Republican news item. [volume] (Laport, Pa.) 1896-19??, 1901-12-12


scene greatly; the Mt. Seymour Hotel
provided many of them. The girl was
young and pretty; the hand which
toyed with the letter before her was
studded with valuable rings, among
them narrow one of gold. 1t was
evident that she was wife. There
was no husband to greet her, though
the car with her luggage from the mail
boat was standing at the door. AL
phonse had had the pleasure of hand
ing her the letter; it had been given
to him by handsome, dark-eyed man
only few hours before.
Monsieur lie Capitaine he say, Give
to de lady direct she come Helm, l
do give"
The girl arose, her blue eyes dim
with tears; the susceptible Alphonse
was overwhelmed.
Marie" she said to her maid, Capt
Molyneux has been ordered up to Pre-
toria; he only left today. Please see
to the boxes"
She crossed the hall toward the ele-
vator and disappeared.
Many eyes had watched the little
drama; the lounging chairs in the hall
were all occupied; officers on sick
leave, men convalescent and men on
their way up to the front or back to
old England. Women, too, some grass
widows, a few real widows, many more
with no special concern in the war at
all. But it was the war which had
drawn them to Cape Town-the war,
or, rather, the soldiers who were fight
ing. Where else but to the Mt. Sey-
mour Hotel should they go? Rank and
fashion, joy and misery, virtue and
vice rubbed shoulders in that fashion
able and eXorbitant hostelry.
"Ah, pretty woman" drawled
young Dennis of the -th Lancers.
"Who is she?" queried his compan-
ion
John Beresford rose languidly from
his chair and satisfied his curiosity at
the porter's Office.
''It's Bob Molyneux's wife," he said
to his friend. Fancy. One of my old
est pals. was so sick at having missed
him this morning. He left just before
l got here. All! there is Mrs. de la
Fame; she's a pretty woman, if you
like. l was introduced to her this
morning by old Vigors."
He sprang to his feet and offered his
chair to tall. graceful woman who
had entered the hall as he spoke.
She accepted it with a smile, and in
moment the little group attracted all
eyes. Mrs. de la Fame was one of the
leading spirits of the hotel; the ac-
knowledged beauty, whose wonderful
eyes drew every man into her tolls.
Her husband was rolling in money:
he was reported to be a johannesburg
millionaire; but the reports were ra-
ther vague. 1t was sufficient for her
admirers that he spent his money like
water, gave the best dinners a man
could wish to sit down to, and did not
scowl when other men smiled at his
WIFE
What brings you down to Cape
Town, Capt. Beresford?' asked Mrs.
de la Fame. Major Vigors tells me
your regiment is in the thick of it
Just now" She raised her great vio-
let eyes to the young mans face as
she spoke.
The implication underlying the word
stung him. He flushed, and tapped a
side pocket in his coat.
L have got a little bag here" he
said with meaning-which contains
well, few papers of Importance
"Oh!" laughed Mrs. de la Fame. 81
see. You are one of Kitchener's mes
senger boys. Rather a satisfactory
berth, isn't it, Captain? No risk, no
worry, no exertion."
John Berosford caught those violet
eyes again full in his own. His heart
beat faster. He did not care to appear
ans eyes. His mission demanded Sc
crecy, yet for the moment his tongue
ran away with him.
You are wrong, Mrs. de 10 Fame"
he smiled in reply. "The papers would
be worth-well, lot to Kruger or Bo-
tha."
sudden CLEAN came into the wom-
ans eyes. John Beresford saw it, but
thought nothing of it. The silken tolls
were already about him.
Como and lunch with me, Capt.
Beresford, and you, too, Mr.. Dcnnis,''
said Mrs. de Ia Fame.
Two days passed away. Muriel Mo-
lyneux felt inexprcssibly lonely. This
bustling. frivolous atmosphere of hotel
Jared on her. Tortured with anxiety
for her husband, she hated the laugh
ter, the music, above all, the society.
She kept aloof from it all. Her hus-
band was an intelligence officer; she
knew that he was never sure from day
to day where he would sleep the fol-
lowing night. To attempt to follow
him to the front was impossible.
Now Muriel, for all her great love
for her husband, was an enthusiastic
little patriot. This dreary, useless idle
ness to which she was condemned
taxed her nerves to the uttermost The
qriet of the gardens overlooking the
f0 hnr