Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-10-11

covered a deep-stained birth-mark. the one
blur upon a peerless beauty. Yet, even this
might be forgotten. as 1t was now.
The companion of the Lady Catharine In
tall and more slender. The heavy hoop con-
cealed much of the grace Of figure which
was her portion, but the poise of the upper
body, free from the seat-back and erect
with youthful strength as yet unspared.
showed easily that here. too, was but an
Indifferent subject for SadlerS. Dark, where
her companion was fair, and with the glossy
texture of her own somber locks showing in
the individual roll which ran back into the
absurd fontange of false hair and false
powder, Mary Connynge made good foil for
her bosom friend; though honesty must adj
init that neither had yet much concern for
foils, since both had their full need of gal
lants. Much seen together, they were COM
monty known the Morning and Eve.
sometimes as Aurora and Eve. Never did
daughter of the original Eve have deeper
feminine guile than Mary Connynge. Soft
of Speech-as her friend the Lady Catha-
rine, was impulsive-slow suave amber
eyed and innocent of visage, this young
English woman. with no dover save that OF
beauty and of wit had not failed Of SEN
Sation at the capital whittier she had come
tains and a squire, to say nothing OF g
equity colonel, had already fallen victims.
and had heard their fate in her low. soft
tones, which could whisper a fashionable
oath in the accent of hymn, and say mo"
so sweetly that one could only beg to hear
the word again. 1t was perhaps of some
such incident that these two young maids
of old London conversed as they trundled
slowly out toward the suburb of the city.
"'Twould have killed you, Lady Kitty;
sure, 'twould have been your end to hear
him speak! He walked the floor upon his
knees, and clasped his hands. and followed
but L feared he would have thrown over
the tabouret with his great feet. And help
me, if l think not he had tears in his
eyes!''
My friend" said Lady Kitty, solemnly,
you must have better care of your conduct.
I'll not have my fathers old friend abused
in his own house" At which they both
burst into laughter. Youth, the blithely
cruel, had its own way in this old coach
upon the ancient dusty road, as it has ever
had.
But now serious affairs gained the atten-
ton of these two fairs. Tell me, sweet
heart" said Lady Catharine. what think
you of the fancy of my new dresser? He
insists ever that the mode In Paris favors a
deep bow, placed high upon the left side
of the tower Montespon of the French
court is said to have given the fashion.
She hurried at her toilet, and placed the
bow there for fault of better care. Hence,
so must we If we are to live in town. So
says my new hair-dresser from Paris. IT'S
to Paris we must go for the modes"
Il am not so sure" began Mary Con-
nynge, las to this arrangement. Now l
am much disposed to believe but what
she was disposed to believe at that time
was not said, then or ever afterward, for
at that moment there happened matters
which ended their little talk; matters which
divided their two lives, and which, in the
end, drove them as far apart as two CONT
nents could carry them.
'Oh. Gemini"' called out Mary Connynge,
as the coachman for a moment slackened
his pace. Look! We shall be robbed'
The driver irresolutely pulled up his
horses. From under the shade Of the hedge
there arose two men, of whom the taller
now stood erect and came toward the car
rage
'''Tis no robber," said Lady Catharine
Knollys, her eyes fastened on the tall figure
which came forward
Save u.s." said Mary Connynge, what a
pretty mani