The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1892-01-10
THE MORNING SUNDAY, l8s2TwELvE PAGES

/ with her work, and was unaware that any
/ visitor had teen admitted below. A servant
entered the greenhouse with the announce
/ ment: Lord PetterscOurtn Lord Peters
court" she exclaimed, and threw down
her gardening implements IN astOniShment.
| Lord Peterscourt at this hour Of the morn
ing! How very strange! Where is Miss
/ Edith ~
In bed and asleep, miss" answered the
maid
Beatrice went to her sisters room aud
entered it, Edith lay smiling in her sleep,
dreaming, perhaps OF the triumphs OF the
day before. But when reused and told OF
| the visitor, she became suddenly as wide
awake as if her eyes had not been closed for
/ hours
Called at this hour Of the day. What
does ne mean by ltl What shall / dol II
only were all ready and dressedm She
| preceded rapidly with her toilet. "But to
think of his being kept waiting! Beatrice,
help me at this pinch if you have any
sisterly feeling. l know I've been nasty to
you at times, but forget it all, like a good
| Christian, and stand by me now. You
must go down, introduce yourself to him,
and play the benevolent elder sister till |
come Talk to him, you know, in your
staid, elderly way. You've quite color
this morning." she added. glancing rather
grudgingly at the tinge in Beatrice's cheek.
I've been gardening" said the latter.
/ ".
and she laughed little.
Nonsense, Beattiel Don't be absurd
| well, if must so down, hope you'll
GENE soon."
"As soon as ever 1 can. Thank you,
Beattie. By the way, you might leave me
that rose in your dress; 1t would just finish
me off. and l havn't time TO get one for my
self"
Beatrice smiled as she removed the red
rose she wore from the body of her white
dress, took Off her gardening apron and
went downstairs.
She passed slowly across the hall, entered
the drawing room. closing the door behind
her. The sun-bhnds were down before the
| windows, the room was shady. The sum-
mer breeze came in and shook the curtains
Lord Peterscourt was standing by the
table, his back toward her, bending over a
photograph album. He had not heard her
approach. Beatrice advanced.
MY mother wishes me to"
| Lord Peterscourt started-stood erect
turned his face to her.
"Archie Is ito, is it really Archer
But before she had finished asking the wild
question, two arms were clasping her close.
| and then voice. long unheard, whispered:
YES. dear and only love! 1t is Archie,
who has found you at last, and is never
going to be sent away from you again."
When their agitation and her wonder
were little subsidized she heard his story:
How faithful he had been to her whose
parents had driven him away from her
how, after she left India and returned with
her father and mother to England, he had
lost all tidings of her save rumor, two
years later, Of her marriage-how he had
felt that no other woman could ever occupy
his heart, and that her memory must be
his only life companIon-how he had found
| life but a sorry business, and had half
| hoped that when he served through the
Afghan war the dart so often hurled at
his comrades might come his way. And
with regard to the earldomg Well, Archie
Milroy had been far enough from it in those
| old Indian days, but the unexpected death
of two cousins he'd made him heir to his
great uncle, the last earl. At the aged
nobleman's request he had come to Eng
land the preceding winter 20 pay him a
visit, but when Archie arrived at the esrl's
town house in Berkeley square, he found
that his relative had had a stroke of paraly-
| sis, to which he succumbed u few days later
and Archie found himself a wealthy peer
But what was it all to me-" he said,
with desolate heart! could only think:
| If this had come years ago, they would
have given her to me- All seemed hollow
and empty. took butsmall pleasure in my
'honors,' as they are called. | had often
| thought of cutting the world, and then
when ! came down to Peterscourt, and the
people here asked me TO open their bazar l
sorely wanted to get out of doing it, but
| they seemed as if they would take no re-
fusal so went. And there saw a face like
my lost love's-only not so lovely. 1t was
| your sisters. | was introduced to her;
| from her learned that my lost darling was
found again and was still mine" Poor
| Edith So this was your boosted con-
| questD "Beattie." and he looked tenderly
and penetratingly into her violet blue eyes
and his hand touched gently the fair cheek,
''my gentle. patient love. Perhaps l can
guess little of what you have had to
| bear"
Beatrice's eyes fell and her cheek flushed,
for it seemed as if he guessed, in some mys-
FERROUS manner. something of what she had
suffered from Edith. Soc said nothing,
only her dropping head lay on his heart,
and presently she murmured. "Archiel
Archie, have you really come back to me!
| o! the long, sad. lonely years that have
come between us-how could live themg'
And her tears rained down for the sorrow
that was past as much as. for the joy that
| was present.
When Miss Edith futtered down in her
! embroidered white frock, with the damask
rose she had taken from her sister fastened
! in her bodice, her great, brown eyes bright
with excitement, and q smile of the sweetest
welcome on her fair face, she received the
greatest shock it had ever been her lot to
suffer.
Her grand castle in the air it seemed had
been jerry-built; as she stepped in to take
up her abode there it fell upon her aud
crushed her-crushed let us hope. some of
the vanity and conceit out of her
| To think that this earps interest in her
had been merely on account of her relation
| ship to Beattie. To think that Beattie who
had heard all her boasls-Beattie, at whom
she had gibed and jeered-was goiog to be
the countess, not herself. TO think that
and here, shut into her own room, she
broke down, and shed many bitter bears.
own l am pleased at the picture she
makes sitting there weeping-at the mortI-
fcation she so richly deserved.