The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1896-09-25

duchess any day? But never was wifi
so faithful and devoted t a husband
memory as she. How she must hav
loved him."
Duchess! Yes, she might have ha'
her choice of two or three coronets a
the least. Everybody knows how ou
best and noblest men have sued in vain
She wins almost as much admiration a
her daughter now"
Hush, they will hear you! Good af
ternoon."
"a fine day, Lady Annabel. l have
word for you from Bath"
The muff1ed figure bent forward We
farther. How the eye glittered with {
lustre feverish and unnatural!
Lady Annabel Collinwood, Eleanor's
mother"
AT the very name came the flood oil
Odd emotion, sweeping away the breast.
work that for five years of strenuous
toll, OF stupendous exertion, had been
closely guarded, lest a single wave
should overlap the restraining barrier.
No wonder Walter Vernon-Signor
Vermont he had allowed the Italians to
call him, and the name came with his
fame to England-no wonder he gazed
with b%reathless interest as the group
advanced. to see for the first time Lady
Annabel Collinwood!
He could have selected her from a
crowd of ladies as fair and graceful as
shea slender, pale-faced woman, with
a Well-bred, quiet grace, deep, mournful
eyes-not like Eleanor's, blue and
sunny, but dim and dark as the mid
night sea-, carrying with her a name
less, invisible and yet potent atmos-
phere of refinement and purity. This
he saw at first, but a second look show
ed him flashes of light co%rruscating
over the dim iris, and making the eye
Respondent; waves of rich thought
breaking over the symmetrical features,
and clarifying them with light and.
shade of eloquent meaning; smiles rare
and seldom, but wonderful and magical
when they came, arching into beauty
he lips that were Eleanor's own. He
felt at once the spell by which Lady
Annabel still swayed all hearts. al
though more than forty years had pass
ed over her smooth, fair forehead. She
was leaning lightly upon the dukes
arm, but her attention was given to the
young viscount, who "a relating in his
lively way the meeting with the cour-
teous admiral.
The tall figure and massive head of
the noble duke concealed the couple
who walked behind, and Walter was
obliged to wait until Lady Annabel and
her companion turned to the pictures
before he beheld her for whom his heart
had sighed so long.
Eleanor was only sixteen when they
parted upon the far-off Pacific. Five
years, replete with the important
change from girlhood to womanhood,
had passed-would she seem the same?
His beating heart nearly suffocated
him as Walter C more gazed upon
Lady Eleanor Collinwood.
All, the relief!-it was still his Ellie.
though the youthful grace and beauty
had ripened into matured perfection
though the slender form had grown
more stately, and the girlish difidence
had merged into a calm, self-possessed
dignity-a well-bred grace that the is
land experience could never have given
her. Still the soft blue eyes wore their
the sweet lips dimpled with the very
smile DOOR Tom had so often compared
to the first sunbeam that glistened
through the cloud over the sea, when
the "Petrel" lay a wreck among the
reefs.
How swiftly his pulse leaped, his eye
burned! Would that smile ever beam
for him again? Not a breath of intelli-
gence had passed between them since
their parting; fora all he knew she might
have forgotten his very existence. He
could test it speedily. And then, with
jealous rage, the unknown artist turned
to her companion, on whose handsome
face so plainly was written his devoted
admiration. There was a manly, high
bred air about him that pierced poor
Walter like a sword. He was good, he
was noble, he was worthy of her-that
could be read at a glance, No wonder
she listened so graciously to his anima-
ted words.
With a stifed groan Walter turned
away. Duke, marquis, noble lord
whichever he was, he had a right to
offer his homage and suit; but for the
plebeian painter, where was there any
hope, any plea whereby to win the favor
of that h%igh-born, ~aristocratic mother,
even though Eleanor herself were true
to that voluntary promise-"I will
wait for YOU?
The black folds of Lady Annabel's
dress swept across his feet, and while
the hot blood mounted his cheeks Wal
ter bent his head, as though his pre-
sumptuous thoughts were laid bare be-
fore that sad, dark eye.
Then a single word in Eleanor's we'll
known voice came to his cart was
hurried, agitated, vehement. So we'll
he understood every tone of that be-