The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-06-28

fair as a lily in face, and with eyes that
looked one through and through, but at
! the same time that seemed TO invite your
trust and confidence. Etheldene was high
ly cultured. Allan O'Den believed she
was clever enough to do anything. l shall
only give one example, but it is highly
characteristics. She took fancy to Al
lan's stockings. Such strong, warm, rib
bed articles would suit her papa wonder
! fully we'll as he wore knicker-bockers
Well, she borrowed a stocking. Would an
English girl have dared to make so strange
a request2 She went to the village shop
where her pretty unaffected talk and her
beauty so confused and dazzled the worthy
worsted vendor, that I'm sure he couldn't
have told whether his boots or his bonnet
was Iuppermost. He recommended her to
BUY 'teeling Worsted, instead of whin-
gering, miss" and blushed to the hair
because he had meant to say wheeling"
and lingering" But Etheldene bought
her worsted and carried away her pur-
chase in triumph. Next she sought out
an old Highland woman, who taught her
the right way to knit and round in the heel
ana toes, take in for ankle, and let out for
calf. This old dame was also bewitched
by Etheldene, and declared she was an
angel from heaven in human form. And
now In her walks with Allan she took that
great clumsy stocking with her and it
really was curious to hear her talking
or Browning and other great poets, her
Wondrous but quiet little Rotations keep
ing time to the click-click of her knitting
needles. Is IL any marvel that Allan
ODell lay in the messy woods at her feet
-entranced, and for the most part silent?
One evening Etheldene sat knitting
thus close by the silent stem of a tall
birch tree, with Allan lying close be-
side her, as usual The Irish setter was
near the two, and close adjoining was a
thicket of spruce. They had been listen
ing for some time to the sweet low Tilt
OF a blaekhird which, no doubt, had its
nest in the thicket, when suddenly, with
a startled cry, It flew over their heads.
kooran sprang up with warning bark.
Never mind the bird, Kooran," said
Allan, holding him gently down.
At the same moment, from the lake
side, Mr.. Talbot himself sauntered up to-
wards them
What heavenly evening"" he said. q
say, Ethfe, girl wouldn't Minton enjoy
day or two in this lovely placer"
Perhaps, but 1 doubt it."
Suppose, girl, we write him to
"Oh, papa" cried Etheldene, laughing
merrily, pray don't. You would drive
all the romance out of the glen. 1 shall
have quite enough Of Minton after I mar
~ him."
Irish settlers have quick ears Kooran,
| though prisoner, gave vent to low
growl, and certainly none save he heard
the sound OF retiring footsteps, going far
ther and farther away from the thcket
of spruce.
Minton had been there, and had over
heard Etheldeness words. How he came
| to be housekeeping in that clump of
tree is not difficult to explain.
There Is another woman in my play
| there generally is that other woman in
love story-but she hardly comes on the
stage at all, but does her part behind it.
Name, Miss Matilda Slater; age, uncer-
tain appearance, tall, lean rather, and
not devoid of good looks, with eyes that
Art had lent lustre to, and cheeks like
roses, and lips like cherries. Art again?
Perhaps, but charity covers a multitude
Of rouged cheeks and painted lips. Ma
tilda was, or had been, in London, Ethel
dene's bosom friend o, she dearly loved
Etheldene, as will be seen. But she had
set her cap at Minton, and isn't every
thing fair in love and war?
Now, Minton, although reputedly rich
was perhaps the meanest little man that
had ever been cast on our shores from
America. Devoid of SOUL scant in INTEL
lect, with not one redeeming point in his
character, unless love for our beautiful
heroine may reckon as one; but this love
of his was selfish in the extreme
Etheldenes letters to Matilda from
Scotland ought perhaps to have been con.
sidered private. They were not, of course
marked so, and they were like Ethel
dene herself-innocent and natural. They
were loud in the praises of the romantic
glen, the old mansion house, with it's
beautiful grounds, and-yes, the truth
must be told, her Highland hero, as she
called Allan O'Dell.
When Minton paid a visit one even
ing to Miss Slater, he found her alone in
her boudoir, charmingly dressed, and loli-
ing with letter in her hand in a rocking
chair.
Minton could see-it was intended that
he shouldn't the letter was from Eth
eldene, and 1t was but natural that he
should refer to it.
oh" Matilda said, II must not show
It all to you but, really, Charles, your
hancee Is dear, loving girl you ought
to be so happy. A little too romantic
and impulsive, perhaps. but then-Wen
she is such a child, you know. 1t will
be all so different by and by"
Ana Matilda had read enough of that
letter to fire Minton's blood with ieal-
ousy, and with wrath as we'll
Curse him. he cried, when he found
himself once more back in his cham
hers. Curse the Scottish lout But I'll
see for myself
He rose from a sleepless couch next
day., looking haggard and worn. He
stuck his pistol in his hip pocket, in
true South American fashion, and swag-
gered off to St. Pancras.
He travelled 10 Edinburg in propria per-
soma, but there he disguised himself as
brown-beared observation-disclosures was
mean enough for anything-and so made
his way to the glen.
It was his luck to be hiding in the
thfcket on the particular evening re-
ferred to above, though he had seen
enough before this to raise in his heart
perfect frenzy Of hate and jealousy.
Curse MIN and curse her." he NUT
tered to himself, as Etheldene's silvery
laugh rang in his ears. She'll have
He fingered his revolver nervousiy. Then
replaced II and quietly left the copse He
had gained a victory over self
But the next day, by the merest chance
of course, he had caught from a distance
glimpse or his Etheldene actually held