Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1895-04-10

She stood up, with her gray eyes
fixed upon her friend.
But the latter opened the drawing
room door and called softly to the foot
man, ''Somers, say Not at home -
"Yes, ma am
"And let me know at once who
called"
"Yes, ma'am.
The hall door opened and shut, and a
moment later the man entered with q
card. 1t bore the name Of Roger Slade,
and in the corner was inscribed in PEN
Gil, "P. P. c.
Mrs. Maine took the card thought
fully. Poor fellow!' said she. But
perhaps may make him happy tonight.
Oh, you are not going, BELIEF"
''Yes, dear. must run away, after
all. l have just remembered another
call meant to pay close by"
"nYou will pass him in his carriage
perhaps. Do peep and tell me if he is
looking sad. Write this evening and
,1teftme. /"
"I Will Goodby, darling"
And she kissed Mrs. Maine and went
out across the hall to her carriage.
As soon as Belle had gone Mrs. Maine
went up stairs, ordered her carriage, to
the dismay of her coaohman, aud wrap
ped herself in furs.
''Drive to Lambe's gallery, in Bond
street, she said as she got into the
brougham.
With some difficulty the coachman
found his way there, and Mrs Maine,
entering the gallery under the pretense
Of choosing some etchings, engaged in
conversation with one of the attendants,
a polite young man. whose one desire
in life seemed to be to afford his en-
ployer's customers exclusive infor1na-
tion on all matters connected with art.
lyon haven't any pictures by Roger
Slade for sale at present, | suppose?"
she asked eventually, with an affecta-
tion of careless indifference that she
was far from feeling.
No, they had none just then, she was
told.
81 hear his prices are going up. "
Mrs. Maine continued warmly.
To her surprise and delight the young
man acquiesced. Mr.. Slade's fame was
increasing rather than diminishing in
the art world, he declared. There was a
tremendous run on all his work, and
dealers were quite prepared to pay very
large sums for the smallest outcome of
his talent.
This was all that Mrs. Maine desired
to know, and she drove home well
pleased, but trifle puzzled.
81 wonder how Belle came to make
such mistake" she thought 'There
is evidently nothing of the waning &C.
lebrity about my lover. y
She picked up his card again in the
drawing room and smiled as she looked
at the ''P. p c. in the corner.
81 wonder what he felt like when he
stood ON my doorstep ard wrote those
three letters?" she said to herself.
"Well, after dinner 1 will sit down and
write him a note that will put him out
of his misery. wonder if Belle saw
him as she was going away and whether
she will send around to tell me how he
looked?''
But no communication arrived from
the Comtesse de Rinski, apd Mrs. Maine
could only so on wondering.
It was just after o'clock when she sat
down to write to the artist. She had
thought things thoroughly over and had
made up her mind that she was tired Of
being widow, and that Roger Slade
would be the ideal husband, handsome,
affectionate, and, best of all, successful.
Yet she was assured of that last and
most important fact now, and the as
surance made her eyes glitter with eager
ness and her cheek flush as she picked
up pen and drew sheet of paper to-
ward her.
"My dear Mr.. Slade," she wrote,
and then she was interrupted by the en-
trance of the footman with salver.
''A note for you, ma'am," he said.
"There is no answer.
Mrs. Maine took it up and saw that
the address was in Roger Slade's hand
writing.
She smiled. "He has reconsidered his
p. P. c., she thought, land written
again to beg me to marry him. How he
loves me!'' And she tore the note open
and read it swiftly:
DEAR Mrs. MAINE-As / was leaving your
door this afternoon, after receiving your reply
to my letter, encountered your friend, tho
Comtcsse Ge Einsid, who tcld me she had just
been with you. She drove mo home, and some
how was moved to tel L.r of my trOuhle--a
I
hope forever. Although she stood up for you
in your strange, and-forgive me for saying it
cruelty heartless conduct toward me as a
friend should, l could see that had all her wo-
manly sympathy, and-well. to make a long
story short asked her to give it to me for all
time. At first she refused absolutely. She said
that it was impossible after what / had just
told her BJ,t at last she consented to be my
wife-out of pity perhaps. Yet pity often grows
into love. She is a true woman. Give me
your congratulations. That is all ask of you.
Yours sincerely, ROGER SLADE.
Mrs. Maine stood still by the table
with the letter in her hand. Her face
was very white. Then she let it slip to
the floor as she murmured with trem-
bling lips: A true womanl Yes, and
the richest woman in London!'
A new thought seemed to strike her,
and che shudde1ed as if with cold as
she added in whisper, "And she kissed
me as she entl''-London World.
Disputed Discovery.
The man does not live, perhaps, who
has tho least idea of the name OF the
discoverer of the properties and ingredi-
ents of gunpowder, or who can tell
within 500 or 1000 years the date OF
its discovery. I have recently read both
sides of the gunpowder controversy as
it has appeared in a New York daily
(where one writer argues that the dis
coverer was Roger Bacon, while the
other declares that history supports the
assertion that Michael Schwartz, Ger
man monk, deserves the praise). 1t ap-
pears to me that the controversy IN ref
erence to Bacon versus Schwartz is OF
secondary importance, especially when
it is known that it was in use hundreds
of years before the birth of either.
Rziha has compiled long chrono-
logical history of this useful explosive,
of which the following is an abridge-
ment:
julius Africanus (215 A. d. gives a
splendid formula for the preparation OF
gunpowder.
In the year 900, when the Arabs bonn
barded Mecca, they used firearms.
A Greek manuscript by Marcus Grac-