Western liberal. (Lordsburg, N.M.) 1887-1919, 1898-12-02
A PHILANTHROPIST

"Whom do you think l saw driving
with Gerald Morton this morningg'
asked Mrs. Morris Of her greet friend,
the Doctors wife, as the two ladies were
enjoying 3 o'clock tn aud the general
gossip Of the parish together n after
noon
"Beatrix Harcourt," Mrs. Maynard
answered promptly.
"Ah, you saw her, too, then. l must
say l was astonishedl 1t is we'll known
that young Morton bears the character
of being the fastest man in the neigh.
borhood."
81 have long ceased to be surprised
at anything Beatrix Harcourt does"
the other lady answered significantly.
"If Mr.. Kenrick does not mind, l do
not see why any n else should trouble
their heads about her eccentricities."
Certainly not, " Mrs. Morris agreed.
"But really, Rose, she was laughing
and talking in the most familiar man.
ner, and Gerald was bending toward
her until his face nearly touched hersi''
And that is our future wears wifel
Well, l shall take care my daughters do
not see much of her" And Mrs. May
nard drew herself up with a kind Of
lofty indignation rs some fresh visitors
were shown into the room.
Poor Beatrixl Her numerous delin-
quencies were the subject of many aft.
ernoon tea gossips, AID had been ever
since she can to chichester, four years
ago. She certainly was unlike other
girls, for in addition to being a 'blue
stocking" aud having taken her degree
at Oxford she had a most unreasonable
interest in the working classes-not a
mere ladylike interest, which contented
itself with calling at their cottages with
a few words of good advice and a track.
All, no; she had always some plan or
craze, " as tho good people Of Hillches-
ter called ii, for their benefit on hand
classes for the young girls, ambulance
lectures, concerts, teas, what not.
For the conyentionalities of society
she cared not at all. She never attend
ed the afternoon teas, therefore she
heard no gossip. She was not even par
ticular about being in the fashion-in
fact, the black serge dress she usually
wore looked, from constant exposure to
the weather, as if it had seen better
days.
She had been known even to take the
broom off the lame old crossing sweeper
at the corner of tho road and work away
in earnest until there was a passage fit
for a queen to walk over.
And in spite Of all the vicar Of Hill
chester had asked Beatrix Harcourt to
be his wife. Well, as the leaders of So
ciety in Hillchester remarked with omi-
nous sighs, wonders would never cease.
Nevertheless it must be confessed
that Rev. John Kenrick was in no very
enviable frame of mind as a week later
no wendell his way somewhat slowly
toward his ladylove's abode.
The gossip which had begun in Mrs.
Maynard's drawing room had spread all
over the parish, until a version of it,
highly exaggerated and colored, had
reached even the wears ears.
Beatrix soon discovered something
was amiss, and after the first greetings
were over she asked almost a~nxiously:
What is the matter, John2 You do
not look we'll"
For a full minute Mr.. Kenrick did
not answer. Instead he looked down at
her as she stood with one small hand
resting upon his black coat sleeve, the
sunlight falling with loving touch upon
her fair hair, which was cut short lam
other point which met with the d~isfavor
of the Hillohester matrons), and ourled
naturally all over her head like a
child's.
"Trix, it is silly perhaps, bat some
thing l have heard today has troubled
me greatly"
"About me?" Trix asked gayly. "Of
what fresh enormity am / accused,
Johnl" and a sudden gravity crept into
the sweet voice. II thought you said
that you minded none Of these things. 4"
Il donot, +" the vicar answered quick.
ly. Indeed, I" gently stroking the soft,
yet strong looking hand, II love you
all the better for them butt is bet
ter to speak out. Trix, have you been
driving with Gerald Morton latelyY"
The next moment Mr.. Kenrick would
have given much never to have asked
the question. for Trix turned 70 him
quickly, a whole world Of scorn shining
in her blue eyes.
"And so, John, this means that you
cannot trust me, and you choose rather
to believe any idle story people may
tell"
"Tell me there is no truth in It.,
Trix. Mr.. Kenrick said quietly, though
his eyes had clouded with a deep look
Of pain beneath her implied rebukc,
land ! promise you l will believe It,"
But Beatrix had removed her hand.
and all the sunshine had died out Of her
bonny face al she said YEARLY; "Mr.
Morton has driven oven TO Castledelds