Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1899-11-23

meekly; still, it is pity if husband and
wife are great contrasts in any one thing.
You, now, would have suited him, if fate
had so willedv'
CHAPTER x.
Lord Ennisford's pulse keeps time with
each step that brings him to his new
queen Of beauty. He does not remember
when such perturbation lived within him,
and feels even twinge Of cowardice as
he goes forth to meet his fate, to run
the fiery ordeal Of spirit and flesh which
he has to undergo and resist, If possible.
For moment, even on this threshold Of
Paradise, Lady Ennisford's face rises
again before him, and he almost resolves
to grid up his loins and flee before temp
tation; but, although the spirit is willing
the flesh Is weak, and with good deal
of expectation, considerably colored and
! heightened by the glamour Of magma
| ton, he follows the servant into sort of
square hall, lofty enough and large
enough to be dignifed by the name Of
"salon."
Lord Aylmer, though he hates and de-
spises the partner of his bosom, does not
stint her in the luxury that she loves;
and, though he cavils at her morals, pays
her bills like a prince.
"You have GOMEZ she cries, in childish
accents, and in voice that is to him
music's own, as she holds out a white
hand, plump and dimpled, with lissome
fingers and cameo nails. cit is so good
of you to have kept your promise! Do
you know how I appreciate your good
ness?"
''Did you think for one moment that
would not Gomez" Lord Ennisford says,
in his softest tones of saying soft moth
ings. Very often that tone is ''put on"
in higher or lesser degree, as it may
suit his audience, but now it bursts spon-
taneously direct from his heart, or more
likely his senses! II have counted the
very seconds till tonight
And as he utters this-for the time be-
ing sincere and earnest-he entirely for
gets that any other woman has right
to his loyalty. He only remembers this
woman-how beautiful she is! He has
seen faces Of the old masters, over which
he has gone mad-a usual occurrence with
him when beauty "holds him by single
hair" and he has often pictured the
grand ideal Of the lovely idyls Of other
days, but he has never gazed his fill on
his perfection Of womanhood as he does
now; womanhood with flesh and blood,
and plenty of passion and materialism,
making a daughter of earth-very much
earthy-seem like an angel Of heaven to
him.
It is but for an instant; in another his
gaze mechanically follows the little white
hand and rests on Watteaus and Guides.
the glowing scenery Of Patel, the life fig
ures Of David the master-bits Of Horace
Vernet, Ingres, Delaroche and Claude Lo-
raine, but he takes in none Of their
beauty.
"You cannot Judge Of them by wax
light" Lady Aylmer says at last, rather
laneuidly. She is tired of this farce,
which she knows neither he nor she care
jot about.
pictures forsooth! what man could look
at them. the dumb, senseless things with
s.Ife" glowing, leaping, bounding, and
withal beautiful, counting his gaze?
"Do YOU care for music as well as for
naintings?' he asks, resolved to consign
himself TO conventionalities for this even
ing only.
81 sing" she replies, and dropping on
to the music stool she begins.
1t is a Spanish love song, with passion
and pathos and moonlighs running
through every bar of it, and it is sung
with all the fervof and LIQUID assenance
of tbe tropics. Hes voice is Ike herself,
unworn, untouched by time o. trouble,
flexible. mellow, nothing can sekpass its
melody: and he, whs really loves music,
grows unconscious OF the powes of the
yo;ce In the ineffable softness sgd pas
sion which it expresses.
"Poor little FranceA!" he thinks. by
love! what a fool wss to come here.
Nevertheless, he stays little lepger,
and little longer. Lady Aylmer has for
gotten her treatise on art, and her subtle
singing. and instead Of muse looks like
Venus. as she leans back indolenty In
n nose that would drive sculptor lneo
frenzy of delight. The fragrance OF hes
hair sweeps across Ennistord, and her
wealth of beauty is within his reach.
.sWhy did you refuse to make my ac-
onaintance in Paris that night! she
questions, in a low voice with q tremolo
If renroach in it that fatters him uneen-
sciously.
81 was afraid
AFRAID, OF whom? OF your wife,"
| frown crosses his brow ana ne
| winees He does not want to talk of his
wife now. or think of her even; besides,
somehow. he does not care Tor mel. name
to he on Lady Aylmer's vermilion lips.
"Afraid of myself he says, after
moment.
SIS that true!
~Opite truei Do you doubt me Have
I;r,.d an now and never learned that
man often fears to try and climb 70
tho highest pinnacle Of his desire, De u
fame or fortune or bliss, lest ne fail pc