The Wichita daily eagle., 1897-09-03
The Cloud That Passed.
"a story by Amelia Hutchinson Sterling
in the English magazine McMiIan's. In
five parts)

PART I.
There were only three in the compart-
ment as the train sped southwards over the
great plain of northern Italy-the husband,
the wife, and the Frenchman.
The lady sat in the right-hand-corner fac
ing the engine, gazing out on the SUM-
bathed landscape, as if she dreaded to miss
the minutest detail of the scenery. In her
cheeks was the rosy flush OF morning; in
her blue eyes the reflection OF the sky OF
I.aly-that sky whose radiant intensity OF
blue seems to be the expression TO the eye
of youth and poetry and passion. Her
heart beat high within her; II seemed to
Der as if for the first time in her elght
and thirty years she knew the JOY OF
drawing long breath.
George Lamont her husband, looking up
at her from the pages of the inevitable
"Baedeker," could hardly believe that THIS
radiant creature was the placid, sedate wife
who, for the last ten years, had darned
his socks, and sewed on his buttons, and
ordered the small household in the tiny
brick-buslt house at Hackney Bewilder-
ed by the strangenesS o( everything, op-
pressed by a sense of responsibility which
his narrow life had hardly prepared him
TO bear easily he could not share in her
exhilaration With a puzzled sigh he turn
ed away his eyes from her face; but ere
he could lower them over his book again
they were arrested by the look on the race
of the Frenchman who was sitting opposite
her-a look Of undisguised, and, as George
said to himself, almost insulting, admira-
ton It was with a clouded brow tnat
he once more bent over his "Baedeker.
Presently he was aroused by question
from his wife.
George" she was saying. tell me,
wasn't it Caesar who fought the battle OF
Favia, or was it Napoleon"
She spoke in a dreamy tone, In wnlch
there was no trace Of mauvaise honte. Shc
knew that the names of both those great
generals were associated with the plains or
northern Italy; and as to the question OF
tfme-weil, she had been only four-and-
twenty hours in Italy, but already she had
begun to feel, as we all do in that land OF
history, a sense Of the insignificance or
time, which seems to bring the events or
twice ten hundred years ago as near TO US
as those from which We are not yet sepa-
rated by a century.
George coughed in an embarrassed way.
He was a hard-working, studious man, but
bis studies were all directed along one mar
row line; he was a specialist in zoology,
and his days were spent in researches as TO
the nature and habits Of what Priscilla,
his wife, called little beasts" and IN CIV
ing lectures at South Kensington.
"Caesarv' he exclaimed, to gain time,
while he endeavored surreptitiously to turn
up his "Baedeker." 81 think you are going
rather too far back, PRISCILLA"
The Frenchman anticipated "Baedeker.
Perhaps madame means the battle IN
which Francis I. was taken prisoner" he
suggested in tolerably good English.
Nothing could have been less intrusive
or more respectful than his manner; but
a dark flush of anger arose in George La
mont's pale students face as he sank back
in his seat and buried himself deeper than
ever In his guide-books. He had noted that
the F'renchman had kept stroking his
moustache for some seconds, and he had
seemed to catch q glimpse of a mockins
smile in the corners of what he chose to
call to himself 1.-The fellows wicked eyes,
only he qualified the noun with another
and stronger adjective which It is usually
forbidden to set down in writing. AS he
sat with head bent over his books, inwardly
cursing all Foreigners" and this French
man in particular, the cloud which was to
darken the sky of husband and wife was
gathering and spreading. His responses to
PriscilIas rapturous CALCULATIONS became
gradually shorter and drier; and when, in
the fulness of her heart, she stretched out
her hands toward him behind the screen
afforded by pile of books lying on the
seat between them, he did not condescend
to see IL.
AS she 1lurriedly drew It back, Priscilla's
eyes fell for an instant on the Frenchman's
face, and the expression In It told her that
he had seen both the overture and the re-
pulse. The warm blood mounted high N
her cheeks; then she turned towards the
window. and became apparently more than
ever interested in the scene outside. When
her husband looked up a few minutes later,
he almost gnashed his teeth to see how
near the two heads were to each other, as
Priscilla and the Frenchman, from their
respective corners, leaned towards the win
dow. while the latter pointed out innumera-
bic objects OF interest and volubly impaired
information, the truth Of which George
very much suspected.
He endured in silence as long as he could,
and when the desire to speak became over
mastering, he made a valiant attempt to
convict the Frenchman out Of the mouth
Of ''Baedeker."
"Oh, Baedeker," was the contemptuous
reply, accompanied by a wave Of the hand
ana shrug of the shoulders that seemed
to dispose of the faithful guide. ''The de-
votion Of you other English to Baedeker Is
truly wonderful! But, enfin, the worthy
German Is only mortal like us others"
Once more George was driven to take
refuge IN his books.
Meanwhile the scene outside was chang
ing: the great plain was rapidly disappear
ing. while from east and west low hills,
covered with a parched brown growth,
seemed 10 be drawing ever closer together,
as II they sought to bar the Journey south
wards. Soon, on right and left, they slcped
down to ths railway line. clothed here and
there with plantations of lemon-trees.
Priscilla gave httle cry Of delight as she
caught sight OF the yellow fruit amid the
glossy green leaves.
'Ah, yes. We are IN the land OF the lem
on tree now" said the Frenchman, with
his politely indulgent smile.
The train ratified noisily on-aIong a
bridge Iross dried-up river with the
stones OF Its bed showing white and parch-
ed In the hot sunshine; pas, small town,
whose tall houses OF t,me-meliowed, sun
baked stone struggled up the hllls.des amid
the dark green leaves OF the lemon and the
grayish foliage OF the olive On the steps
OF one OF the houses some halt-a-dozen
brown roguish-faced children In pictur-
esque rags were playing. while on the bal
oony OF another a woman with q gaudy
sQuare-shaped head-dress and bright-color-
ed beads was leaning over the stone rail
They were so like what she had seen hun
dreds OF times IN pictures. but never before
IN life. that Priscilla found Il impossible
20 believe that they were not the creations
OF the artist.
oh" she cried. with u;tle gasp. they
can't be real"
The Frenchnal laughed gooi-na turedly.
MADAME wot.ti -irTd them hut .-o real