Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1902-10-30
q Uoman' S F ace
FLORENCE WARDEN
Continued.

women WITH low NOlCc0 duu uoWAScoC !
eyes always will have your own way.
But if only l could do anything to
make the country endurable to you it
would make both my husband and me
SO happy. | know it is dull for Tou
to live cast up on hill like this when
you have been used to lots OF society !
and admiration in town, and you /
haven't the resources of thorough |
bred rustic like me. But whenever |
you like to come up to The Crags, we |
will welcome you like the flowers in J
May"
Without meeting her eyes, she |
shook hands with Alma, who an
swered quietly: Thank you, | am
sure you will"
Lady Kildonan then turned to the |
gentlemen. Uncle Hugh, / know it
is Of no use to ask you to come to
luncheon without your little one
am disappointed of my prey for today
at any rate. Dr. Armathwaite," she
held out her hand to him, you told
me last night you had not five minutes
to spare in Mereside. AS | see you
have found some attraction sufficiently
strong to make you change your mind,
| still hope to see you at The Crags
in a day CT two"
Armathwaite started, and STAN
mered as he answered. For indeed
Glasgow and his appointment there
had been thrust out of his mind by the
incidents of the night and morning.
Thank you hundred times" said
he. But at this very moment ought
to be on my way north. | was de
tanned by an accident, and then by the
kind hospitality of Mr.. and Mrs. Cros-
mont. | was just going to ask for
Bradshaw"
Again his eyes felt impeIled to meet
those of Mrs Crosmont, who said in a
soft voice:
And DR.. Peele?"
you are going to see DIR. Peele?"
broke in Lady Kildonan, brightly
Then | can do you a service after all
| am going to Branksome now; [ will
drive you to the doctors house No,
no excuse; | am in a benevolent mood
this morning, and | absolutely must
oblige somebody, either with their
will or against it. Go and put on your
ulster, and hey presto! We'll be gone;
for I've kept my poor ponies waiting
too long, and | can see that I've worn
out Mrs Crosmont's patience"
Armathwaite thanked her, made a
courteous speech to his hostess, and
went into the hall in search of his
overcoat. A servant had taken it
away on the preceding evening to
shake the snow off, and as he looked
for it among the coats which were
hanging on the stand, one of the
maids, darkeyed bright-looking girl
called Agnes, came rushing like tor
nado down the passage to inform him
that she would fetch it, and returned
IN few moments, all smiles and
friendly giggles with the overeoat on
her arm. Agnes was a coquette of
renown, and would always contrive to
be noticed by any man, high or low,
who pleased her fancy. She helped
him on with his coat, and took the
opportunity to compliment him on his
courage in sleeping in the haunted
room.
well Nanny and Nanny is the
other housemaid, sir-we said we
wouldn't have slept in that room, no,
not if it was ever SOL"
This rather vague assertion was
emphasized as though it clinched the
question.
Why, you're not afraid of ghosts
surely!"
oh, well, don't know but what |
might snap my fingers at them in any
other house; but in this one sees such
funny things sometimes that I'm sure
it's enough to make anybody turn in
his grave, or even come out of it, to
see the goings on"
Agnes, delighted to have a chance
of pouring forth such chatter as could
not fail, she felt, to be interesting. was
arranging his coat collar with great
pains when another and shriller voice
from the passage behind them made
her start. Both she and Armathwaite
turned, and found themselves con-
fronted by Nanny, who was a tall and
buNom blonde with face like an
overbloWn baby, and silky fair hair
that curled in little natural tendrils
round her pretty head. She held her
arms a-kimbo, and her infantile feat
res expressed much indignation
For shame, Agnes" she said hotIy,
tut in a sufficiently subdued tone for
her words to travel very little further
than the person she was addressing
TO talk i'll of your own mistress. and
she as kind lady as ever lived, and
you a pretty one to talk indeed! And
nice thing of you to be prating to
strangers, and you just the first per-
son who might be caught tripping
yourself one Of these days. And not
even knowing whether it mayn't be all
right. which I'm sure it is, too, and no
business of yours if it wasn't. Telling
tales on your own breadand-butter,
you serpent's tooth, you!"
Poor Nanny's well-meant if rather
ambiguous eloQuence had the one good
effect of turning her companions
tongue from the dangerous subject:
for Agnes, while expressing her scorn
10 the interruption with calculations
OF wounded pride, seemed really
ashamed of herself, and withdrew
without further gossip. But on the
other hand it reused Armathwaite to
maddening pitch of anxiety, for it
strengthened his belief that there was
x-rx+1 l., Il