Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1899-12-21

night full Of gfftterin5 stars and silent
MOWERS for background, and filmy lace
curtains partially screening them from
the vulgar gaze, SO that Lady Ennlsford's
jealous glances are scarcely to be mar
veled at.
She keeps her seat bravely on her sofa,
however, and replies in a vague, stupid
way to Seymour Fane's soft nothings. the
same as he is in the habit of addressing
TO every woman, be she fair or plain. But
she is SO dumbfounded, scandalized, at
TINS fiagrant display before her very nose,
that she scarcely knows what she is do
ing. In beWidered maze she stares at
them, as, deliberately crossing the long
drawing room, they go through French
easement on to the moonlit lawn. In
beWlldered maze she sees him tenderly
wrap the young Athene form in a white
mccoy cloud, that in the misty light looks
classical enough to suit it. And still more
IN a maze, she marks Lady Aylmer take
MS arm and stroll quietly toward the
strawberries.
BY and by, just as the clock chimes the
quarter to midnight, Lord Ennisford and
MS companion saunter slowly in, and the
two women and four men fall into a sort
of circle.
Lady Ennisford's tongue has lost it's
cunning, and she sits, not pale but gray
to her lips, with a broad, dark shadow
UNDERLYING her eyes.
am afraid we are keeping you up
Sir Seymour says to her, in his soft,
peasant way, that makes half the women
he speaks to fall in love with him on the
spot. 1T is time for all good people to
be in bed.''
Yes, she answers, quietly, rising and
standing erect in the midst Of the group.
For the first time in her life she looks
positively imperial; her head is thrown
back, her slight figure is drawn up to it's
every inch, and her mouth quivers with
unmitigated scorn.
Il am tired, and hope you will excuse
me. Good night, Sir Seymour; good
night, Lord Squashington; good night,
Mr.. Macduff," and without a glance at
Lady Ayimer she sweeps toward the
door.
But Lord Ennisford loses his temper
and his discretion, so he starts to his
feet, white with rage.
Frances, you have in your fatigue for
gotten to say good night to Lady Ayl-,
mer!' he exclaims, trying to control the
trembling Of his voice.
Lady Ennisford pauses and faces the
whole of the company with calm, placid
features.
Il see no lady herep' she says, in a
clear, distinct tone. ''If there had been
one no fatigue would have made me fail
in courtesy to her.
And she is gone.
h. ,hoIo eel L
and in the bewilderment of it Lady Ayl-
mer rushes away, tears Of anger and NOR
LITIGATION in her eyes, to confide her griey-
ance to Miss Payne's sleepy ears.
'Plucky thing that of Lady Ennisford,"
Fame says to Macduff, when Lord Ennis
ford has mysteriously disappeared.
1t is past two o'clock when Lord Ennis
ford, who has been cooling his heels in
the grounds, chucks the remnant of his
cigar into belt of laurustinas, and
strides up to his dressing room.
He has no candle, and as he crosses the
room towards the mantelpiece for a
match he trips over something and nearly
loses his balance.
Angry and sore of spirit, he swears
little and kicks impatiently at that which
has impeded his way. Then he strikes
light and looks down.
Starting back, his face blanched and
set, he sees a man lying in sort of heap
on the tloor-his features all distorted
with agony, his eyes open and staring,
his hands tightly clenched.-the sight al
together horrible!
1t is Pierre, his French valet, dead,
with cup and saucer shattered in pieces
lying beside him!
TO be continued.)