The Washington times., 1894-10-07

stomach. Secondly, comes the moral duty
Of hospitality. or that stands first, perhaps;
who knows?
Mr.. Wentworth presented an admirable ap-
pearance when he finally entered the draw
ing room; his tailor would have wept tears of
Joy TO see how greatly the beauty OF sartorial
handiWork became. and possibly improved
the manly form and grace of the silent squire.
But. my dear Lawrence said Mrs. Mar
shall, ''the soup must be quite tepid.'
She cast a look of reprOach at her brother.
Sho rose hastily, in her rustling black silk
from the sofa. Surely it was unciyil of him
TO be so late, she thought.
A tall. slight figure beside her rose also
Here were none of the smart clothes which
Mr. Wentworth had GROSSLY expected to see
0nlya plain. high, dark costume-gingham,
or some such stuff.
MY box was left behind-it was our fault
my maids and mine, said a musical
voice, somewhat spasmoCicaly. ''and so
thought I'd better not dress. l was afraid of
keeping Mrs. Marshall" p"
The ''only man" bowed silently and offered
his arm. Rose placed a hand within that
arm. and was led to the dining-room. Il
did not like at once to object to being treated
like a visitor she afterwards explained to
her hostess.
Her host had honored her with one quick
glance. Pretty" he asked himself "Yes,
OF cOuTSb. dls llllS are pTtJIy: OIleEWlS6 IuBy
wouldn't have the chance.
Mr. Wentworth considered himself, above
all things a gentleman; consequently the
evening passed with such amlable decorum of
speech and manner as fuctuates betwixt 20
liteness and boredom. He spoke Just enough
during dinner to offer the chief delicacies to
his guest: he made two remarks concerning
the weather another with regard to the slow
ness OF country trains. crosS-Ilnes especially.
He listened with apparent Difference and a
shade-a gentle shade-of interest TO the
spasmodic conversation which passed be-
tween the ladies. After dinner he, with indo-
lent graciousness, exhibited a number of
photographs; some were family portraits
yellow hkenesses of persons in old-time cos
tums; some were Alpine views. (The former
made the guest laugh; the latter forced from
her more than one stihed yawn.) Finally,
the master of the house lit the young lady's
bedroom candle with precisely that amount
of alacrity which evinces chivalrous attentive
ness but not unseemly Joy. Then. when the
girl had walked away and was well out of
view. he turned with sigh to his sister, and
muttered:
Does she mean to stay long?"
''BIy dear Lawrence. Why, nothing is set
tied, of course. The poor dear must recover
her spirits. 1 thought you seemed to Get on
beautifully with her.
''Oh. did you?"
And she is Wretched at home because of
that step-mother.'
"Oh, is she.
':Why, told you about it before Really,
Lawrencep'
Always the fault of the young people in
those cases, " growled the squire, lighting his
own candle.
Meanwhile Miss Berners was comb1ng out
her locks upstairs.
To her went kind Mrs. Marshall.
Il do nope you are not tired, darling'
'.Oh mol How good you are to mel And
isn't it funny should know you SO well and
never have seen your brother?''
''Not so very odd, dear. You see, Lawrence
scarcely ever moves from here, and you have
never been to this place. But now you have
come"
Like Mahomet and the mountain.
murmured Miss Rose. "And he's so unlike
you, isn't hep
''Who, dear-who?"
"Why, your brother. You look century
younger, TO begin with. and then-then--I
hope haven't disturbed him-do you think?''
"'No,' answered Mrs. Marshall shortly. It
was she who seemed disturbed