The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1898-02-13


Lydia's heart, and made the county ring.
And this Is saying nothing of the Inflated
girl-speor Mary Fossy, scullery- maid-Sir
Justin's second wife
july and August passed in seeming ac-
cord. September had we'll begun before
the poison took final hold Of Sir Jusin's
brain; but then 1t turned him literally
mad. with wholesale jealousy worse than
II directed at wife. for open attack,
squareiy met, would have ended in open
cure But Stormont had struck deeper;
not at the thing believed in so much as a
belief itself. His method was to general
ize; or, 70. speak Of II In metaphor. ne first
poisoned adj the springs, then cried out to
his victim: Come, now, show me this
pure water specially reserved for you"
When all was over, and something of
the truth guessed at Sir Justin was held
up as an almost incredible fool, but 1t was
rather Stormont's wicked skin that passed
belief. BY SLOW and fendish cunning, he
| dragged his cousin down from his beati-
| tudes, indeed, into a world of universal
doubt-the purgatory of the jealous
Strange that it should be so. that Lydia,
there upon the spot, in all her beauty and
ardour, should not have been sufficient
| safeguard. But the strangeness of a fact
does not obviate tilt was so! Lydia Mon
| trose herself, looking back in days to come,
| could see how even she unwittingly had
| caught the Injection of Sir Justin's silent
malady. and in hundred ways. all trifies
light as air. had played into Rufus Stor-
| monts hands.
II was never definitely understood what
brought Sir Justin's madness to its con-
summation. Lydia could in no wise ex-
| ed. But something occurred, some chance
| as purely beyond calculation the losing
| of Desdemona's handkerchief in that
other lagos story.
| Lydia remembered afterwards that on
| the evening of the fatal event, she had
| strolled alone in the moonlight through
| the great patch of bracken near the Dow
| er House; the peacefulness and glittering
silence Of the scene oppressed her, and
| some sense of nervous strain, some name
| less disilusion, made her sad; her sum-
merss Wooing and her gallant lover were
| somehow not quite all she had expected.
| And so she wept little and threw out
| her arms with girlish gestures of weari-
| ness or petulance. 1t is probable Sir JUS
| tin saw her and, the glamor of the moon
| light working with the fever of his brain
| believed she was waiting there for Stor-
mont, or some other, and meanwhile be-
| moaning her position towards him When
| Lydia returned to the Dover House she
| found Sir Justin had been there inquiring
| for her, but nothing would detain him.
and none of his guests saw him again
| that night. AT 10 o'clock his valet found
"a
| summons on the bell
Beg Miss Edwards" (the housekeeper),
| ito come here at once with the scullery-
maid" said sirFJustin, glancing up from
| his, desk
The valet was well trained, but he hes
itated, simply doubling his hearing. Sir
Justin flew into passion.
Miss Edwards and the scullery maid
| the kitchen wench, the drudge. Don't let
| me have to repeat it or by the"
The Cinderella of the household was in
bed but 50 urgent did the man make his
message that not very many minutes
elapsed before Mary Fossy found herself
confronting the baronet for the first time
IN her life beside her was Miss Edwards
| huttering with surprise and agitation.
| There was only one conclusion to be
1rawn, viz, that Sir Justin had detected
the girl in some fragrant misdemeanor.
| and the housekeeper's sharp remarks had
already reduced the poor girl to a shiv-
| ering, barely conscious state of fear.
| This is the scullery-maid Sir Justin.
Am right In Understanding you wished
to see her2p began Miss Edwards a little
But the baronet, without speaking. wav-
| ed them to a seat. Presently he raised
his eyes and scanned Mary Fossy over.
eomposedly, from head to foot. Mary
| every inch servant shook vsibly under
Sir Justin's scrutiny. 1t seemed as if her
/
| chair would not sustain her; her coarse
| red hands twitched pitiably at her apron
| corners. But Sir Justin was mad-simplv
| possessed; and even If vague conjunction
stirred him at the sight OF such distress.
| 1t had no power to stay him.
| DO not be frightened" he said at
| happen to have berth at my disposal bet
| ter than the one you are occupylng. 7
| wish TO fill II with young woman of your
| description;I am leaving for London in an
hour or two and the matter must he set
| tled hrst; that is why / disturbed Won so
| late You have no objection to advancjne,
| in the world? No. Just So Then kindly
oblige me by answering few questions :,
| Miss Edwards sat in an. establishment
| that almost bereft her of her wits ana
she was much blamed afterwards for NOT
| reporting at once what had occurred to
the Cohtessa at the Dover House, Sir
| Justin's cousin. But the housekeenay,
driven to bay defended herself stoutIv
Not living soul but would have Though +
Sir Justin knew what he was about. She
believed he did, and it was her place to do
as she was told; fact the ladies who nov,
complained of her would have been rho
nrst TO remind her Of il she had gone
cackling TO them of a matter that nor
| master seemed so very well able To man
age for himself
And indeed Miss Edwards, active or ma
slVe, was only very small link in the
|
interview with his future wife lasted a
bare ten minutes. Sir Justin asked certain
formal questions. and noted the girls
| monosyllabic replies, in writing, 10 which
she signed her name.
Her age was Is, her father was Jona-
than Fossy, laborer the family had lived
from one generation to another in the
shadow of the Featherstone ems With
this, and little more of the like, the
scene was over. Mary crept back TO her
bed that night her heart heavy to burst
ing with the thought of the change her
| master was preparing for her.
The next day Sir Justin spent in London.
And on this day. strangely enough as 1t
seemed to her when the time came that
she could bear to reflect on what did hap
pen these few days. Lydia Montrose saw
| Mary Fcssy.
AS the afternoon began to wane. LYDIA
found herself, after wandering abstractet-
'lsly through the beautiful gardens of the
| Haush In a part of the shrubbery she
was not familiar with, and a sudden turn
| at the end of long path revealed a com
| p'etely unknown region Beyond a stout
! priNet hedge was the great cobbied yard
OF the Haugh, thanked by long rows of
| kennels. tall dove COsps and xsrhftar-a