Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1894-12-20

He gave the directions to the driver,
and the man pulled up his tirea horses
before one of the stately palaces OF the
past.
An Italian man servant admitted
them to the anteroom layishly decora-
ted with pictures and bric-a-abrac q
room in which / ord Clanyarde had
eaten Neapolitan ices or slipped coffee
on those Saturday evenings which
Mrs. Walsingham had made so agree
able TO him. He had never seen the
room empty before tonight, and it
had singularly desolate look to his
fancy in the Kicker ng light Of a pair
of wax candles that had burned down
to the sockets of the Pompeian bronze
.candlesticks on the velvet draped
mantelpiece.
Tow is your mistress?' Lord Clan
yarde asked, eagerly, The Italian
shrugged his shoulders.
Alas, eXcellency, it goes always the
same. She still exists, that is all"
Tell her Mrs, Sinclair has come
from Switzerland in the hope OF see.
ing her.
The Italian mmoned Mrs. Walsing-
hams maid, who requested Constance
to come at once to the sick-room. She
was expected. B 1t she must prepare
herself to be shocked by Mrs. Walls
ingham's appearance. Her end seemed
near
you had better 90 to your hotel,
papa, said Constance. IL may have to
stay here long time. You can come
back for me by and by"
On reflection Lord Clanyarde consid-
cred this the best arrangement He
really wanted his dinner Indeed, he
had never yet found any crisis in life
so solemn as to obliterate that want,
The servant led the way through q
suite of reception rooms to tall door
at the en1 of spacious saloon. This
opened into Mrs. v alsingham's bed
room, which was the last room on this
side of the house; q noble chamber,
with windows ooking two ways one
toward the hills, the other over the
stately roofs and temples of the city,
Both windows were wide open, and
there was no light in the room save
the rosy glow of sunset, The bed was
In an alcove, unanimously draied with
amber damask and Roman lace Mrs.
Walsingham was in sitting position,
propped up with pillows, facing the
sun glow beyond the purple hills.
There was a second door opening
onto the staircase, and as Constance
entered, some one-a man-left the
room by this door, She supposed that
this person must be one of Mrs. Wal
singham's medical attendants. The
doctors were lowering about her no
doubt, in these last hours.
You have come, gasped the dying
woman, thank God! You can go, Nor
ris, /" to the maid; Il will ring il want
you, Come here, Mrs, Sinclair. Sit
down by my side, There is no time to
lose. My breath fails me very often.
You must excuse-be patient"
Pray do not distress yourself, said
! Constance, seating herself in the chair
beside the bed; 81 can stay as long as
you like. :"
"How gently you speak to me! but
you don't know. You will look at me
Inherently presently-not with those
compassionate eyes. / am an awful
saectacle. am | notifying death.
Would you believe that was once a
beauty? SAINT painted my portrait
when we were both at our best" with
a bitter little laugh.
Il have not lost an hour in coming To
you. Ii you have done me a wrong that
you can by any means atone for, pray
do not lose time"
Death is waiting at my door. Yes,
I must be quick But it is so horrible
to talk OF it, such mean low treachery
Not great revenge, piUiful, paltry
act Of spitefulness. Oh, if you knew
how | loved Gilbert Sinclair, how
firmly | believed in his love-yes, and
he was fond of me, unit, the lucklesa
day you crossed his path and stole his
heart from me.
Il never knew" faltered Constance.
mo; you wronged me ignorantly, bat
that did not m Ike my loss lighter tc
bear | hated you for 1t. Yes | mea s.
ured my hatred for you by my love for
him. Life was int lerab e to me with.
out him, and one day vowed that !
would make your lie intolerable to
you. was to d hat you we making
an idol of your child, that your happi-
ness wa, bound up in that baby ex-
istence, and | resolved that the child
should be taken from YOU"
Wretch cried Constance, starting
up in sudden horror. "You were there
at Schoenesthal; you pushed her
down the steps. 1t was not an acct
dent -"
mo, no. l was not quite so bad as
that; not capab Of TAXI 9 that sweet
young life. 10 take her from you, that
was enough. To make your days mis-
cradle, to make you drink the cup of
tears, as hal done, because of you;
that was my end and aim. | found a
willing tool in your French nurse-maid
"a skhlful C adjutor in James Wya t,
Everything was well planne1. The girl
had LEAF ned to swim, the year before,
at Ostend, and was not afraid to plunge
into the river when she saw some one
coming. This gave a look of reality
to the business. | met Melanie Duport
at the ruins that September morning,
and took your baby from her. | car
ried her away in my wn arms to the
! place where carriage was waiting for
me, and drove straight to Baden and
from Baden travelled as fast as could
to Brussels keeping the baby in my
own charge all the while"
She was not drowned, then. Thank
! God! thank God cried Con lance,
sinking on her knees beside the bed,
and lifting up her heart in praise and
thanksgiving. Of Mrs. Walsingha as
! guilt--of the vain sorrow she had en-
dured- she hardly thought in this mo-
ment OF delight.
Where she, my dar ing, my angel?
What have you done with her? Where
have you hidden her all thi time?