Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1898-10-29
CHAPTER XVI,

Nini III
1t was the last ball of the ~season-this
grand Exclusive reception at Lady Hol-
lingslcy's-and all Belgravia and Ty-
BURMA, from the Dan to the Beersheeba
of the fashionable world, was astir with
eagerness TO obtain cards of invitation; for
the last ball Of the season at Hollingley
House was not as other balls-rather was
it viewed rs the reserved piece Of music to
adorn the wind-up of a SOircC musicale,
the grand chorus of a festival, the final
dazzling burst of splendOr Of Il pyrOtcch-
mic exhibition, the triumphal march, with
bands playing, colors flying, arms burn
ished, uniforms cleaning and glowing, of
a ~conquering army quitting n well-won
field.
For the pleasure Of an evening In Lady
Hollingslcy's airy, elegant, brilliantly
lighted rooms, amidst the wearers of coro-
nets, the great, the gifted, the mobiles by
rank and by nature-for Lady Hollingslcy
gave as much honor to one as to the other
for the chances Of boudoir tctc- d-tctCS,
of semi-royal quadrilles, of a supper over
which laudatory newspaper paragraphs
exhausted their stock Of French enComi-
ums-for honors and glories and delights
like these, and more, chaperons and de-
butdntCS, wives and mothers, young men
and maidens, old men and staid maidens,
intrigued and hoped, and were ~disappoint-
ed or rejOiced, according as Louisa, Lady
Hollingsley, selected to pass over or de-
lighted to honor.
1t was the last ball of the season, but it
had not quite arrived yet. 1t was fixed
for the twenty-eighth of July, and guests
were not expected to arrive before ten p.
IN. 1t was now a little more than ten a.
M, and the guests eXpectant had scarcely
emerged from their bed chambers, if, in
deed, the weary d~cbutdntcS and wearier
chaperons before alluded to had risen from
their pillows az all.
81 am sure, my love-" sad one weary
chaperon, loosely robed in mauve silk
embroidered cashmere, seated in an easy
chair, and languidly slipping chocolate,
81 never expected for a moment TO sec you
until luncheOn-time, after that wearisome
musical affair of last night"
why did you 90 then?' coolly demand
ed the ungrateful d%Cbutantc. 81 am sure
1t afforded no particular delight to me to
hear those wretched fugues, and synco-
pated passages, and solos, and s,lrieking
violins, and moaning vi0loncellos for three
hours"
"Nor to me, Miss T~redennick!' retorted
the chaperon, sharply. 81 went simply
for the reason that brought me up from
my quiet country home to undergo the
fatigue and turmoil of a London season."
Mildred Tredennick was silent. She
was weary Of the subject at issue between
her clever, indomitable, self-willed, hand
some aunt and herself-as weary as she
was Of the London season.
"Three more years nearly before | shall
be twenty-one," she thought, YEARLY; 81
am only eighteen and seven months.
What is the use of having money and be-
ing handsome? | might as well be a slave
to aunt Vivian"
The thought was perhaps a little unjust
to "aunt Vivian" for il was certain that,
if Mildred Tredennick was a slave to that
lady's worldly projects and purposes, she
was an extremely rebellious and trouble.
some one.
IL declare" Madam often exclaimed,
from the very depths of her veXed soul, to
her nephew, Stephen Tredennick, "if Mil
dred Tredennick marries a %coronet, | shall
deserve it much more than She"
And Stephen TreCennick as often ad-
vised, Then don't trouble yourself to
marry her to a coronet," but little hoping
that it would be of the slightest avail to
restrain Madam Vivian from the course
of worldly policy, contriving, scheming,
and matchmaking which she was so des.
perately pursuing for her troublesome
ward.
Madam had almost totally despaired of
the match she had first so fondly planned.
Even IL she could coax and flatter Mildred
into wedding the cousin whom she loved
as a brother, she could not persuade
Stephen Tredennick to marry the beauti-
full, naughty, high-spirited girl on whom
his quiet, tender affections could never
rest in perfect peace as his wife and COM
forter-th the dear, gentle, ~soft-handed,
sweet-voiced, loving woman he sometimes
dreamily pictured as his wife, if such he
might ever possess-someone to sit by his
side at the fire while he smoked or read
the paper, someone to write him long low
ing letters when he was away, someone to
long and pray for each safe return, to
make the dreary old house at Tregarthen
a happy, sunny home, alive with chill
dren's voices, playing in the light of a gen.
tie mothers smile.
Imperial, self-willed Mildred Treden.
nick was to him as a beautiful sister, OF
whom he was proud, and for whom he
was very anxious. Those restless, reck-
less, brilliant ones are so often a source of
pain and anxiety to the quiet hearts that
love them! Besides, Stephen Tredennick
knew that passionate, strong-willed, fiery
Mildred's girlish heart was given away,
never, by IA nature like hers, to be quite
recalled again.
Il wish aunt Vivian knew all that Millie
has told me-" he said, regretfully; "she