The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1898-03-06

| Lucetta's eye there was now no Waver-
| Ing, and the head which was always
turning In anxious anticipation over her
shoulder. rested firm, though not as
erect as her sisters, who had less cause
perhaps for regret and sorrow.
| William was jovial to a degree, but
it was forced jovlality which only be-
came real when he heard a sudden,
| quick bark under the window and the
sound of scraping paws against the
mast1c coating Of the wall outside. Then
he broke into a loud laugh of unre-
strained pleasure, crying out thought
| lessly:
There's saracen. How quick he
knows
A warning look from Lucetta stopped
| him.
81 mean," he stammered, "that it's
| q dull dog who does not know where
his master Is Miss Buterworth''-he
was absolutely unrestrained in his re-
! stored elf-confidence-"you will have
to overcome your fear of dogs if you
stay with us long. Saracen is unbound
this morning, and"-he used a great
oath-"he's going to remain so.''
BY Which | came to understand that
1t was not out of consideration for me
ne mad been tied. up in the court till
| now, but for reasons connected with
their own safety and the preservation
|
believed had been buried with the body,
| winch L did not like to remember lay
! at that very minute too nearly under
our feet for my own individual COM
| fort.
However, this has nothing to do with
the reply | made to William.
Il hope" said I. "he does not run
with the buggy. 1 want to take a ride
very much this morning and could get
small pleasure out of it if that dog
| must be our companion
cannot go out this morning." Will
liam began, but changed his sentence
possibly al the touch of his sisters
loot under the table, into: But if you
say L must why I must. You women
folks are so plagued changeable. Yes
terday l wanted to go; today I don't;
but don't let that make any difference
! to you. host must follow the wishes
of his guests
Had he been ten years younger I
would have boxed his ears; had he been
That much older l would have taken
cue ard packed up my trunk before he
| could nave finished the cup of coffee
| he was drinking. But he was lust too
old to reprimand-that is, in that way,
and not old enough to appreciate any
display of personal dignity or self re-
| spect. Besides, he was a knave; so
l just let his impertinence pass with
| the remark:
Il have purchases to make in the
village" and so that matter ended,
manifestly to the two girls relief, who
! naturally did no: like to see me in
suited even If they did not possess suf-
| 1clent power over their brother to pre-
vent it.
One other small episode and then l
will take you with me to the village.
AS we were leaving the table, where l
ate less than common, Notwithstanding
all my efforts to seem perfectly uncon-
| cerned except at those demonstrations
| OF Saracen, from which they all ex-
pected me to shrink, Lucetta, who had
| waited for her brother to go out, took
me gently by the arm, and, looking at
me closely, said:
Did you have any dreams last night,
Miss Butterworth? You know 1 prom
ised you some"
1 was little taken aback and for a
moment felt like taking those two girls
F., into my confidence and bidding them
| fly from the shame and doom so soon to
fall upon their brother, but the real
| principle underlying all such momen-
| tary impulses on my part deferred me,
| and in as light a tone as 1 could as
sumo and notsb be an absolute hypocrite,
I replied that [ was sorry bto disap-
| point her, but l had no dreams. which
l
should, for if,I had had no dreams
certainly had suffered from the most
| dreadful realities
| 1 will not describe that ride into
| town. Saracen did go with us, and. in
dignation not only rendered me speech
less, but gave to my thoughts a turn
which made that half hour of very lit
| tie value to me. Mother James burly
figure crouching in her doorway might
otherwise have given me opportunity
for remark, and so might the dubious
| looks of people we met on the high
| road-looks to which l am so wholly
unaccustomed that I had difficulty In
recognizing myself as the butt of so
much doubt and possibly dislikeaI at
tributed this, however, all to the i'll re-
| pute under which William so deserved
| Iy labored and did not allow myself to
more than notice it. Indeed, I could
only be sorry for people who did not
| know in what consideration I was held
| at home and who, either through ignc-
| rance or prejudice, allowed themselves
| privileges they would be the first to re-
J greet did they know the heart and mind
| of the real Amelia Butterworth.
| Once in the village l took the direc-
ton of affairs.
| "Set me down at the hotel" said T.
land then go about such business as
you may have here in town. I am not
going to allow myself to be tracked all
over by that dog"
II have no business" was the surly
reply.
"Then make some" was my sharp
retort IT want to see the locksmith
that locksmith who wouldn't come
to do an honest piece of work for me
in your house, and I want to buy dim
tiles and woods and sewing silks at the
| dry goods store over there. Indeed, I
have thousand things to do and eX-
pect to spend half the morning before
| the counters. Why, man, I haven't
done any shopping for a week.
He gaped at me perfectly aghast
| Gas I meant he should and, having
but little experience of city ladies to
go by, took me at my word and pre-
pared to beat an honorable retreat. AS
result I found myself ten minutes
later standing on the top step of the
hotel porch, watching William driving
away. with Saracen perched on the
seat beside him. Then 1 realized that
the village held no companions for
him and did not know whether / felt
glad or sorry.
To the clerk who came to meet me
said quietly: Room No. 8 If YOU
please" at which he gave a nod OF
intelligence and led me as unostenta
tiously as possible into a small hall, al
the end of which I saw the number
had asked for.
IF you will take a seat inside" said
he, Il viii send you whatever you may
desire for your comfort"
Il think you know what that is
said I, at which he nodded again and
left me, closing the door carefully be.
hind him as he went
MIN iaI, al