The Indianapolis journal., 1892-11-06

the heat of later August. now between
deep cuttings. waving with broom. and
gorse, and seeding grasses. now past floods
of golden grain, fruit-rich orchards, and
lovely little villages. Passengers sigh. and
yawn. and sleep. and grumble generally at
the heat anc at the tedium of travelling.
In frst-class compartment two florid.
''horseyn individuals bave set themselves
TO make the best of il, and, apparently lit
tie disturbed by the state of the thermom-
eter. devour sandwiches and "pour liba-
tions" of something that looks but doesn't
smell like weak cold tea. comparing notes
on racing events past and future, and crit
icising the merits of the latest music-hall
star.
$50 Mrs. De la Poer is husband-hunting
againi" says one of these mighty eaters.
and the remark, uttered after short 81
lence, causes the only other occupant OF
the compartments handsome athlete who
has been half asleep in the corner. his arms
folded, his rather long legs stretched out
TO open his lazy gray eyes, and to color
through his healthy sunburn.
"Jove, yes" comes the reply, with bois-
ferrous laugh. Lord pity the poor old fool
If she catches himi'
"Sour grapes. my boy, sour grapes, ehW
Nothing of the kind. on my Bible oath.
say that once on q time all her smiles
weren't for me; but. of course. when her
pretty face caught swell. it was all over
with common folks and she held her head
too high to see poor fellows like me once
the ring was safe on her fingor. III l was
qualifying tor the position of second hus-
band to her dyship Pd make it my busi-
ness TO know what became OF the first
how he was shhffied off,
And he closed one eye, mods, and takes q
long pull az his flask. The other man looks
interested-was even on the verge of being
excited.
DO you meant" he hints.
"Ob, don't mean anything, beyond the
fact that De Ia Poer seemed TO vanish all at
Dnce. and her ladyship took trip to the
continent. and came back In widows
weeds. Whether it was arsenic, or a bull
let through the head self minIstered, or
whether be just drank himself to DEATH no
one seems to know, and it isn'r my business
anyhow. He was rather handsome fellow.
De la Poer, but q precious soft. else pair
OF bright eyes smirking at him over o bar
wouldn't have led him into matrimony.
She was poor enough. and had to be content
with little enough, when she knew him
first: but, by Jove. after she was married
mines of Golconda wouldn't have kept her.
The best of everything was hardly good
enough for her, and so. with her extrava-
Rance. and maybe remorse, and no doubt
the dropping of of friends who would not
receive an sx-barmaid, De la Poer took ref
uge in drink. Perhaps he had a weakness
for 1t before, just as he had for low COM
pany; but better woman might have made
from bad to worse with q rattle; any way,
the whole thing ended in O smash, in
utter ruin; and between drink and worry
some say the mans brain gave way. i
don't know how that may be. but be van
lshed. and so did she, and when she reap
peared she was got up as widow. She
has started life at Holly wood, where no
one is likely to identity Dolly Pearson of
the Hare and Hounds with Mrs. Dorothea
De Ia Poer of Rosemount, whom every one
wrong. That's all l know. A clever
woman; an adventures if you like; but
clever as the deuce"
But what does she live ont Credit'"
Not at all. She has the luck of old
Harry. The old man who owned the Hare
and Hounds left her all he had, and some
say he would have married her, However
that may be, soon after she came back as q
widow this money dropped into her hands,
and there she Is! The contents of the till
will help her to another good match. May
be some spars were saved from the wreck
and. If so, she'd have them. that's certain.
lt knocked me all out of time this morning
when she drove by. looking too lady like TO
live. staring me straight in the face, as if
she'd never seen me IN her life before.
Another woman would have tainted, or
sought to beg or buy my silence about old
times until her big fish was landed. but
Dolly, thinks l; you're game and won't
spoil sport IL seems that now she is the
rich young widow of n De Ia Poer, of Ches-
ter, which is like saying q Howard or o
Stanley. He's supposed to have treated
her badly. for she can't bear to speak of
her married life; she Is all sweet gentle
martyr and patient angel. Ha! hal hai 1t
really Is fine; and if she catches this new
man. fiction isn't in 1t with Dolly's luck.
Who is be, did you aski Peer Of the realm.
my boy. No less. Lord Willard of Water
dale. wherever that is"
1t may turn out q second edition of De
la Poer. Seems rather pity that another
man should be caught in the same trap,
ehfn
Pooh, this one is able to take care of
himself, or should be. Must be 0ldish, since
he's = widower with two sons. Lord help
'em IL such y step-mother Is put over them"
1ne athlete has sat so quietly in his cor
ner that both men start when he abruptly
rises. trying to force the window lower as
If the heat were increasing. Probably
they would be still more startled could
they know that he is that very Lord Will.
lard to whom their compassion has been
30 frankly extended. He subsidies into his
corner. tucks the ends of his mus
at the PAGES of Punch, though
he sees nothing of Du Maurier's
latest. battling. as he is. against an
impulse to proclaim his identity to the two
men. and knock their heads together as
rraducers OF q defenseless lady. Prudence
and O natural aversion 20 q scene win the
day. he folds his arms tightly. and before
his mental vision rises an oval face. with
seductive violet eyes. and lips that murmur
low and sweet. but you will come back
again. won't your
he is again on the terrace at Rosemount,
the glimmering radiance that lives oil
through a summer night ciasping the fra
grant dowy garden. and the pretty house
with its open windows and its lighted
rooms. whence steal strains of plaintive
music. Mrs. De Ia Poer. graceful and Ian
guild. eyes and lips pathetic leans against
stone pilaster which holds aloft a great
vase brimming over with musk and lobelia
"Why SO sad to-nightr' he asks. with a
sudden sense of stars blown out. as he
looks at her face, pale and mouTnful to q
degree he has not seen before.
We are never merry when we hear
sweet music she returns evasively.
let how happy the sound of your voice
makes me-" be replies, aud she gives q smile
that ends IN sigh.
"Ah, Lord Willard, you pay compliments
as II you meant them! Well,
am sorry You are gong away;l shall miss
you more than l dare think; have so few
friends"
lie slances at the house. at the gay
tnrong In the lighted room. She follows
his glance and answers 1t.
AS you see. i have pienty-for an even
ing; for o life 1t is different matter There
are times when am lonely to desolation