The Press., 1898-08-11
A BOOMERANG.

A BOOMERANG. When I got Georges letter telling he that all was now ready for our re- ception and we were to come at once, I was delighted Within a week We mother and I-were on our way out and ill about three weeks time found ourselves between the swampy shores of the Essequibo, nearing Georgetown, where on the quay the dear fellow was waiting to take us up to the home he had made for us on his plantation. | George Haden and had met year before during his visit to the old coun- try, and the big, quiet, sunburned man and l, who tell this story, had fallen in love with one another almost at first sight.
 We were to have been married before he returned to Guiana, but he was re- called suddenly by the death of his only brother at Rio, and it was arranged I should follow later with mother. | You can, or, rather, you can't, inn agine how delighted I was to see my sweetheart again. But I was startled and a good deal troubled by his appear ance. He looked thin and worried. At first put it down to his grief at Harry s death, but later, after our quiet we'd ding, on the way to my future home, I gathered by degrees there was more than that.
 His brother Harry had married a | Spaniard, a beautiful woman, who had died nearly IS years before, leaving him with one daughter, Teresa. It was chiefly on this girl S account that George had hurried back, and he had mentioned in writing to me that he had brought her up from Rio to stay with him in Guiana until other arrangements could be made. Since then had heard little of her and almost indeed, in my own happiness and excitement, forgotten her very existence.
 Now my questions elicited from George that she was not pleasant tenn pered young woman or easy to get on with, but my worst anticipation did not touch the reality. l We came up the river ill a small steamer, which dropped us at my hus- bands very wharf, and we three walked up a slope through a wonderful tropical garden to where a long, whitewashed, green shuttered house shone clean and bright in the evening sun. On the veranda stood a tall figure in @ pale yellow gown, her black hair crowned with crimson hibiscus-a splendidly handsome woman! She looked at me in half disdainful way.
 "So you're my new aunt?" she said casually. "And how do you do, Uncle | George?"
 Her calm assumption of superiority was unbearable. George-big, steady ed with anger.
 He whispered to me:
 | "Never mind, my dear. She knows no better, and it won't be for long," But it was for longer than we reckon ed. She was to have been sent to her godmother, who lived in Madrid, but the old lady was ill and begged us to keep the girl awhile longer.
 It was trying to a degree and each day got worse and worse. Teresa s tenn per was something unbearable and her general lack of manners only equaled by her sweetness when there was any thing to be gained by it. Still, for my husbands s sake, bore with her. Toward the end of the cool weather our old English overseer died, and, as a stop gap, George took on young Span ish-American, Ramon Martinez | Ramon was a smart looking fellow, but there was something in his black eyes which repelled me. always felt a shrinking repulsion for the man, and | George didn't care much for him. Still it was necessary to have some one who understood the sugar, and men who knew anything were so scarce you couldn' t pick and choose.
 | Teresa, who loved the cheap gayeties of Rio, had been simply bored to death all the winter. Ramon was a godsend to her, and the two used to chat in Spanish every evening over their coffee on the veranda-
 SometimesT blame myself for letting them be so much together, but to tell the truth the relief of getting rid of her even for an hour or two was very great | And how could I know what a scoun- drel the man was or what unspeakable wickedness those two were brewing to- gether?
 And now l must pass over the events of the next ten months and tell you what happened on that dreadful day | which so nearly proved fatal to all my happiness
 | Old Juan, a half caste Indian en- ployee on the place, came up that morn | ing, wanting to see my husband They talked for 8 time, and. then l saw George go out with gun on his shoul- der He saw me at the window and called out something, but could not | hear what he said l He was keen collector, and sup posed 1t was some rare bird or beast he was after. ....
 The day passed, and the short, trop- tcaI twilight was closing over the forest when saw George returning. He was followed by two negroes, who slowly dragged some long, heavy object up the path to. the house. This they pulled along, trailing in the dust, round to the south end of the house, where George s big so called study, really sort of mu- scum, opened by two French windows on the lawn.
 I was dressing for o'clock dinner, so did not go out. Soon Iheard George $ long stride pass up stairs by my door to his dressing room. which lay beyond