Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1900-08-25
CHAPTER XVIII.


THE duchess has a wonderful memo
ry,' says Evelyn, with little amused
glance.
ITO be so distinctly remembered is
very tlattering" returns he drily. yet
with a strong touch of amusement, too.
And the weather-what a resource
it isl continues she mischicvously.
1T was through the weather principal
~ that she seemed to remember our first
meeting, therefore l should be grateful
to it," responds he, adapting himself to
her mood
Weather. says Mr.. BIount, ,gloomily,
10 praise that. There's only one weather
in England. And that's the very mis-
chief"
Il don't think that; do you. Mr. Craw-
ford?" says Evelyn. See what deli
cious day this is, and all last week was
just as lovely"
well, we'll pay for it. You'll see
says Mr.. Blount, who is evidently de-
termined to take a pessimistic view of
all things, with the idea, perhaps, of
checking the unlimited hilarity that pre-
walls all around. 1--WE all know what
an English summer means-of late. One
hot day, and then-the deluge."
go away, Batty! You're in a bad
temper" says Miss darcy.
rs that hintT' retorts he. He rises
with pretended confusion, and having
cast a glance full of deepest .reproach al
Evelyn (who returns it with stony
His melancholy has forsakcn him. He is
himself again. He has scored one in the
late encounter. He has stopped short,
medtating further vengeance, when
behold, it comes TO him ready made.
Eaton Stamer walks almost actually into
his arms.
''Where are you going?" says Mr..
Blount. Selling hun by both elbows.
Not so fast, That seat there" indi-
eating the one he has just quilted. and
towards which Eaton is evidently steer
ing lis tabooed They've just turned me-
out of it,
bartholomew says Miss Darcy. in
'"Tis true-give you my word persists
Mr.. Bount plaintively. Don't mind
her. I'm the true Thomas on this occa-
sion. In fact" tucking his arm, into
Eaton's. 8 Two is company-three's
trumpery.'
Stamer, whose face has changed good
deal in spite of his efforts to accept the
whole thing as a joke frees himself light
ly Of Blount's arm, and looks at Evelyn:
There is a match being arranged"
says he; you and | against Mrs. Week
ling Wyldc and Harcourt. Will you
plav?"
There is something unpleasant. defiant,
in his tone, but that she scarcely real
ICES.
1T is so warm" says she hesitatins,
land here
80 cool" supplements he, smiling al
ways. but so ioyleSsly. She had heSitat-
ed. but not with settled determination
to refuse, merely with the natural feeling
OF relief that the shade has given her,
and a Discrimination to leave it. Still, she
would have played-wth him.
1T is cool" says she absently, think
ing Of the coming game he has proposed
to her. and even daring to see herself
and him victOrs in it. She has expect
ell perhaps a little pressure-the old de-
Sirabe peremptory. You must come, y
on his part 10 which she has been ac-
customed-and is waiting for it. But he,
seeing Crawford beside her, and having
guessed his secret, and being filed with
foolish jealousy. let's all things go.
on are wise he says, smiling al
ways. but now with open coldness. The
sun is intolerable. You will he happier
here in the shade Marian will perhaps
take your place"
soon lost to sight behind the rhododen-
drons. He has gone so quickly that the
swift movement to recall him has been
nnnoticed. 1t was an almost impercepti-
bile one, and once controlled she is glad
That II had not been seen.
Marian! Marian would supply her
place. Well. Marian is a good player.
Not quite perhaps so good as she is at
tennis, but in all other ways how hope
leSSly superior. Yes. Marian can take
her place And what was it that Mrs.
Naudrey had said?
Il hate this place" says she. rising
suddenly. and turning large troubled
eyes on II. Crawford. 1T is sitting,
Surely there must be air somewhere"
In the gardens?" suggests he.
There, if anywhere l suppose" re-
turns she with Il rather tired little smile.
The day is waning. Half-past has
sounded from the clock in the old tower.
Most Of the visitors have departed and
only the house party sir lounging upon
chairs and cushions a7d rugs, en-
'rylng the last dying rays Of the sun
i,,ght. Every body is little tired. little
,hsincllned 10 stir. n good deal inclined
towards seriousness. Everybody that i.
except Mr. Biuunt. lie is neither tired
nor serious, and is about IS restless as
be can TO-
lie Is Ut present chasing the little duke
To@nd and round a flower bed his grace
screaming with that imagined terror