Evening journal., 1892-08-20

AA
Voltairc limpcd forirdrd lcith plate Of
DickiChe0t cakes.
Spending tears had given Lucy her
headache. She had wept enough to fill
brace Of lachrymatories. The pangs
sharpened when she saw Adonis appear,
very red and very gruff. He seemed
fairly loathsome to her now.
"Must such beast--yes, viii say
beast-as that come near InoY' thought
she.
Strong language for a young lady,
but appropriate. 1t is well TO have a
few ugly epithets in ones vocabulary.
Hard words have their virtue and their
place as well as soft ones.
Mrs. Brothertoft also had headache.
She looked pale and i'll this morning.
This viii never do, MADAM. Consider
your beautyl It will consume away IL
you allow so much fever in your brain.
Breakfast was more silent even than
yesterdays. No headache cared to ask
sympathy Of either of the others.
Lucy said not q word. She compelled
herself to be at table. She dreaded her
mothers presence, but she dreaded her
absence still more. Lucy suffered UNI
der the uneasiness Of a young plotter.
She knew that her plot was visible in
her face. She trembled at every look,
and yet she felt safer while she was
facing her foes. Poor child If she
could have wept, as she wished, freely
and alone, dozen Of lachrymatories-
magnums-would not have held her
tears
Moody Mrs. Brothertoft is also silent
She does not think it good policy to
draw out her son-in-law this morning.
Only q wretchedly low card and no
trump viii respond TO the attempt.
T'other bottle rather browns the power
of repartee. Major Kerr was too mar
ticulate last night to be very coherent
this morning. A courtly bow and fine
manner are hardly to be expected al
levee from a hero lugged to his couchee
by Plato and two clodhoppers, them
selves a little out Of line and step with
too many heeltaps. Tho hostess does
not choose by solicitous questions to get
growls from the future bridegroom
such as
Kerr loquitur. "Yes, thank you; my
tea is mere milksop; my egg an addle
my toast a chip; my butter lard; my
buckwheat cakes dem'd fabby. Every
thing has a tipsy taste and smells Of
corked Madeira. Oh, my headw
Such talk would not make the lover
more captivating. He had better b,
left to himself, to take his breakfast
with what stomach he may.
Nor does Mrs. Brothertoft think il
wise to remark upon yesterdays dinner
and its distinguished guests TO her
daughter. Remark brings rejoinder
This morning, again, Lucy had no kiss
for her mother. Instead OF the warm
tender caress Of other days, with warmth
and tenderness for two, Lucys manne
was grave and distant.
Mrs. Brothertoft divines incipient re
belion in her daughter.
This of course must not be.
The mother did not know that Luc,
had hoisted a signal of distress, and tina
she was almost ready to haul her ia.
up from half mast and fly it at tn
masthead of defiance This Mrs. Broth
CROFT did not suspect of her submissive
J aud meek child She knew nothing O
Voltaire's errand. But she had grow
suddenly apprehensive and timorous
and hardly recognized her old intrepi
!, self this morning. She began to quai
little more and more before her daugh
tor's innocence, For ell reasons she di
not desire to provoke discussion.
A grim, mute breakfast, therefore, a
Brothertoft manor.
Each headache looked into its teacu
IN silence. Major Kerr crunched bi
Of dry toast instead of feeding omnivol
1 ously.
There Is no conversation Of this part
, to report, gay or glum.
But tableau is sometimes more dra
matte than talk
A newcomer at the door glanced a
. this nnsociable THO and deciphered tn
picture pretty accurately.
1t was old Voltaire, limping forwar
from the kitchen.
!, Lucy sat with her face toward th
r pantry door and first saw him.
Flashl Lucy lightened and almo:
/ showered tears at the rising of TIL
. black cloud, charged with fresh ele'
tricity.
y Flash backl from the whites Of Vo
taire's eyes and from his teeth.
l. 1t was but brief fash, but abidin
enough 70 show Lucy through hs
/ gloom one figure stealing to her succo
, Him she was sure Other father. 81
2. one CLEAN from the whites of a blac
g could not reveal the other recruits
a her rebel army. So they must RENAL
r latent, with their names and faces L
d tent until she can have an interview vii
IS her complotier.
But what a hot agony Of hope blazl
is up within her at Voltaire's look an
d cunning nOdl
81 must not scream with JOY" 81
z shought. II must not shrek out th
II great, wicked, triumphant laugh fe
stirring in me. must not jumpup Al
10 mug the dear old soul. Thank heave