Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1902-01-15
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Woman vs.. Woman.


She gave little gasp and sat down.
The hotel porter discreetly looked the
other way; he was enjoying the little
scene greatly; the Mt. Seymour Hotel
provided many of them. The girl was
young and pretty; the hand which
teyed with the letter before her was
studded with valuable rings, among
them narrow one of gold. 1t was
evident that she was a wife. There
was no husband to greet her, though
the car with her luggage from the mall
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 q handsome, darl-eyed man
only few hours before.
Monsieur lie Capitaine he say, Give
to de lady direct she come Helm, I
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, 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.
tits 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
1 got here. All! there is Mrs. de Ia
Fame; she's pretty woman, if you
like. 1 was introduced to her this
morning by old Vigors."
He sprang to his feet and offered his
chair to a 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. It 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 Il
side pocket in his coat.
I have got little bag here" he
said with meaning-which contains
we'll, few papers Of Importance.
"Oh!" laughed Mrs. de la Fame. 81
see. You are one of Kitchener's mes
senger boys. Rather satisfactory
berth, isn't it, Captain? No risk, no
worry, no exertion."
John Beresford caught those violet
eyes again full in his own. His heart
beat faster. He did not care to appear
as one of no Importance in this wom-
ans eyes. His mission demanded Sc
crecy, yet for the moment his tongue
ran away with him.
"You are wrong, Mrs. de la Fame
he smiled in reply. "The papers would
be worth-well, lot to Kruger or b.
tha."
A sudden CLEAN came into the wom-
ans eyes. John Beresford saw it, but
thought nothing of it. The sill1en tolls
were already about him.
Come and lunch with me, Capt.
Beresford, and you, too, Mr.. Dennis"
said Mrs. de la Fame.
Two days passed away. Mu,iel Mo-
lyneux felt inexpressibly 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 ds.v
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
quiet of the gardens overlooking the
sea appealed to her. After dinner on
the third evening after her arrival
Muriel slipped out alone and paced the
gravel paths in angry impatience with
her fate The gardens were empty.
Her white dress looked ghost-lile in
the shadows.
In little summer house at the fur
thest limits of the garden, bitter tears
rose into her eyes as she thought Of
her own incapacity. her own enforced
idleness. Suddenly voice at her ell
bow startled her. Some one thrust a
note into her hand, with the words: