The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1900-12-05
ONLY A SKIRMISH.

Ready? 1 was not going to wait
much longer
Sorry I shall be later than you will.
[ have half a mile to go after | have
dropped you, and l know the Vennekers
expect me TO De punctuai.
The porter at Blessingham chambers
had a hanson at the door, and they got
into it quickly and drove off-two men
who had lived together for ten years and
knew each other we'll enough to do with
out conversation on trivial topics. After
a minutes or two, however, one of them
became unusually talkatiye. ''Saw an
old fame of yours today, Dick"
$50 did t.
'"The deuce you did! The VennekerS
used to know her, didn't they? [ don't
suppose they can raise dinner party in
the slack season without asking all their
friends. You'll meet her there tonight"
81 SHALL
"Dick Templar," said his friend.
you're secretive devil! Two years ago
your worried me with all your lamenta-
tons over the girl till I got sick of her
name. Each time you proposed to her
you told me what you said and what she
said when she refused you; and now she
comes to London as the wife of the other
fellow, and you slip off to tea with her,
instead of coming to the club to play
whist-you know that is where you were,
so don't deny it!-and YOU say not q
blessed word about it. Not even to me.
May ask what is the difference between
your feelings for Miss Rose Casterton
and your feelings for Mrs.-Mrs. Rose
''O'Brien; husbands a captain in an
Irish regiment. He'd need to be WITH
such a name. grunted Dick TemDlar.
''In Africa"
"Phew Poor devil. And you told me
nothing about it! What makes the dif-
ference?-for you are different
Don't be goat!' answered Dick.
Il am not different. There was nothing
to tell, that's all. I've called on her
twice, and she remembers that she liked
one she knows and can talk to-she quite
forgets how | loved her. She will never
understand how [ love her still don't
mind telling You all this, old chap-all
she talks about and thinks about is her
husband. It's what Pat says and what
Pat does and what Pat thinks about
everything. and she looks at his photo
graph all the 3 time if you cant get her
with her back to it. She's safe enough;
and so am |, for that matter. | feel just
the same-only different, you know
Time heals"
thine makes the wound tester. I love
her more than ever. | hate meeting her,
but I'm so fond of her [ can't even hate
her husband when she talks about him:
| believe I'd bring him back to her if
L could, just to make her happier
Poor old Dick! What a good chap
you are! Here's my dinner waiting for
me and brougham in front of the door,
so I'm not Late
He got out, and Dick Templar opened
tire little trapdOor in the roof and shout
ed to the cabman to drive fast.
The Vennekers live somewhere north
of the Marylebone road. in quiet ter
race Of big houses. There was no car
riage at their door. a hanson was the
only vehicle in the Terrace, driving slow
~ off, with the man in the diclSey exam
lining the fare that had just been paid
quality as we'll as the quantity of the
coins. Dick wondered if Mrs. O'Brien
had driven alone in the cab in front of
him all the way from Elbury street, paid
his fare and jumped out.
A small boy had strayed up with
bundle of evening papers, but trade was
slack. and he dashed forward apparent
~ with the forlorn hope that something
might be gained by helping an abe-bod-
led gentleman late for dinner to alight
from hanson cab. Dick Templar
pushed him on one side, ran up the steps
and rang the bell.
The footman who should have opened
the door must have been carrying in the
SOUP for no one came for fully a minute.
Dick tapped his foot impatiently on the
white doorstep and scowled at the small
boy half hidden behind an orange con-
tents bill.
''Killed and Wounded at Battersberg,
Official List" was the most prominent
item of news promised by the bill.
Dick tried in vain to remember what it
was that had happened some days before
at Observation-Disclosures the Beers had
captured a convoy Or saved their own
guns ard decamped, and, as no one came
to the door, he held out penny to the
small boy and rang again.
The "Official List was plain enough
in the Stop-Press kilograms; Dick had
found it before the footman opened the
door.
Yes. sir?" said the man aloud, to at
tract the attention Of the gentleman.
Dick was keeping dinner party Of fully
twenty people waiting in the drawing
room while he read the newspaper.
Officer killed: Capt. G. G. O'Brien,
Dublin Fusilers.' That was what he
had read; one or two other names fol-
lowed, but he did not see them. Mechan-
ically he folded the paper and thrust it
deep into the pocket of the overcoat
which the footman was taking from him
as rapidly as he could.
you are late, and | have had no one to
bring me downstairs" said voice that
brought Dick to hinself with start.
They had resolved tO go into dinner with
out him, and he had been standing in the
hall staring at them iii dazed way, al
most without acknowledging his hosts
nod, as they all fled by, until Mrs.
O'Brien came past alone. She slipped
her arm into his, and he went in, vague
ly. wondering what it was he had to do.
with the widow of a man forty-eight
hours dead prattling beside him about
the heat and the flowers, twitting him
with trivialities as to what might have
made him so late, and rallying him ON his
dullness.
Il suppose it is being married to a
soldier she said, that makes me ac-
customed to punct,uality. Pat is never
late for anything"
1t was the first time she had mentioned
her husband by name that evening, and