The Irish standard., 1893-05-06
Chapter VI

impossible, Mrs. John admitted to her
self that she had done very rash thing
n precipitating Ninette upon the Fair
banks in this sudden fashion.
How was she to get the child back?
It was one thing to tell old Cato that
she would send the childs nurse after
her, and quite another thing to induce
the fastidious Celeste to trudge the one
dusty mile of country road that lay be-
tween the two plantations.
If the road had been lined with gay
shops, now, it would have been alto
Rether different. She almost hated this
French woman, who was so essential to
Ninette, for the amount of abtect diplo-
macy required for her management.
s'For Ninette's sake,'' was the formu-
\ Ia which Nora applied to more rasping
things than the bonne. She approached
the intrac.able Celeste smoothly and
Rraciously:
Celeste. you ought to be out in the
sunshine. The day is perfect. Those
ruff1es can wait"
The bonne's yellow fingers were busy
with the crimping- iron. She looked up
surprisedly.
"Why should care to go out in this
savage country? There is nothing, mad
anne, to see, but the wild beasts of the
field and dismal cotton-felds. They
make one sicker than ever with the
inconsistencies.
Mrs. John laughed indulgently:
"Wild beasts? Do you call Mrs. Lori
mer's shorthorns and the horses wild
beasts? Seriously, Celeste, you will
have to face them. want you to go
after Ninette."
$50 after the child? What has mad
anne done with her?"
ST let her take short ride with the
old man who carries the flowers to mar
ket."
Celeste raised Mortified hands: t.'The
black savagep'
sBlacA, but much less of savage
than some of us who have lily-white
hands. He was on his way home, and
Ninette begged So"
''She always begs so. Where was he
to leave the child?-bah!-for all the
world like an express package"
"He was to take her over to Glenbur-
ME, and you were to go for her. A
lovely short one-mile walk through the
most beautiful grove you ever saw, Co.
leste.'
81 abhor groves. Groves are only
meant for savages to live in. Glenbur-
ME! Glenburnie!' She repeated the
name musingly. "That is where the old
man lives who never comes down his
own stairway, but permits his beauti-
full young lady daughter to sacrifice her
self to him. M. Fairbanks. Bah, quelle
brute!''
"You have gathered information rap
Idly" said Nora, coldly. Eyes, it is there
that Ninette is waiting for you
s'And madame, then, will permit
the child to visit at the house Of an
enemy?"
MADAME" looked at the speaker
sharply. How many more family Sc
orets was this demure-looking cat al
ready in possession of?
are talking, Celeste!"
ISIS it nonsense, madame? Do not the
Lorimers and the Fairbanks hate each
ether? And does not every black man
and black woman on both places know
It? A woman, some say, is at the bot
tom of the trouble. I will fetch tho
child home, but I will not dare como
back by the public road, nor enter the
front door of White Cliffs and say: 4
have just brought the child from Glen
burnie.'"
.*Celeste, you are insufferable."
But, boldly as she uttered the rebuke,
conscience convicted Mrs. John of shar-
ing the woman's feelings. No more
words passed on the subject. Celeste
prepared for her walk with sulky activ-
ity. Nora watched her furtively. She
was sorry she had aroused the woman's
quick temper Ninette, ''poor little
angel" might suffer vicariously.
''And to Think she said aloud, as
Celeste left the room, closing the door
after her with significance force, that
l have, to-day, taken only the initial
step!'
She walked to side window to see if
Celeste had taken the right turn" after
getting into the road She stood there
idly staring out at the monotonous land
scape long after the woman had passed
entirely beyond her range Of vision.
She did not care to join the family
group downstairs. 1t was such an UNI
usual thing to see her without Ninette
that it might lead to announcement ques-
lions. AS she stood there, her husband
came into view from the side-porch, and
passed down the walk towards the small
gate which Celeste had just gone
through. -
He had on his corduroy hunting-suit.
His gun was slung across his shoulder,
and three dogs trotted close upon his
heels. His back was necessarily turned
towards her. She waited a kiss towards
him from the tips of her smooth white
fingers, then laughed softly at her own
folly:
'sPoor John! Poor old simple confd-
ing John! He melts me to pity. am IN
50 sorry for. him. !"
why she should have selected that
particular moment for so expressing
herself was known to herself alone.
John Lorimer did not look like FIT