The times., 1898-10-02
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! The spinster a.; The Players
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ravine that hides the brook on its way
down TO the river in Greenlow Dale. a
band of stroIling players. who called
themselves the Wiimot Dramatic Com
pany. had built a dingy booth of we'll
patched gray canvas. The whole village
was in a state of great excitement, for
entertainments are held there but rarely,
and at least ten years had passed since
dramatic performance had been given.
The repertoire, according TO the posters,
was satisfying enough, for, besides Bel
phegor'' and The Hunchback" four of
Shakespeare's comedies were to be play
ed. and at a Saturday matinee Roderick
Wilmot the chief was proclaimed TO de-
light the nobility, gentry. and others
with his wonderful limitations OF cele-
brated players of the last generation
The principal actors had taken all the
available rooms of the two small inns.
and the lesser stars had found lodgings
in the cottages. All were middle-aGed-
even Miss de Lille the lady who took the
part of the girl heroines, had long since
passed her fortieth year. In sood-fellow-
ship alone were they rich. for they had
acted for years in each others compa-
nv and known always of each other
strange subterfuges 10 keep a good eX-
terror for the public eye On the nights
when the receipts had been in excess o.
the amount required for incidental eX-
penses. Roderick WiImot had given sup
pers. where all, even TO the wagon man.
and the prompter. feasted at the same
table But the lowest of them had once
owned a belief in his or her genius, and
adverse fortune alone had compelled
them TO accept subordinate positions.
Roderick wilmot had brought the play
ers TO Milton out of longing to see once
again before he died the place where he
had spent his boyhood and youth SO
many years had passed since he had
visited the Peak country that he believed
that none could recognize him again. His
identity was concealed under an assumed
name: but even if ii were not, few would
remember Roger Eyre of East Lees. for
his black hair had grown white and scan
ty and his tail figure had shrunk. But he
knew to perfection the art of making-up.
and. save for slight stiffness, on the
boards one might have believed him 10 be
scarcely more than a youth.
One woman. however. on the very first
night felt sudden tears leap to her eyes,
and her heart beat wildly as soon as he
appeared. This was Miss Chetwynd of
The Hallowes. whom he had courted in
his early manhood She was tail ana
cOmely spinster. well-nigh sixty years old,
but still famed for her horsemanship-
in fact she rode so admirably that none
of the maids or wives in the neighborhood
presented half as pretty sight as she
when on horseback. Rumor, still living,
spoke of a fiery temper that had been
the outcome of love Disappointment
Her father, Sir William, the eighth bar
onet. had interposed; she had yielded out
OF ilial devotion, and had shown no sign
OF her sacrifice save by the losing forever
of her former mildness. II IS probable
enough that her outbursts, in spite OF
their violence, did nobody any harm, for
her bosom covered heart of gold.
She had always displayed great interest
in vagabond folk and il caused no sur
prise when she appeared in one Of the
two stage boxes. Her cousin. Mr.. Of
feTtOn, OF Horsleygate, accompanied her.
After his second bereavement he had be-
gun 10 nourish a hopeless passion whose
Quenching amused her at their every
meeting. The wiry old fellow. however,
had too great a respect for his kinSwo-
man to pass to offensive extremes. Before
the tawdry curtain was rolled jerkiIy up
ward. he had leaned back in his chair,
and with hands decently composed over
his waistband. had fallen fast asleep.
After the first moment she had lifted
her fan Of embroidered gauze and hidden
her face, so that none might observe her
emotion. She was white as death, and
her cheeks were quivering beneath q
downfall of tears. For the whole of the
evening II seemed that at any moment
she might give sudden cry of anguish.
She alone Of all the audience saw beneath
the actors disguise and understood that
he who capered as a young gallant was
already on the verge of the grave.
Much Ado About Nothing was the
play-WilmOt the Benedick, Miss de Lille
the Beatrice. Miss ChetWynd OWNED
that in some measure the heroine shared
her distress; between the sticks of her
fan she saw the woman's lips drawn tight
every time that WilmOt laughed, as if she
realized that his gayety cost him some
monstrOus effort.
At the interval between the third and
fourth acts Mr.. Offerton woke, and i'm
mediately assumed an aspect of great
WEAKNESS.
My dear cousin," he said. expostulat-
ingly. This is most excessively dull. Let
US go outside and walk in the moonlight
till Barton comes. ] am too much bored
even to be angry!"
Miss Chetwynd made no reply, and tht
gentleman. fearful of having said some
thing indiscreet, was silent for the rest o
the evening. 1t was not until they wer'
driving TO The HallOwes that she spoke
Mr.. Oferton had begged that her car
riage might not be used and that h
might act as her escort to and from tht
booth.
There is no reason why should con
-ceal the fact" she said half to herself
as the lodgekeeper unfastened the gate
Il was anything but wearied with tn
play. Indeed so much did 1 enjoy it tina
] purpose going again tomorrow night
The plaYbl promises Katharine anC
Petruchio-'The Tanning Of the Shrew.'"
"Of course. l shall be pleased to accom-
pany you" said Oferton. though ! can
for the life of me understand how you car
be interested in such a performance
I've a tenants dinner-but / needn't b'
there"
BY all means co. said Miss Chetwynd
impatientiy Your farmers will be dis
appointed if you don't drink with them
Perhaps ] was only jesting-as likely a
not I shall not be in the humor 70
another play"
They had reached the terrace; Offertol
alighted and assisted her to the house
then returned 10 his carriage and drov
away The lady went at once to her bed
room. and, when her maid was gone, tool
a bundle of old letters from the secre
drawer of her jewel box and sat weeping
over them till break Of day.
Meanwhile, when the curtain had fallen
Roger Eyre had walked slowly TO the Boil
Nelson. leaning heavily on Miss de Lille
arm. The actress was trembling; ther
was biting pain at her heart.
You saw her" she said, as they en-
tered the garden. 4 knew it when you
voice changed. My Godi i could haY
cried out myself when / knew how yol
suffered.
He caught her elbow in his palm an,
pressed IL fOndly. II did not see her.
he said. but something-I can't explain
what-told me instantly that she wa
there For moment it seemed as if