The Pioche weekly record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1877-1900, 1893-06-15
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Is
1t was early spring, the air was soft,
thenight still, and the sharp clang echoed
for moment before the door was opened
by trim waiting maid. The moonlight
revealed to this maid a boyish looking
fellow, who held carefully in both hands
fowerpot containing most beautiful
azalea in the full bloom of its pink bios
SONS. The maid involuntarily smiled as
she saw the lovely flower, and the smile
was answered by an engaging one from
the young man.
sis Mrs. CORTLAND at homer
"No, SIR"
"Mr. CourtlandY
mo, sir. They are at the theater."
An expression Of disappointment cross
ed the youths face, and he hesitated as
IL puzzled.
won't you step imp
After an instants pause the man did
30, threw comprehensive glance about
him and said, II promised to deliver
this plant to Mrs. CORTLAND herself,
but it's long way up, and I believe I'll
leave it."
He had one of those pathetic voices in
which there is an unconscious appeal,
and this, together with his frank blue
eye and pleasant manner, created SYM
pathy for his disappointment in the
maids heart. So she received the plant
carefully from him and was about to
place it on hall chair when the man
gently interposed, Excuse me; I'd rath-
er you'd put it in safer place."
:. Surely" and as the plant was heavy
the maid went slowly down the long
hall, turning her back completely. The
man dropped a card on the chair, pushed
the door to with loud slam, and with
astonishing agility and lightness sprang
up the staircase, disappearing before her
return.
well, he might ha' waited" she NUT
tered, throwing the card into the silver
salver, and the man, who paused in the
hall above, heard her descend into the
basement.
He smiled, listened, stepped into the
dimly lighted library, passed through
two dressing rooms into the bedroom
beyond, turned up the gas slightly, and
with q lightning glance took in the apart
ment and its appointments. As he had
calculated, the room was prepared for
the night, so he ran little chance of
being disturbed.
He touched nothing until he caught
sight of gray coat thrown carelessly
over chair This he seized, thrust his
hand into the inside pocket and drew
forth with evident satisfaction letter,
which, hastily examining, he kept. He
then replaced the coat with precision,
lowered the light, listened intently and
prepared to descend, when the click of
night key was heard in the lock.
The owners of the house had returned.
A pause. Footsteps on the stairs.
Double portieres draped the doors. He
slpped between them.
Mrs. CORTLAND entered, turned up the
Light and with negligent grace threw off
long opera wrap, revealing that she
was beautiful woman in full evening
dress, tall, slight, blond. For full
minute she gazed at herself reflected in
the cheval glass, then discontentedly sat
down before it and commenced unclasp-
ing the ornaments from dress and hair
and arms.
A well built man with plain face and
fine carriage entered and stood silently
regarding her.
"Tired, Gertrude" Mr.. CORTLAND
asked kindly.
sNo."
'sSick?r
"No."
"What them
Bored; SO bored"
"Why not have gone to the opera?'
II have heard 'Lohengrin' until
hate it."
Gertrude" tenderly, you are not
unhappy? You love me?'
"Yes," indifferently.
"Then what troubles your"
Nothing Everything is SO tedious
am weary Of people, weary Of clothes,
weary of myself"
"And weary of me?"
His wife did not answer, perhaps did
not hear.
Mr.. CORTLAND pondered intently, look
ing at her curiously as she unwound a
long scarf from her throat. Suddenly he
CROSSED the room, and taking up the gray
coat put his hand into one of the pockets.
ssWhere is that letter.
"What letter. asked his wife, startled
by the sharp tone of his voice.
'sThe letter ! left in the pocket of this
coat"
The man behind the portieres started.
II saw no letter." replied Mrs. Court
land, rising.
"You have stolen itr' his voice increas-
ing in harshness as with mechanical
courtesy he handed her the scarf she let
fall.
''Richardr'
.sStolen it, say!"
He was powerful man. His brow
grew heavy, his dark eyes glowed, his
hands trembled, he looked brutal, and as
he strobe up to his wife the woman
shrank.
NRichard, what is ita Why are you 50
sfrangeT'
The man concealed became intensely
interested.