Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1895-07-25
1K1~Y1l1G12
THE LITTLE MADCAP.
BY Emily Barton.

Philip Darke was the owner Of one
of the finest country seats In Wiscon-
sin. There were verdant meadows, TO
mantle Wales and wide stretches OF
forest.
Through the most secluded part OF
the timber a deep trout stream mean
dered aimlessly between banks firing
ed with ferns and flowers.
The we'll appointed stables, all neat
" painted red and white, and contain
ing some of the best horse flesh in the
state, were separated from the dwell
ings by beautiful orchard Of apples
and pears, at distance just remote
enough to prevent the noise Of the
horses from disturbing the slumbers
of the occupants Of the residence.
The dwelling was tastefully orna-
mental and very spacious, surrounded
by a piazza, upon which all the win.
dows Of the main floor opened.
Standing in one Of these open-door
windows now-one lying between the
softly carpeted and richly appointed
drawing room and the broad piazza
surrounding it-stood stylish woman
of thirty-two, with beautiful bul
rather selfish looking face.
She wore a magnificent negligee
gown of creamy silk and lace; dia-
monds and rubies flashed upon heI
white hands, but there was look OF
intolerance in her naughty eyes.
Those eyes were following an uncon.
scious pair carelessly vending their
way homeward across the sun-kissed
felds-only a girl and a dog. The
former little below medium height,
and slight, the latter a great, hand
some, shaggy Newfoundland.
They were on very good terms with
each other, for occasionally the girl
would bend down and the dog would
bound up; then there would be clear,
ringing laugh and a series of joyous
banks.
Mrs. Devereaux frowned Impatient
~ while they drew nearer and became
merrier in their gambols.
She was wondering If this girl, now
fast verging on womanhoOd, might not
interfere with the financial future OF
her own children-a boy Of twelve and
O girl of eight-whose voices came
buoyantly up from the stables, where
their Shetland ponies were installed.
Mrs. Devereaux was the widowed
sister of a wealthy Chicago broker,
and ever since her life had been spent
in a whirl of social fashions and
worldly ambitions, until now the fort
une her husband had left was we'll
nigh exhausted.
Had it not been for their wealthy
and lavishly generous bachelor uncle
she would have felt very much con-
cerned over the children's future.
Even as it was, she did sometimes.
What If he should ever marry? He
was not beyond the possibility of it,
surely, at forty -four. Still, she hadn't
much fear of that.
Phil had always been such an odd
fellow, and one love affair early in
life had ended disastrously; then he
swore he would never have another,
and he never had thus far, although it
was not the fault of his female ac-
Quaintances.
: What, though. is he should leave his
fortune, or most of it, to this wild
young thing, whose guardian he had
been ever since she was tiny mite of
three or four?
For all his lazy philosophy, he had a
warm, generous heart. He might have
grown to love this girl through asso-
citation; after all, she was the daugh-
ter Of his hapless early love-the or
phaned child of the woman for whose
sake he had turned from all other
women In disdain.
From her death-bed she had sent
her child to Philip Darke, charging
him to care for her as if she were his
own.
The selfishness of her charge had al
ways been a theme for scorn on Mrs.
Devereaux's part; but Philip had ac-
cepted it-whether with pleasure or
pain no one ever knew. For all his in
different exterior he was q man Of
iron will, and no one should ever again
see him moved like girl.
He sauntered lazily into the cool,
tree-shaded drawing room, even while
the frown still rested upon his hand
some worldly sisters brow.
She did not hear him on the deep
pile of the carpet until he reached her
side and threw one arm around her
waist.
Then she gave vent to shocked ex-i
clamation, not at this act, but at the
act of the girl she was keenly watch
ing. 5
"Gracious! Ernestino has vaulted,
the fence almost without an effort"
Philip smiled under his big brown
mustache and an amused twinkle
frightened his dark eyes.
"Ernestine? Oh. she Is an athlete
he responded, watching the slight dark
figure coming whistling up the lane
"She can send her brown mare over
any fence or ditch that can take
with Badger Bill, assure you. Not
in three minutes on her bicycle"