The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1900-06-22
X X * X X X * xxx %A
CHAPTER u.-fcontinued.)

is considerably surprised when, at
about 8 o'clock, her son dashes into
the drawing room with speed and ex-
claims:
"The dogcart will be round in five
minutes. Jump into your bonnet,
mother mine, and We'll trot over to
Barrystown."
Mrs. Bouverie stands up, with look
of pleasure and qualification on her
sweet old face. Any little attention
from George touches her heart.
How good of you, my dear boy, to
think of me! So sweet of you, George!"
: she says, reaching upon tiptoe to kiss
his brown cheek, pride and love in her
eyes.
George had refused to go to the
party at Barrystown. He had made an
excuse, and his mother thinks, that,
seeing her disappointment, he has re-
GREETED his decision and changed his
mind.
But are you sure, dear, you don't
mind?" she asks, her sweet eyes on his
face. ut is good of you to give up
your afternoon to take the old woman
out"
"Of course, like going!" George re-
plies, half shame-facedly. "Trot off,
mother, and put on your toggery; I've
got to change. too"
Twenty minutes later very spruce
and well-groomed young man, with
little tiny old lady with bonnet with
violets in 1t sitting perched beside him,
spins down the avenue and out OF the
gates of the Grange at pace little
short of terrific. Mrs. Bouverie is
frightened, but has every confidence in
her son as whip.
HE is very fresh, dear, isn't he?"
she ventures to ask, as the chestnut
performs various frantic evolutions.
"Your aren't frightened little moth
er, are your" George says. I'VE must
hurry along, you know, for we've
good bit to go; but there's nothing to
be afraid of"
The chestnut ~ a rare good goer,
and steadies to his work presently; but
it is dark when they reach Barrys-
town.
80 good of you to come so far, dear
Mrs. Bouverie," Lady Barry says, In a
high pitched, harsh voice; "and you
have brought your son. How very de-
lightful! l know 1t is hard to get
young men to do anything but hunt.
The rooms are full. George Bou-
yeries golden head rises out OF the
crowd. How handsome he looks! Mrs.
Saville, seated on sofa amidst bevy
of friends, remarks witheringly that 1t
is a pity poor dear Mrs. Bouverie has
such bad, unprincipled son.
"He is breaking his mothers heart"
she adds lowering her voice. Poor
thing! she told me herself that she
has never known happiness since he
took to gambling His father, you
know" And here she lowered her
voice still more, and shakes her head
till the osprey in her headgear shakes
like a field of barley when the wind
passes over it.
It won't be Mrs. Savilles fault If
George Bouverie's failings are not
magnified into crimes.
George is looking for Barbara. Per-
haps she is in the tearoom, and thither
he wends his way; and then to the
conservatory, which is off the drawing
room, and lit with lamps to display
the beauty of blossoms there.
Yes, Barbara is there, and Sebastian
is at her side. Barbara's cheeks are
flushed, and her eyes are sparkling
with anger. Sebastian looks moved,
too, out of his usual cynical calm.
Barbara's face as George appears is
revelation, and the mans heart throbs.
"You have come" the girl says soft
ly turning her back on her cousin and
looking up from beneath the brim of
black velvet picture hat trimmed with
ostrich tips. Il thought you weren't
coming"
"Sebestian's face is white, and his
eyes CLEAN. How dare Barbara treat
him like that?
"Will you come back to my mother
now?" he says pointedly to her. you
have seen all the chrysanthemums.
II am going to show them to Mr..
Bouverie," Barbara says, with smile
that after all is forced. IF you are
tired of them, Sebastian. Mr.. Bou-
yerie will take care of me-"
without a word Sebastian Saville
walks of, and then all Barbara's care
less. easy manner vanishes; her lips
tremble, and If the lashes hide her
eyes 1t is because she is striving to
conceal the tears.
"He was cruel TO me-" she falters.
George, am afraid of him."
They are alone, and he takes both
her hands in his in close clasp.
Let us announce our engagement,
Barbara, and give me the right to
champion you"
Not yet" she whispers. We must
wait. George, till hear from father. :"
But that will be weeks and weeks
Barbara" he urges. How am 1 10
wait and see Sebastian Saville perse-
cutting your"
"A faint smile curves her lips IL
Is foolish OF me. George. but / feel