Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1892-05-05
PRIDE'SrONFLyCT.
CHAPTER VII
A STORY OF CASTE.

were poured eagerly into Philip Caring
toms ear on the day after his arrival.
sWhat do | think of her, Ethel. Why,
1t is early for me to think anything: and
surely it cannot be my province to specu-
late about our high-born lady-cousin''
"Oh, but it isp' Maud declared. her
brothers. opinion always being the cue for
her own; and on this occasion she hoped so
earnestly that Philips would be what She
desired.
DWELL, if | must tell you something,
Maud, l will tell you that | think the
young lady very charming, though a little
cold perhaps, very proud and self-contain-
ed; of her beauty there cannot be two
opinions"
''Do you think that it is pride that is her
besetting fault, Phil?" Ethel asked: she
had her own misgiyin@s on the point.
fYes / think it is" Philip answered
slowly; "but it matters little, child; we
shall soon cure her of it when she has been
with us little longer"
Days and weeks passed in Florence
WorthingtOn's new home. Summer was
fading into autumn; the long lingering
evenings in the old fashioned garden were
gradually subSiding into others scarcely
less pleasant, but spent within doors, over
billiards, music, needlework, and reading.
There were evenings when Florence
would decline TO take part in any Of the
family pleasures-when she would sit with
flushed face bent down persistently over
fancy work, rcpelling all her cousins adj
vances, and when the chief cuiprit, Philip,
would appear perfectly blind to her changed
manner, and would meet her always OH her
own ground, ready i'll a moment to be Ell
ther friend or foe as She chose. But Flor
ence often found that, when they were
foes it was she who had TO make the first
concession to be friends-wOrse still, she
felt herself utterly miserable until they
were 50. There were times when she was
often stuag to the quick because Philips
laugh was 20 constant aud uirthttIl, and
his blue eyes 50 bright and nlorking. Then
she would sit apart in stately silence until
he had provoked her into quarrelmg with
him again. In spite of ali wranglugs she
found herself anNiously awaiting the even
ing meal. which nearly always brought
with it til" society of her hated cousin
Philip. Her letters to her aunt, Who was
now III Nice, were anything but frequent;
still in some Of them She must have be-
trayed a secret happiness; for Lady Raven
wrote back rather fully to her niece, con
graduating her upon her good ScHse in BE-
ing able to conform SO Ch"Grfullv to her
present life while it should last, but III.
gently advising her III no way to cutAHsla
herself irritricyably with her new relatives
SO that she could not east Withdraw from
close intimacy, should She he called up
on to do so upon amy future time. They
were most cstimable people, Lady Raven
wrote, and worthy of all consideration and
gratitude; but still under her guidance, 4
little time hence, there could be 10 reason
why Florence should not make match
suitable to her pO>itiou-t position which
might exclude relatives who were engaged
in trade. Above all Things she warned her
against any sort Of ENHANCEMENT with her
step-cousn Philip, though she felt sure
such advice must be quite super1uous, as
Florcnce'S good taste and breeding must
preclude such Il possibility.
With a curling lip Florence read the let
Ger.
"'rhey are sentiments worthy my most
estimable aunt" she said to herself, while
She tore the letter into thousand frag-
menI>.
] had arrived at a time when Florence
and Philip were not good friends. He had
offended her by reading her heart too
clearly, and more by informing her that
he knew perfectly we'll that the arrival of
broker, both passahle English gentlemen,
or their sisters, girls quite her own equals
In refinement or education, was always
the signal for her to keep herself in close
seci@Sion in her own room. She had plead
ed her heavy mourning, but her naughty
and silent greetings to her cousins friends
had betrayed her to Philip, and he had
taxed her with coldness and unsociability
OF the previous evening, even presuming
to enter her own sitting-roOm for the pur-
pose.
They were all below In the full enjoy
ment of the piano and the billiard-ta6le,
while Florence was sitting in solemn
grandeur in her room, an open book on her
knee, but her ears listening to the happy
voices in the apartment beneath her.
difference, L have come TO fetch you-
We all insist you shall not remain upstairs
so long by yourself; it is not good for you,
child" Philip Darlington declared, stand
ing close to his cousin-he had run up
stairs SO lightly that she had not heard his
step, and was little Hurried at his ell
trance. "Coine Florence" he said, taking
hold firmly of one of her hands; .1we are
longing for the pleasure of your society.
Come, DEAR" he pleaded, still clasping her
hand.
- GU KNOW 4 never see any one III my
deep mourning. 1t would not be right
even if / wished it; and Heaven knows
do nOtp' she said cNcitedly.
Philip dropped her hand, but drew e
chair close to her side.
"tlorence the time for that excuse is
past, or we should respect your wish; you
know we should even now if it concerned
any but old friends like John and Amy
Hastings-almost our own family. That
excuse cannot hold good; and, if you per-
sist in it, you will give them nervous
feeling about coming so often, and pain
Ethel not little, which l am sure you
would not wish to do"
"No; l certainly do not wish that, Flor
ence admitted.
"Get you must inevitably do so, If you
persist in your present determination. You
should remember too that in few weeks
they will almost be your own cousins. as
we are"
TEis last bit of information was not
agreeable news for Florence; she told her
self she had no wish to increase the num-
Der Of her low-born relatives"
"Mr Darlington, please do not ask me to
come down stairs; with my mourning, I
could be only cloud upon your amuse-
ment-and indeed l am happier here"
"Your mourning is scarcely heavier than
Amy's for her mother" Philip said.
..Some persons feel their losses different
iy," Florence answered coldly.
"No one could have taken the loss of 3
mother to heart more than poor Amy did, |
think, Philip told her. ''COme, Florence,
put aside this unsociableness. Let ME
take you down. Come to please me, and
because l ask you," he pleaded in low
Thnf