Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1900-02-17
CHAPTER Nv.

III Is quite me IoVelleSt ola place IN the
worldr says Mrs. Bohun, in her soft plain
tive voice. speaking very enthusiastically.
I'VE ought to be more than grateful to you,
dear Miss Blake, for letting Us see it,
Miss Priscilla reddens with suppressed
but say
"Tut tut, my dear! 1t is only funny
old-fashioned spot, after all, " in quite an Off
hand manner.
1t is Friday,--tte Friday,-as the Misses
Blake have been thinking of 1t for days, in
fear and trembling, as being the date of
their first hospitable venture for many
years.
All the Aghyohillbeg party, and the men
from Clonbree Barracks, and some other
] ,hbors, are strolling through the sweet
antiquated gardens of Moyne, hedged with
yews Enthusiastically cut. The roses, white
and red and yellow, are nodding their heads
lazily, bowling and courtesying to the pass
ing breeze. The stocks and mignonette are
filling the air with perfume. Tall lilies are
smiling from distant corners, and the little
merry burn, tumbling over its gray bowl
ders through the garden, is singing loud
and happy song, in which the birds in the
trees above join heartily.
The lazy hum of many insects makes ons
feel even more perceptibly how drowSy.
sweet is all the summer air.
Mrs. Bohun has now fitted away with
Monica, who in her white gown looks the
prettiest flower Of all, in this wilderness of
Sweets" with the tall, infatuated Ryde and
handsome young Ronayne in their train.
Mrs. Bohun, who is in one of her most mis-
chievous moods to-day, has taken it into her
head to snub Lord Rossmoyne and be all
that is of the sweetest to Ulic Ronayne, a
proceeding her cousin, Mis-. Herrick regards
with dismay.
Not so, however, does Bella Fitzgerald re-
gard it. She, tall, and with a would-be
stately air, walks through the grounds at
Lord RosSmoyne's side, to whom she has
attached herself, and who, fdute de mieur,
makes Himself as agreeable as he can to
her, considering how he is inwardly raging
at what he is pleased to term Olga's dis
graceful behavior.
Miss Priscilla has now been seized upon
by Madame O'COnnor and carried off for prl-
vate cOnfab.
And you really must let her come TO us
for week, my dear" says Madame O'Con-
nor, in her fine rich brOgue. Yes, now,
really want her. 1t will be quite favor.
| can't withstand pretty face, as you well
know; It's weakness Of mine, my dear,
and she is really a pearl. Olga Bohun is
talking of getting up tableauX or some such
nonsense, and she wants your pretty child
to help U.S.
Il should like her to 60 to you. 1t is very
kind of YOU" says Miss Priscilla, but with
unmistakable hesitation.
Nov, What is it? Out with it, Priscilla!'
says Madame O'Connor, bluntly.
Miss Priscilla struggles with herself for
yet another minute, and then says quickly
"That young man Desmond, will he be
staying In your houSe?'
Not If you object, my dear" says Mrs.
O'Connor, kindly; Though do think 1t Is
q pity to thwart that affair. He is nice
and as pleasant a young fellow as | know,
and would make jewel of husband; and
money-say what you like, my dear Pris-
cilla--is always something. 1t ranks high
er than rcrcnge."
There is no revenge. 1t is only a just
resentment"
'Well, I'll call it by any name you like,
my dear, but ] must say"
II must beg, Gertrude, you will not discuss
this unhappy subject says Miss Priscilla,
with some agitation.
"Well, won't, then. There let it lie, y
says Madame O'COnnor, gOod-humoredly.
"And tell me, now, if come over to fetch
Monica on Monday, will she be ready fOI
me?'
Quite ready. But we have not consulted
her yet" says Miss Priscilla, clnging to a
broken reed.
Olga is talking to her about it. And il
she's the girls she looks, she'll be glad of a
phnnnn anI fha nl,annn nf a GNynnth rt y
says Madame oconnor' gayly.
"What lovely liliesv says Mrs. Bohun,
standing before tall white group.
"Oh, don'tI' says Owen Kelly, who has
joined her and Monica. whenever hear
a lily mentioned think of Oscar Wilde, and
it hurts very much"
II like Oscar Wilde. He = quite nice,
and Uerg amusing" says Olga.
IL wonder if | could make my hair grow, ,
says Mr.. Kelly. meditatively. He's been
very clever about his; but suppose some
body taught him."
"Well, think long hair is dirty" says
Mrs. Bohun, with an abs;racted glance al
Ronayne's Ii, ltly-shaven head.
Then, as though tired of her sweet role
and of its object (ROnayne) and everything
she turns capriclously aside, and, motoning
away the men with her hand and small
frOwn, sits down at Hernia Herr.ck's fee
and plucks idly at the grasses near her.
80 we are dismissed" says Kelly, shrug
ging his shoulders. Monica has disappeared
long ago with the devoted Ryde. You
queen has her tempers, Ronayne."
"There are few things so clOying as per
fection," says Ronayne, Loyalty.
II entirely agree with you,-SO much 81
that hope Providence will send me al ugly
wife, She--I beg your pardon-Mrs. BohuI
does pretty much what she likes with YOU
doesn't She"
Altogether what she likes. She's beer
doing ii for so long now that suppose shell
go on TO the end of the chapter. | hope i
will be long one. Do you know says th,
young man, with rather sad little laugh
lit sounds of course rather poor thing t.
say, but really think it makes me happy
being done what she likes with"'
"It is only to oblige friend that shoGl,
seek to understand such a hopelessly in
VOWED sentence rs that" says Nj. Kelly
wearily. Bat have maraeed IT, YoU'r
as bad case as ever came across, Ronayne
and | pity you. But pom my soul, respec
you too," with flash of admiration; ''ther
is nothing like being thoroughly in earnest
And so wish you luck in your wooing,"
You're very good fellow, Kelly" say'
Ronayne, gratefully.
In the mean time, Olga, tiring of tearing
her grasses to pieces, looks up at Hernia
How silent you are!' she says.
II thought that was what you wanted
silence. You have been talking all day
And, besides, if speak at all, it will b.
only to condemn
Nevertheless speak. Anything is better
than this ghastly quiet; and, besides, frank
ly, need not mind you, you know"
'YCu are flirting disgracefully with tha
Ronayne boy"
"What harm, if he is boy?''
He is not such boy as all that comes to
and if you don't mean it, you are overkinC
to him."
He's my baby" says Olga, with littl,
laugh; Il often tell him so. Why should