Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1897-08-14
ter days In confidence to

worth and her better days in confidence to
some Of the guests. .sssss
"A most deserving creature aid Miss
| de Laine to the Dowager Duchess Of Soho.
who was passing through Paris ON her way
to England, you would hardly believe that
poppa knew her father when he was one
OF the richest men in South Carolina %
your father seems to have been very for
tunate, said the duchess quietly, "and SO
are you. Introduce me-. This not being
exactly the reply that Miss de Lame ex-
pected, she momentarily hesitated, but the
duchess proflted by 1t to walk over to the
piano and introduce herself. When she
rose to go she invited Helen to lucheon
with her the next day. Come early, my
pointed out hesitatingly that she was prac-
tical!y a guest Of the De LANES. "Ah,
Wen! that's true. my dear; then you may
bring one of them with you.''
| accompanied. She had long talk with the
dowager. Il am not rich, my dear, like
your friends, and cannot afford to pay you
ten napoleons for song. Like you. have
seen better days. But this is no place for
YOU. child-and If you can bear with an
old woman's company for a while, / think
l can find you something to do" That
evening Helen left for England with the
cacy, and shameless snobbery" which Miss
de Lame was never weary of dilating upon
And to thinker introduced her. though she
was professional"
1t was three years after Paris reviyins
under the republic had forgotten Helen and
| the American colony; and the American col
ony emigrating to more congenial courts,
had forgotten Paris.
1t was a bleak day of English summer
when Helen, standing by the window of
the breakfast room at Hamley Court and
looking over the wonderful lawn, kept per-
ennially green by humid English skies,
heard the practical masculine voice of the
duchess in her ear, at the same moment
that she felt the gentle womanly touch of
Fer hand on her shoulder. I'VE are going
TO luncheon at Moreland Hall today my
dear"
Why, we were there only last weekw
said Helen.
Undoubtedly" returned the duchess dry
ly, and we may luncheon there next week
and the next following. And she added,
looking into her companions gray eyes,
1t rests with you to stay there if you
choose" Helen stared at her protector
My dear" continued the duchess slipping
her arm around Helen's waist "Sir James
has honored meas became my relations
to you-with his condolences. As you
haven't given me yoursI suppose you
nave none, and that l am telling you news
ry you'
The unmistakable astonishment in the
g1rls eyessatisfied the duchess even before
her voice.
But he scarcely knows me or anything
OF me-, said the young girl quickly
On the contrary, my dear, he knows
everything about you. I have been par
ucular In telling him all 1 knew-and some
things even you don't know and couldn't
| tell him. For instance, that you are a very
! nice person. Come, my dear, don't look so
| stupeiied or l shall really think there's
something in it that don't know. It's rot
! laughing nor crying matter yet-at
| present It's only luncheon again with a
| civil man who has three daughters and a
place In the county. Don't make the mis-
take however, of refusing him before he
ofers-Whatever you do afterward."
But stammered Helen.
But-you are going to say that you
don't love him and have never thought of
him as a husband interrupted the
| duchess: Il read it in your face-and it's a
| very proper thing to say
1T is So unexpected urged Helen.
Everything is unexpected from man in
| these matters said the duchess. I'VE wo-
| men are the only ones that are prepared"
But" persisted Helen, 'if 1 don't want
| to marry at ALP
II should say then that it is a sign that
| you ought: If you were eager, my dear, l
| should certainly dissuade you" She paus-
| ed, and then drawing Helen closer to her,
| said with a certain masculine tenderness:
| "As long as live, dear, you know that you
| have a home here. But / am an old woman
| living on the smallest of settlements. Death
| is as inevitable to me as marriage should
| be to you"
| Nevertheless they did not renew the con-
| versation and received the greetings of
| their host at Moreand Hall with SIM
| plicity and frankness that were however,
] perfectly natural and unaffected in both
women. Sir James-a tall, well-preserved
man of middle age, with the unmistakable
| bearing of long years of recognized and
unchallenged position-however, exhibited
| on this occasion that slight consciousness
! of weakness and susceptibility to ridicule
| which is apt to indicate the invasion of the
| tender passion in the heart of the average
BritOn, His duty as host toward the elder
woman of superior rank, however, covered
his embarrassment, and for a moment left
Helen quite undisturbed to gaze again upon
| the treasures of the long drawing room of
| Moreland Hall, with which she was already
| familiar. There were the half dozen old
| masters whose responsibility had been as
| recognized through centuries as their own
| er's ancestors: there were the ancestors
| themselves - wigged, ruff1ed and white
! handed by Vandyke, Lely, Romney and
| pressionless ancestresses in stiff brocade or
| short-waisted clinging draperies, but all
possessing that brilliant coloring which the
gray skies outside lacked, and which seem
| ed to have departed from the dresses of
| their descendants.
The American girl had sometimes specu-
| lated upon what might have been the APP
pearance Of the lime tree walk dotted with
! these gayly plumaged folk, and wondered
X the tyranny Of environment had at last
feeling touched her. Like most of her
countrywomen, she was strongly affected
by the furniture of life; the thought that
all that she saw there might be hers; that
strange courtiers and stranger shepherd
esses, and, like them, look down from the
| canvas upon the i1truding foreigner. thrill
ed her for a moment with a half proud,
seemed to be her fate. narrow-eyed
stiff haired Dutch maid Of honor before