The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1902-09-24
a Short Story for an .9dle Moment
HER LADYSHIP- BY katharine lyman.

Her ladyship had eyes like the most
velvety brown pansy.
His lordship was the proudest state
Hest, noblest gentleman imaginable.
She was proud, indeed, by right, be-
ing the granddaughter of old lady
Warrender, the haughtiest and most
exclusive woman, in England, who had
driven her son, poor Archie, away from
her, said the middle-aged men who
had been at Elton with Archie Warren
der, the countess father, and remem-
bered his winning ways, his sunny
curls, his frank and gentle eyes.
Archie was dead, and had left her
his little girl to bring up-a soft, pale
child with frightened brown eyes. He
had married the daughter of a Devon
shire parson. The old lady had not
approved the marriage, and she and
her son had parted. Now that the
child's father and mother were dead,
she was resolved to do her duty by
Archie's daughter.
The child always wore white, thick,
creamy white, that made her eyes
browner,~ her head more russell, her
skin fairer, her soft lips redder.
When her ladyship was seventeen,
love sent his lordship, by accident, to
the somewhat forbidding lodge amid
gloomy woods where Lady Warrender
was hiding away her pearl.
You have done very creditably,"
she said to the shrinking girl. Anyone
who saw those brown eyes at that mo-
ment would have discovered fear in
them. "But, remember, he is inn
mensely proud"
All that was now over and done with.
Lady Warrender was dead. Lord and
Lady st. Austell had been married
more than half a dozen years. They
were more in love with each other than
ever. Yet still her ladyship uncon-
scious of betrayal revealed to the SYM
pathetic gaze some trouble pushed out
of sight.
His lordship was too good a lover not
to be aware of that intangible some
thing. Probably he, too, aScribed 1t to
the loss of the heir. Anyhow, he never
spoke Of 1T; but, when the loneliness
of the brown eyes became more than
he could bear, he would take her lady
ships face between his two hands and
look down into those shrinking depths,
and then, with little sigh, would bid
her ladyship pack up and take Phyllis,
her maid, with her, and be off to the
quiet place in the West Country, which
seemed to have a balm for her cares.
It was the middle Of the season, be-
ing June weather, with hardly a breath
of air, when her Iadyship had a long
ing to be gone to her little refuge I'M
der the cliffs Of Porthoe. She had
been looking white and exhausted,
with purple rings about her eyes, and
1t was his lordship himself who sug-
gested that she should go. and made
light of the difficulties. He, too,
would leave the gayeties behind, and
take the yacht across to France. The
desire for the sea which besets the
Londoner when hot weather comes in
was upon him, and he ina gined what
it was with her.
The blinds were down in st. Austel
House. The yacht was getting up
steam at Southampton. In few hours
more his lordship would be on board.
He came in to find shabbylo looking
letter on his table marked Important"
He opened 1t, expecting to find a
begging letter. The thing smelt rankly
of impudence and imposture. When he
had read it, he smiled contemptuously
before setting light to it in the CRATE.
What Is the secret between your
wife and your wife's maid?" it ran.
"She is not at No. Z, The Beach. Port
hoe, though her letters are received
there. She is at Greenhurst Farm, Ire
madoc, and passes for a single wom-
an
AS he would have placed it on the
Goals it f1uttered from his hand and lay
on the floor He set his heel on it, as
though it lived, before restoring 1t to
the crate. 1t had no power to trouble
his mind this thing of lies and evil
suggestions. Still, he was angry that
1t should be possible for some creeping,
writhing thing Of the darkness to
strike at his wife. 1t shocked and
stung his pride.
Perhaps he had been wrong in al
lowing Lady st. Austell to lay down
her rank so entirely when she made
those excursions. It gave q chance to
such creatures as the writer Of the
letter. Anyhow, the thing had spoilt
the pleasure with which he was look
ing forward to the run before the wind
to Cherbourg Stay! Why not take the
yacht round to Porthoe3 Alice would
be glad to see him by this time, She
had had nearly a week of her solitude.
| He would tell her about the letter, and
writer could be. II he had seen Alice's
| face as she passed out Of his doors for
the last time, he would not have had
much doubt,
| The wind veered to the southeast in
| time to give them Q good run to tAs