The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1900-10-17

doubtless .tdCh NOUlu u0NSE nave Uctu
captured by woman who was not good
looking And a woman of the world al
so? Jack hated school girls! "Neverthe-
less unused Mrs. Maxwell, contemplate
ing her reflection complacently III one
of the mirrors OF the gaming rooms,
Il think | ought to be capable of hold
ing my own against the lady, | really
do!'
The wrong horse came in again, and
again. undeterred by i'll fortune, she
drew ticket from the bowl.
AS she lifted her head she felt her hus-
band beside her give a galyanic start.
The next instant, following the direction
plain" she meditated evidently
fallen off! Now, 1 wonder if she has
charm of manner enough to make him
lose sight Of that, or if | dare venture
on an heroic courseT'
My DARING, don't you think we've
played this idiotic game long enough %
said Jack in a strained voice. Let us
go into the terrace
So be could not even trust himself in
the same room with her, couldn't he?
1t was too bad; really, it was humiliat-
ing
You go dearest" replied Mrs. Max
well, sweetly Il know you hate to be
here, and | am much too infatuated to
leave off yet myself. Go and smoke
your cigar in peace and the fresh air,
and come back for me when you've fin
ished it. | shall be perfectly safe, and
[ mean to break the bank"
Jack departed obediently, and out of
the tail Of her eye his wife watched the
other woman take note of it.
Now, will she follow him or not?"
she asked herself Not just yet. l sup
pose-it would be too marked. Patien-
zar'
It was ten minutes later when Mrs
Jernyngham sauatered carelessly from
her place at the table out through the
glass door. and Mrs. Maxwell clasped her
hands in her lap with sudden nervous
ness. After all it was an heroic course
Had she been rash and foolhardy? There
was moonlight outside, and the tapping of
waves. Fatal adjuncts to such a matter
In the moonlight, too, the creatures ap-
pearance would be softened and refined
She had made a mistake, perhaps--sha
had placed him in temptation she
would have avoided. Should she join
him-orescue him, while there was still
stand her chance. Moonlight or no
moonlight, she would risk it. 3
Two francs more-and the devil take the
hindmosI
=
They came face to face-she had
planned it so-and her slight gesture of
surprise was perfect.
"How do you do, Mrs. Jernyngham
T. He was going to say he was pleased
to meet her, but decided not to.
Il did not know you were in Dieppe
Have you been here long?'
L have been here, with my wife, about
a month" he answered
With your wife? Really" She gave
faint smile-a smile he remembered
very well. $50 you are married-am [
to congratulate you?'
THANK YOU he said; 'you are very
kind: Your husband is"
He's dead; so don't inquire about his
health. You were always making blum
| used to correct you in that fashion long
ago, didn't I? You see, [ haven't
changed. Well, well, well, and so you're
married? | told you you'd marry
didn't believe me then!'
All but you were right"
"Ofo course l was right. shan't we sit
| down?-or won't your wife let YOU?
say, are you henpecked? You used to
be the sort of boy who'd be henpecked
Perhaps you've improved since those
days"
Perhaps I have. There are two
Thanks. Do you know this is very
lty of a married man? Do you remem-
Der how you used to VOW that never,
never, never She broke off and
burst into laughter again. ''And shall I
own something? After you were gone
sometimes when I was inclined to be SEN
timental-I used to half believe you"
She leaned forward and fixed her eyes
on him in just the manner he used to
| find so irresistible. Somehow it seemed
less distracting now. The eyes had not
altered perhaps, but her face was older
and that expression looked out of place
on it. There was even a sadness to him
in beholding the change that time had
wrought in her. The woman whose
memory had thrilled him so was gone
He had thought about her so much, and
now she did not exist. 1t was pathetic
| and-what was more painful still--this
wreck of Nora Jernyngham could not
join with him in mourning for her. He
Wept alone.
''You are not glad to see me.' she said
He was not; he was sorry. His very
soul was full of regret, of sympathy
But he could not tell her so, and he
listened for ten minutes courteously to
>her distressing proyocations, her dis
heartening pleasantries. Then he rose.