The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1902-09-24
a Short Story for an gdIe Moment
HER LADYsHIp- Katharine lyman.

West coast. They put in at Plymouth.
His lordship was not inclined to give
away the secret of his Wifes resting
place. He walked over the cliffs, a
He found No. 7, The Beach, easily,
and asked for Mrs. ST. Austell
The old woman who had come in an
sWer to his knock stared at him.
"She hasn't been here for a week
come Thursday" she said. "She slept
one night here, herself and her cousin.
Then they be off inland. If you're like
to see her, you may as we'll take her
letters. The cousin calls for them
twice a week. A great bundle there is,
TO be sure.
He received the bundle without
word, and noticed that two or three Of
his own letters were among them. No
one would have supposed, as he turned
away, lifting his hat to the old woman,
that he had received a violent shock
not that he doubted Alice, of course,
only that she had secrets from him;
that it was all underhand, this giving
one address and living another, this
passing off her maid as her cousin. Tt
was incredible. He had been as sure
Of his wife's dignity and sense of honor
as he had been of Heaven.
He left the village behind him star
ing at his height and appearance, and,
having received vaguely an impression
of the old Woman'S Instructions to him
to take the path over the Head and
strike across the moors till he came to
Treen, and then ask further, he went
on, forgetting that he had already had
ten stiff miles of walking, and gone
some hours without a meal.
AS he went on the tumult of his
thoughts became quieter. Of course,
Alice would have an explanation. He
had never really doubted her. The
hurt had gone no further than his
pride, and his concern for her dignity
He had left Plymouth SO early and
had walked SO quickly that after all,
it was still early in the forenoon when
he found himself climbing the billy,
twisting green lane that led to Green
hurst Farm. He could see it's golden
ricks and great chimneys, its gables
covered in ivy and honeySuckle, at the
end Of the lane now. The lane mean
dered along the side of a mild-hill.
There was a little valley below him,
with a stream running through it, so
harmless that it might be crossed by
stepping stones. Beyond it was an
other mild green hill.
AS he closed the last gate and came
out on the velvety green space in front
of the red brick Elizabethan farm
house, he saw the figure of a girl
churning at an old fashioned churn.
Up and down went the handle. He
caught glimpse Of beautiful arms.
The figure in it's print frock was ex
quisite. The head Why the
girl turned and looked at him, and he
saw the scared face of his wife,
He shrank from the terror in her
eyes as though she had dealt him
blow. He had no time to think what
beautiful dairymaid she was.
Come, child" he said, don't look so
frightened. Come and tell me why you
are masquerading here"
She had dropped the handle Of the
churn. He took her hand, wet with the
milk, and led her aside where a gate
opened into an overgrown orchard. No
one had come out of the farmhouse,
and they were alone, excepting for the
shrieking black pislets that fed be-
fore them, and the hen with her doWny
chickens, and the turkeys brood.
He felt that she was trembling, and
he made her sit down on a stone seat
that had been built about an apple
trunk.
"Now?" he said, holding her hand.
you will never forgive me-" she
painted, and her eyes had the helpless
fear of an animal or child
II love you," he said, land can for
give anything except fear of me-"
'You will never forgive me-" she said
again. "It will be as she said-you
will turn away from me-"
LAS who said?'
my grandmother. She terrified me
into acquiescing in her deceit. And l
loved you-oh, I loved you, else, per-
haps, I could have stood out against
her I couldn't lose you. Now, l have
lost you foreverl'
She covered her face with her hands
and shook from head to foot.
You have not lost me-" he said, put
ting an arm about her. II am always
yours. Nov, tell me what was the de-
ceit?'
She looked at him, then dropping
her hands into her lap. She had the ex-
preston of one at the stake
"It is good to tell you, after ALL" she
said, drearily. IF you could know
how it has come between us! There
was never any Rev Richard Lorrimer,
perpetual 'curate of Dene- Arden. Ny
grandfather is the old man in there
She indicated with a movement Of
her head the farmhouse which they
had turned their backs, upon.
"And Phyllis is your cousin?" he
asked.
Yes, she is my cousin. She was al
ways devoted to me in the old days,
before ] was taken away from where
I WAS SO happy. She is the only one