The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1891-06-14

| people who knew him-fuH or tact, sym
pathy and discretion, as well as frmness
and decision. Just after had left Oxford
! was at bis chambers late one winters af
ternoon, waiting for him to come in, wheI
there was hurried knock at the outel
door | opened it, and a woman - e
shrouded female figure I believe, is the
consecrated term-came hurriedly into thu
room
Mr.. Stanmorer That is my name
said. But she said, apparently taken
aback, you are SO very young I sup
pose it was my uncle, Mr. James Stanmore
you expected to see,' replied. Yes, il
was; it was indeed. | wanted to see him
particularly How soon will he be imp i
really haven't an idea,' l said. Oh, she
| cried distractedly, what shall do? Can
/ give him any message?' said, 'or will
| you write letter. No, no; won't write,
she said incoherently. I wanted to see him
| himself-to tell him about it and ask his
| advice Oh, what shall doP and she GOV.
cred her face with her hands"
How thrillingp murmured Mrs Mere
| dith
II was thrilled" said Mr.. Stanmore,
land, | must say, extremely anxious TO
| know what had happened to her."
WAS she pretty?" inquired Mrs Mere
dith.
II couldn't see her face in the least"
said Stanmore, "for, besides having thick
VEIL she stood with her back to the win
dow, and the room was growing darker
every moment. For one moment she stood
silent; then, conscious, perhaps that had
no means of identifying her, she said: I
Will tell you. must have some advice,
some sympathy; but, mind, l am counting
on your silence and discretion need not
say" said Stanmore again, with twinkle
in his eye, with what fervor / sWore to
obey her commands.
''She then, in low and hurried voice
told me her tale, which was certainly a
piteous one enough. She had left her home
during her husbands absence-left her
home and her child, as she thought, for
ever. Then suddenly on the eve of quit
ting England she had realized-partly, at
any rate-the full horror of the future
stretching before her, and with desperate
idea of, at all events, becoming the legal
wife of the man with whom she had cast
in her lot, she made up her mind to turn
to my uncle, of whose wise and under
standing kindness she had heard, and find
out from him if it were possible to be-
come free from the husband she had left"
"Of course it was not" said Lady Dug
dale, soto voice.
''Of course not" said Stanmore; $50
much knew even then. told her so, and
| told her that unless her husband chose to
take steps she was powerless to regain her
freedom. She was staggered by the blow
Are you quite sure of this? she asked.
Absolutely certain replied. "And then,
in burst of imprisoned eloouence,"
Stanmore went on. in which could doubt
less be discerned the germs OF that forensic
eloquence afterward so justly famous, II
put before her-prompted by know not
what passionate regret at seeing her young
life destroyed-the future, the only future
for which she could hope, and implored
her to go back to her home while there was
yet time, Her husband was not to return
till the next day, SO that the evil she had
done was not past redemption, so far as his
peace of mind and her fair name were con-
cerned. She listened in silence. then burst
into torrent of tears.
THANK you, she said, as she turned to-
ward the door. In spite of your youth and
inexperience you have done me a service
tonight which shall never forget | see
you are prepared to follow your uncle's
footsteps. | have been told that he is a
wise, good man. My modesty, which has
always been excessive" said Stanmore,
with a smile, was somewhat abashed at
this, and in order to turn it off l said light
ly, oh, yes, Pm going to be a barrister
too, some day. In fact feel as if l had
begun my career tonight-you are my first
client She held out her hand to me ST.
lently, and went away"
And then?" said Mrs. Meredith eagerly |
"That's ALL" said Stanmore 81 know
nothing more"
Nothing more?" said Lady Dugdale
did you never hear of her again?"
Never" said Stanmore; never saw her |
or heard of her. And if l had could not |
have recognized her features, which |
never saw; nor her voice, which was !
hoarse and strangled with sobs; nor her
name, which never heard. So l am afraid |
that now | must make up my mind that |
that story is to be forever unfinished. | !
have told you all am ever likely to know |
of it,"
And just in time" said Lady Dugdale,
as pealing ring at the hall bell sounded !
through the house.
There she isl" said Mrs. Meredith.
door and announced "Mrs. Clanmorris."
An atmosphere of social influence and |
position seemed to accom-
pany the newcomer into the room. Her
clothes were certificate in themselves
the handsome long dark cloak of stamped |
velvet, trimmed with the most expensive |
fur; the suitable middle aged bonnet.
Lady Dugdale, after welcoming her eff
fusively, proceeded to make her known to
the rest of the party. Mrs Clanmorris
Mrs. Meredith's bow with |
graciousness; then, as Lady |
Dugdale pronounced StanmOre's name, a
very unexpected thing took place. For the
first time in the memory of the county did |
Mrs. Clanmorris' manner alter; that lu-
minous atmosphere of serenity that sur
rounded her showed traces of disturbance,
revealing dark spots underneath, like |
those of the sun. What had happened?
A sudden wave of memory, of gratitude,
had swept over her. Moved by an irresist-
lble impulse she put out her hand and
some agitated words, which in
the dead silence were distinctly audible to
the amazed listeners:
Mr.. StanmoreI Can it be you. I was
your first clientr'-Boston True Flag.