Griggs courier., 1895-11-15
IA COMMONPLACE TRAGEDY.

A WHMONPLACE TkAGEDY.
Tho sun shone high In the blue
heavens; the soft, fragrant air, heavy
with the scent of roses and carnations,
stirred the creepers on the low, white
house, signing family through the
trees 1T the bottom of the velvety-
terraced lawns which sloped down to
the edge of the miniature lake, SHIN
mering in the hot July sunshine.
Through the trees walked stifay tall,
broad shouldered specimen of the
stronger sex, with q long, military
stride, whistling carelessly as he skirted
the lake and disappeared into the
tangled wood path. As he passed out
OF sight woman came slowly up the
green terraces, pausing as she reached
the top to glance back at the retreating
figure in the distances; then she turned
away, with little impatient gesture,
gothering the soft folds of her dress
together as she mounted the wide,
shallow steps and sauntered slowly
along the shadowy shrubbery path,
where the leafy branches met over
head, forming natural avenue of cool,
delicious shade. She sat down wearily
on the rustic seat at the far end of the
mossy path, resting her head against
the old tree at her back, the dark shad-
owy background throwing into strong
relief the slight, gray figure, with the
small head proudly erect, crowned with
masses Of golden-brown hair, curly and
soft, forming a dark setting for the pale
face, out of which shone those glorious
dark gray eyes, with deep violet tinge
in them, just now filed with an over
powering weight of weariness and
agony of disappointment.
"He never cared" she said to herself;
''are his eyes so blinded that he cannot
zee the truth for himself?"
Her bosom heaved under the soft,
silky folds Of her cool gray dress; her
hands were tightly clasped before her
Suddenly her whole attitude changed
and relaxed, and she resumed her old
careless posture; maid came down
the path, with Q silver salver in her
hand, on which reposed a card. The
woman glanced at the name inscribed
thereon-''Lord Bennington"
II will come in," and the maid re-
turned to the house. She sat notion
less for an instant, then rose quickly,
rs if some sudden determination had
seized her. A scornful smile curved
her red lips, as she walked into the
cool, shadowy drawing-room, through
the open French window. As she
entered q man advanced quickly to
meet her; he seized both her hands in
his, saying, passionately:
Ruth, I have come for my answer.
What Is it to be?''
She turned her head for an instant
and looked out into the sunlit garden,
down to the dark shady wood, with the
lake dancing in the hot sunshine; then
she looked back into the dark, hand
some face of the man before her.
1T is to be-yes," she said, in her
clear, cool voice, with no trace of emo
ton; but she shuddered involuntarily
as she was clasped in her lovers arms.
That was the first act of the tragedy.
The curtain rises on the second act.
Ruth, Lady Bennington, whose unemo-
tional, tragic beauty has taken the
world OF fashion by storm, is seated in
her fower-scented boudoir; she has not
altered much during the last two years;
her beauty is still marvellous as ever,
unspoiled by all the turmoil of a Lon
don season, where the world has bowed
down to the new beauty. At first, to
her unsophisticated mind, the intoxi-
eating whirl of ceaseless gayeties was
1T once pleasant and novel, but now
abe Is heartily tired of it; she is filled
with an intense, mad longing to revisit
the old home in the quiet, peaceful
country-the old-fashioned garden, the
tangled wood and the lake, glimmering
under q cloudless, dazzling sky-how it
al comes back to her, food Of bitter
memories. A warm breeze steals in at
the open windows, blowing out the
long flmy curtains, and bearing q
Whit Of mignonette from the flower
Allied balcony.
The door opens and q man enters.
At the sight of him Ruth rises, with a
suppressed cry, pale to the very lips.
She holds out her hand.
"Capt. Tremayne!" she says, "this is
Indeed surprise! I had no idea that
you had returned"
The visitor holds her hand in his, let
ting his eyes rest on the pale, lovely
face for q moment; then they both sit
down.
He is the first to speak.
II only arrived in England few days
ego, and being in town, seized the
nrst opportunity to call on you, tor the
sake OF 'auld lang syne.'"
Ruth smiles and slowly unfurls her
Feather fan; the heat is terrific.
"You are very kind" she says; land
7 am more than pleased to see YOU. Two
years have passed since we last met:
am I much altered?"
She looked straight at him inquirinqly.
and the look sends hot thrill through
his whole being.
"You ere more beautiful" he says,
Alowly.
This seriously spoken speech causes a
little ripple Of light laughter to break
from Ruth, as she slowly fans herself.
"You have grown complimentary
during your two years. absence on for