The Telegraph-courier. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1888-1946, 1898-11-03
A MASQUERADE.

opened on to a narrow, struggling
footway which meandeted between
the hedge and what was then field
of waving golden wheat.
She wore a plain blue print dress,
and her sweet, girlish face and
brown hair, a glorious wealth of
which, when loosened from its bond
age, enveloped her shoulders, fall
ing to her waist, were surmounted
by q broad brimmed straw hat, from
the friendly shelter of which deep,
limpid gray eyes cleaned, and the
pertest little nose possible was visi-
bic.
His name was Jack-that is to say,
he was christened John. He was
handsome and bronzed, and the suit
of hannels he wore set off his we'll
knit, 1.-THE figure to advantage. He
leaned against the stile at her side
and, to guard her against falling,
had placed one arm around her
waist.
"How lovely it is here now, Kitty !!
And to think tomorrow I must leave
it all and-you!' he said regretfully.
Eyes, it Is horrid, isn't it3'' she
said, with a pout, "but you will
come back again, Jack, won't youi"
placing a dainty little ungloved
hand upon his shoulder and glancing
down at his handsome face into the
earnest brown eyes which looked in
to hers.
Come backl Why, of course I
will, darlingI" Then, with a trace
of annoyance: "Confound my ia
therl Whatever he wanted to die
for Just now, I can't imagine! Good
heavens, fancy wearing a suit of
solemn black and sitting glum and
proper in a mourning coach on
day like thisl But he has left me
his money, suppose, and we shall
be able to get married now, shan't
we, Kitty9" he said softly, drawing
her to him and imprisoning the 9th
er little hand within his own strong,
supple fingers.
She made no reply, only blushing
a bright rosy red and hiding her
face in his neck.
When Robert Holt married, it was
with the distinct disapprobation Of
his only sister, Matilda. She did not
consider the lady he had chosen to
be his wife worthy of the head of
one of the oldest families in Eng
land and did not hesitate to tell him
SO, with the result that bitter quar-
rel was engendered which was never
made up and which only ceased with
death.
Matilda Holt therefore took
house in the quiet little west of Eng
land village of Monkwood, where,
under the assumed name of Give,
she and her little girl, Kathleen,
lived in seclusion, unknown to her
brother, while she never told the
child she was in any way connected
with the old family, the Hollis of
Holt Manor, in the county of Sus-
sex.
+ One morning, three days after the
departure of her lover, Kitty came
into the little breakfast room, where
her mother sat at the head of a
snowy draped table before gilt
tering array Of silver and china, with
whirl of her cool cotton skirts, her
face aglow with health and happi-
ness. Putting her arms around her
mothers neck, she said:
Good morning, mamma! Am I
Iate9 Forgive me!' Then, releas-
ing the old lady and turning to a
small pile of letters lying on salver
placed at one side of the table, said:
Whom are the letters for, dearf
Why, they are all for you, believe.
No, with a pretty uprising of her
eyebrows, Except one, and that is
for mel'' with charming emphasis
on the last word.
The letter was from her lover.
With a tender light in her gray eyes,
she placed the missive carefully
away in her pocket, intending to
read it at her leisure, alone and un-
disturbed.
Then she began her breakfast,
watching the while her mother open
and read the three or four letters
which had fallen to her share.
Presently the old lady uttered a
cry of surprise and looked across at
her daughter, with wonderment in
her eyes.
"Well, maman, what's the mat
terf" with a laugh. You look as if
you had seen a ghosts"
"Well, am certainly surprised,
my dear, for I find you are an heir
hon v,oo%h07.