to myself again, which | did
| almost Immediately, fancy, was rather
sorry that Penny had not stayed to see me
| swoon, after all. For it might have
! brought him round-and then everything
might have been explained then and there.
That is what occurred to me when re-
covered, at least; am not sure now that
| it would have made any particular differ
| ence, and am satisfied that it was better
| as it was.
| l returned to consciousness again then to
| find Bran and Captain Brague bending
! over me with solemn faces. sat up and
looked around me. Twas sitting on chair
/, for moment my recollection hovered,
and then shook myself together and pre-.
pared to act was ashamed of my weak
ness, but it was over now, and though the
whole thing was a horrid, a wretched bore,
! and really quite unjust, knew that had
| to see it through. never had been want
ing in resolution, aud now that felt that
I was in difficulties | resolved to get out OF
them as soon as possible, and with as much
spirit as could command. waited for
an instant, until felt that could speak
with frmness, and then I said:
"This is very unfortunate affair.""
"Yes," said Bran, with deep breath,
| "it is.,'
Captain Brague began to protest that he
| was overwhelmed with grief-that he had
| taken me for some one else. stopped him
and bade him tell me as quickly as possible
how he had come to follow mo to the res
| taurant. / had pretty correct idea of the
truth, but / wanted to hear his story, and
wanted Bran to hear it too. He began to
falter little, saying that he couldn't tell
me the name of the person for whom he
had mistaken me.
81 don't ask you for that" said I. "Be
as quick as possible"
So he told us what had happened, as /
have told it above. noticed that Bran
was darting glances of fury at him, and
when he had finished made them promise
solemnly that they would speak to nobody
on the subject, not even to each other, un-
til / asked them to do so. sent Bran
| once more for a carriage, and took advan-
tage of the opportunity thus offered for a
l1UUl6 luTbuCI IcucCtAOu. QulCAly ucclu6u
to go back to my mothers; preferred to
run the chance of delaying an explanation
| with Penny rather than to take the risk of
| having a-well, a row at home. / knew
| that when Penny's temper was gone from
him he wouldn't think of his surround
| ings, and really could not bear the idea
of furnishing material for kitchen gossip
and scandal.
Therefore when Bran came back l bade
both the men good night as politely as
could, smiling a little to myself as per-
ceived by their countenances that each had
| expected to be my prop and stay in my af-
| Fiction, put myself in the carriage and
drove to my mothers house. had to ring
her up, unfortunately, and when she came
to the door she was in mood to know why
wanted shelter with her.
Mamma" said l. "I'll tell you in the
morning.
"Ethel," she said 'you have had quar-
rel with your husband"
Willful as was, was not utterly lack
Ing in human kindness; so / sat down and
told her the whole story. But refused to
take counsel with her that night, and /
went to bed, Professionally, for the day-"in
order to wait developments" as the news
papers say declaring that was not to be
disturbed for anybody less than my hus-
band himself. And during that day
waited and reflected, expecting every mo-
ment to hear Penny's voice in the hall be-
low me. After that came down stairs
and Joined my mother unto myself. And
by that time matters had developed them
selves with vengeance.
My reflections had brought me to this
conclusions: that the whole thing was a
nafO hal how hot Nk
my fault-which was, it will be observed,
the point from which had started; that
appearances were decidedly against me,
and that 1 owed it to my husband to go to
him and explain everything and leave the
matter in his hands. But to this course of
action an obstacle presented itself which
rendered all my reflections of no avail
namely, the fact that Penny had gone to
Europe.
For the first time in my life tasted the
bitterness of despair. Oh, how wretched
was-mentally and physically If could
only have arranged matters respectfully
with Penny-if could only have presented
myself to the world as spouse at perfect
accord with her husband in spite of all
that had passed-if had only been in a
position to snub the weakhngs and defy
the strong-for aught would have cared
the whole story might have been sounded
throughout the length and breadth of the
land by brazen trumpets and published in
the London Truth as welll But as things
stood was at the mercy of everybody in
town. And it would have been idle for me
to suppose that nobody knew what had
happened.
OF course had not spoken to any one.
Bran Boullter and Captain Brague had
been equally silent, was quiet sure. and
all the indications pointed to the conclu-
sion that Penny had departed in fit of
rage without taking anybody into his con-
fidence.
But there is in society breed of pointers
who are as quick to detect an incipient
scandal, and as true to indicate its position
as ever is the thoroughbred to discover a
covey. Rumors flew about as thick as
snowhakes; some were absurd and none
was absolutely correct, but all connected
the break between Penny and myself with
the Maennerchor, and most of them, of
course, brought in poor Captain Brague.
And the real culprit all the time was EN-
ma Maplesi 1t was too aggravating.
"a good chance for Mrs. Charter to keep
Lent" people cried. "She hasn't done such
thing for several years" Oh, how furi-
Gus it made me to think how all the idle
old heads were bobbing and the false old
fronts bristling and the venomous old
tongues waggingl And really my condi-