Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1892-09-03

kind enough to say, j was too proud t0speak
10 Mr.. Gascolgne; 1 hid my agitation as well
as / could, and he did not appear TO notice 1t.
He asked rue to sing to him, aud / sang
old ballads and Scotch songs, and played a
fragment or two of Beethoven's, until din
ner-time. Immediately after the meal the
chess-table was pulled up, and for two hours
We played persistently. the old man, as be-
fore, throwing into the game all the inter-
est aad animation he displayed for nothing
else.
He spoke on no other subject until ! was
leaving him, when he gave me a sudden
critical glance.
'Well did you see my nieces to-day?'
Yes" / answered. II had tea with them"
"And did you find them pleasant-polite
-agreeable?'
/ paused; but / resolved never to acknowl-
edge that / felt their discourtesy.
Miss Annis Farquhar,' SAID, was more
than pleasant. She has been exceedingly
kind to me since 1 came"
Has she? That is right. And the others
my Lady Martin and Hilda?p
with the others, Mr.. Gascoigne, / have
not succeeded so well.'
You did not look as though YOU had" he
said quietly, with a. smile. Never mind,
my, dear, never mind. Don't need their
nonsense!" And he chuckled as he finger
ed one Of the ivory pieces on the table.
Wen say Check to them by-and-by."
For a week my days at ST. Gabriel's
Grange passed like this. Sometimes I had
breakfast and luncheon by myself, some
times with Lady Martin Pomeroy and her
sisters. At tea / always met them, and al
ways encountered the same annoyance from
Lady Martin. the same disdainful indiffer-
ence from Hllda. Twenty times a day /
vowed not to stop another week beneath the
roof that sheltered these two women, who
seemed to try with all their mightto arouse
my anger, and bring me TO retOrt In such
words as could be repeated to Mr.. Gascoigne,
or As would drive me from the house.
But Mr.. Gascoigne, eccentric and dicta-
sorial as he was, was ever courteous TO me.
and, though he would often ask, as on that
second night, whether | had seen his nieces,
and how / got on with them, L never said
more in answer than ON the first occasion.
When they were not going to visit friends,
they came up to dine with their uncle, bring
ing their fashionable gowns and their fair
faces into the antique rooms, and ~rustling
their silk trains against the armOr of their
ancestors. Then Lady Martin cuTbed her
sarcastic tongue, and Hilda Farquhar court
ed the old man with smiles on her beautiful
lips and softer CLEANS from her blue eyes. |
saw that she could be fascinating when she
pleased, and when it was part OF her scheme.
Gwendoline made no pretence OF gracious
ness. She merely spoke little and sat quiet
ly, with the curve of discomfort AND scorn
3 still nm hap tipa and gafI tns "a ,...pl % MN
After dinner she would sing to the old-fash.
Toned piano her modern passionate love
songs. i think Mr.. GlscOigne liked to hear
her, but he rarely betrayed as much. Hilda's
classical playing he candidly declared he
did not care to hear; for Annis, who pos
sessed only a small mezzO-soprano voice.
but who sang simple ballads that were suited
10 1t, he had sometimes a word Of praise.
But, after G~wendoline's thrilling notes
had rung through the room, he would tell
me TO sing one of his favorites. and | went,
inwardly very tremulous, TO the instrument,
wondering how my low Qulvering notes
would sound after the brilliant soprano.
That is good. You have a fine rich voice,
Miss Thorne.' Mr.. G~ascoigne said one night
1t was the first time he had outwardly ex.
pressed any pleasure at my performances,
and | thought at the time it was done in his
crotchety fashion TO annoy his nieces, ''She
sings well-eh, Hiida?'
Miss Thorne wisely selects very simple
songs said Mi.s Farquhar, with a little
smile of contempt.
oh, that was the reason, was Il? j
thought Miss Thorne chose those songs to
please me. Can you sing anything in the
style Of Lady Martins songs"-he fingered
some of her music that lay on the table
something by Arthur Sullivan or +. II.
Cowen? Try, If you please"
would have sung to him fifty songs an
other day ia order TO have refused then; but
/ asked myself why | should be thought Ia
accept Miss ~Farquhar's sneers; and, with a
rebellious desire to DO my best in the knOwl.
edge that they had never sought to hear me
in their ~drawing-room, l without a word
obeyed.
chose "Will he come?'' and | think that
i sang it well, the better that ! knew LAZY
Martin Pomeroy and her sister were listen
ing. But Ii was, too, a ballad that / loved,
and, As l went on, | forgot the proud faces
watching me, and the cold criticism ready
10 seize on a faulty note or an iInperfec.
chord. As / played the soft symphony be-
fore the last sad verse, | heard Lady Mar.
tins voice. She began In clear sharp ac-
cents, without a pretence of a whisper.
Il had a letter."
The old man held up his hand quickly
and authoritatlvely, and never turned his
face from me.
When the last refrain was finished
REST to the weary spirit,
Peace to the quiet dead
and the last soft chords had died away, he
uttered a simple courteous Thank YOU"
and then looked at Gwendoline.
Now l am at your service, Gwendoline.
You had a letter."
II will wait" she answered, until | can
speak TO you in private. / am not in a hur-
ry"
Eilda rose and came to his sid> by the big
dining-tablc, and laid her white ~ring-decked
hand on his arm.
Uncle Richard, may | play a game of
chess with you? Don't You think | play
well enough for just one game?:'
You are very kind, my DEAR" Mr.. Gas
coigne said drily. but | will not tax your
patience. Go back 10 the piano, and play
your sisters accomplishments, and Miss
Thorne and l will undertake the chess"
Annis knelt down In front of the stone
fender and watched our play with a smiling
interested face.
She was always pleasant with me, always
kind, although she was nervous and shy and
half afraid, | thought, OF her stately elder
sisters. Before them slio was quiet and con-
strained, and her little acts of kindness To
me We're done surreptltiously, without their
cognizance. Ii was those little deeds, | be-
lieve, which hindered me.that frst week
from throwing upthe situation. Why should
7 allow myself to be driven from the beauti-
full old Grange, from work which, II uncon-
genial, was easy and well paid-and /, with
my seven brothers and sisters, coald not af-
ford 10 be careless Of my e~arnings-by cruel
s""nts ard hsiaShtu insnltsp
CHAPTER VI
On the morning following the night with
Mr.. Gascoigne Annis asked me TO go out
with her. She had before taken me for a
rainble in the grounds and to the neighbour
ing little village OF Marlands st. Gabriel ON
this day she would take me to the lake, and
i noticed that there was a bright flush on
her cheeks and a happy light In her eyes.
When l went Town into the hall, l found
that w were not going, as before, alone.
n .l.. Af.rtf.. ...I XI,ll. ..l -