Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1894-09-13

Il
| him about my rheumatism. He must
know good deal about my poor child. !"
Lord Clanyarde was with his daugh-
ter soon after breakfast next morning.
He found her in that pretty old-fash-
toned room which had heen Christa-
bles day nursery, and which had q
door Of Communication with Mrs. Sim
clair's dressing-room 1t was curious
angle Of the house OF the end Of the
nol tn wing, and was overlooked by the
oriel-window. Of Gilbert's study-which
occupied the opposite corner Of the
wing study par excellence, but dress
ing-room and gunnery in fact
Constance received her father with
affection, but he could not win her con-
fdence. 1t might be that she had
nothing to confde. She made no com.
plant against her husband.
"Why do | find you sitting here
alone, Constance, while the hou,e Is
full Of cheerful people?" asked Lord
Clanya"de. Il heard the bllliard-balls
going as came through the hall, early
as it is.
Gilbert likes company, and / do not, ;"
answered Constance, quietly. We
each take our own way"
THAT does not sound like q happy
union, pet, said her father.
did you expect me to be happy
with Gilbert Sinclair"
Yes, my love, or would never have
asked you to marry him. No, Con-
stance. OF course, it was an UNDER
stood thing with me that you must
marry we'll, as your sisters had done
before you; but meant you to marry
man who would make you happy; and
il find that Sinclair ill-uses you or
sights you, egad he shall have no
easy reckoning with me-"
My dear father, pray be calm. He
is very good to me. have never COM
plained-I never shall complain. try
to do my duty, for know that | have
done him wrong for which life of
duty and obedience can hardly atone"
"Wronged him. child? How have
you wronged him."
"By marrying him when my heart
was given to another"
~ onsense, pet; mere schoolgirl
penchant, If that kind of thing were
to count, there's hardly a wife living
who has not wronged her husband.
Every romantic girl begins by falling
in love with detrimental but the
memory of that juvenile attachment
has no more influence on her married
life than the recollection Of her favor
lie doll. You must get such silly no.
tions out of your head. And you
should try to be little more lively
join Sinclairs amusements. No man
likes a gloomy wife. And remember,
love, the past is pa5t-no tears can
bring back our losses. If they could,
hope would prevent our crying, as
somebody judiciously observes.
Constance sighed and was silent,
whereuron Lord Clanyarde embraced
his daughter t2nderly and departed,
feeling that he had done his duty. She
was-much depressed, poor child, but
no doubt time would set things right;
and as to Sinclairs ill-treating her,
that was out of the question. No man
above the working classes ill-uses his
wife nowadays. Lord Clanyarde made
quite light Of his daughters troubles
when he met Sir Cyprian at lunch.
Sinclair was good fellow at bottom,
he assured Sir Cyprian; q little too
fond of pleasure, perhaps but with no
harm in him, and Constance was in
clined to make rather too much fuss
about TIE loss Of her little girl
Sir Cyprian head this change of
tone in silence and was not convinced.
He contrived to see DR.. Webb, the
Maidstone surgeon, that afternoon.
He remembered the good natured lit
tie doctor as his attendant in many a
childish ailment, and was not aGrail Of
asking him question or two. From
him he heard very bad account of
Constance Sinclair. DIR. Webb pro-
fessed himself fairly bafled There
was no bodily ailment, except want Of
strength but there was a settled mel
ancholy, a deep and growing depres-
sion for which medicine was of no
avail.
You'll ask why don't propose get
ting a better opinion than my own, "
ga DR.. Webb, "and I'll tell you why.
| might call in hall the great mon in
London and be no wiser than | am now,
They would only make Mrs. Sinclair
more nervous and she IS very nervous
already. | am d faithful watchdog,
and at the first indication of danger |
shall take measures,
"You don't apprehend any danger to
the mind" asked Sir CJprian, anx-
iously
There is no imme late cause for
fear, But if this melancholy continues,
if the nervousness increases, cannot
answer for the result"
"You have told Mr., Sinclair as much
as this?"
Yes, | have spoken to him very
frankly"
1t would have been difficult tC
imagine life more solitary than that
which Constance Sinclair contrived tC
lead in a house full of guests For the
first two weeks she had bravely tried
to sustain her part as hostess; she haC
pretended to be amused by the amuse
ments of others, or, when unable tt
support even that poor stimulation, haC
sat at her embroidery frame and giver
the grace of her presence to the as.
sembly. But now she was fain to hide
herself all day long in her own rooms
or to walk alone in the fine old park
restricting her public appearance t.
the evening, when she took her place
at the head of the dinner-table anC
endured the frivolities of the drawing
room after dinner. Gilbert secretly
resented this withdrawal, and refused
to believe that the death of BABY
Christabel was his wife's soul cause o
grief. There was something deeper-t
sorrow for the pasta regret that was
. intensified by Sir Cyprians presence il
the naiuh h0rhood