Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1895-12-26

bosom, where the vivid tint gave life
and fire to the creamy paleness of her
complexion and the somber luster of
her eyes.
Beside Constance Esler's exotic
beauty little Lady Frances" as she
was often called, looked like a dainty
wild flower. She was a charming lit
tie creature, fresh and unspoiIed, with
delicate but irregular features, a win
ming smile, vivacious hazel eyes and
waving HOMEGROWN hair, apparently
much more of a child than a Con-
stance, but in reality a few months
older. She was dressed in the plain
est of white frocks and her straw hat
was trimmed only with a white silk
bow, her hair was loosely looped I'D
. by a pink ribbon and she wore pink
sash around her waist. If Constance
tried to look like woman, it was just
evident that Lady Frances mother
wanted her daughter to look a perfect
child. 1t was always said IN the
county that the countess of Stevenage
was most sensible woman.
The nimble tongue of little Lady
Frances did most of the talking dur
ing that drive to Aldersleigh manor,
where Col. Fanbrugh, by Lady Steven
ages advice, was giving small and
select garden party. He had been at
home now for two months, and had
received and accepted a great many
invitations, although not as many
Lady SteVenage said-as were his due
1t was quite certain that the county
had hesitated a little about receiving
him. In one or two quarters he met
with curious GOODNESS, but when Lady
SteYenage, who was a very old friend,
showed herself conspicuously cordial,
others followed her lead and the col
onel had no real cause to complain of
avoidance or dislike.
Why should there be either? So
Lancelot asked himself more than
once, as he watched with eager open
eyes, seeing more sometimes than his
father saw, more than his father per-
haps wanted him to see. But both
did exist; and in Lady Stevenage's
cordially there was touch of cham
pionship, almost of defiance, which
Lancelot resented without being able
to understand.
4 suppose you don't mean to en-
terrain very largely" Lady Steven
age had said.
How can I?' asked Col. Vanbrogh,
with a dry little smile
mot very easily, without woman
at the head OF the house. Have you
no relation, Roger-no aunt or cousin
who could come and do the honor for
your"
It seemed natural to her to call him
Roger, she had done so all her life.
The colonel shook his head.
Not one-Who would come"
That is a pity-and such a mis-
take" Then she drew a shade closer
to him and spoke in a lower voice: els
there no chance? = no reconciliation
possible? I used to know Venetia.''
Lancelot was standing near. He saw
his father put out his hand in evident
warning; he saw the countess start and
glance in his direction He did not
need a further hint, he hurried away.
But his heart was full of doubt, of
wonder, of shamed and wounded pride.
For he saw very plainly that there was
some mystery in his fathers life,
which he was not to know. And mys-
teries were hateful to him and not to
be endured.
But the garden party was decided up
on and the guests were asked and
among them Col Vanbrugh insisted
upon numbering Constance Esler and
Francis Aylmer; because, he said, they
were old friends of his already. lie
had known them as children in short
frocks, as babies in arms. And Lance
lot had known them all his life.
Il wonder who will be there" said
Lady Frances. cob, l am SO glad
mother let me come. [ was so afraid
that we should have to go back to
school before today, weren't you, Con-
nie?"
Il don't know that [ cared" answer
ed Constance, calmly. "It is only a
garden party after all. But you care
for everything, Frances"
Il suppose [ do" said Frances, hum
bly,. Il always like a bit of fun -
when one can get it,
There is little of it to get at old
Joyce's,' said Miss Esler.
Lady Frances looked away and bit
her lip. She had been taught to treat
her teachers with respect, and it made
her uncomfortable to hear Constance
talk of "old Joyce" But she reflected
sagely that Constance had no mother
to tell her what was right and what
was wrong.
To Be Continued
PASSING OF THE NEW WEAR