The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1904-06-18
CHAPTER xIy.-Contnued.

ment ne spoke all her ideas flew away, |
and all that she could think Of was
how to get out of the difficulty into
which his abrupt question had thrown
her. So she dashed into the most
foolish little answer that could pos
sibly have come to her lips and STAN
mered out:
"My-ny salary. You-you forgot
TO pay me-"
1t was so absurd, the very utterance
of 1t struck her with such sense of
the faulty of her appearance there,
that the frown on his face changed to
an expression of blank establishment.
Then, after a moments pause, he NUT
tered to himself: "Cheek!"
Beatrice stood before him, not very
near, painting, trembling, unable to
think of another excuse. The scene,
as 1t lay before her then, never faded
from her memory. The stalwart fig
ure Of the man, naughty, full Of right
eous Indignation, his fine face hard
ened with his just anger against her;
the fair stretch of green marsh land
5 behind him, with the scarcely dis
A cerned river flowing lazily. and the
sky family reddening towards sunset
Presently he spoke again:
"You can have your salary by ap-
"A plying to my solicitors. You know
their address, think. Is that all You
want?"
Beatrice struggled to get something
like q voice back, and then croaked
out:
mo, It isn't. I want to warn you
that they haven't caught the man
Burnet thought you ought to know,
to be on your guard"
What business Is that Of yours?"
said Lord Catherington, with slight
twitch Of the shoulders. 1T would
be more to the purpose If you could
tell me where his wife Is that the
divorce papers might be served upon
1o11t hot 20 nf M
have agents at work for me-men.
They can do my work for me without
any assistance"
She bore this taunt meekly, and
said, in the gentlest Of voices:
us there nothing could do for
you? Nothing in the way of woman's
work-sewing, sweeping, mending"
mo, thank you. Women's work.
like all other work, is best done by
men,"
She tried again, her voice failing
her a little:
us there notwithstanding, then,
YES there Is something you can do
to oblige me-" And he came little
nearer. She was not deceived, after
one shy glance at his face into mt think NIX
oblige me very much by never letting
me gee your face again. l wish to be
free from the society Of all women for
ever. You are no exception to the
rule"
And with that lie turned away and
walked, not towards the cottage, for
which he would have had to pass her,
but in the direction of the village
where she had got out Of the train
that afternoon.
Beatrice stood still, not crying, or
sobbing, or protesting, but doggedly
still, with her teeth set. And after a
little while light came into her face
and she turned to the cottage, and
finding the latch unfastened let her
self in.
She looked triumphantly round
The room was the picture Of disorder
It was evident that a small cart-load
of cheap and nasty furniture had been
arranged without the least regard tc
taste or comfort wherever they would
go. There were the ashes Of an eX
tinguished fire in the crate, which nae
no sign Of blacklead; the carpet wa
crumpled up and covered with driet
mud. scraps of paper and litter of al
kinds The table was thickly coate'
with dust, so was the narrow chimney
piece, so was a what-not in the corner
so were the chairs. There was on
curtain, which had been put up wit
tin-tacks, and had given way at on
end. Letters, books, papers, fishing
tackle, odds and ends Of oily rag, Wer
piled in a heap on the small settle
which was the most ornamental u
Gle Of furniture in the room.
Beatrice, while taking off her cloa
and gloves, ran thru into the adjoinin
room. 1t was the sleeping apartment
and the bed looked to her to be sti
unmade.
Then she peeped into the little ou
house which did duty for kitchen
It's condition was disgraceful to the e.
IRENE. A frying-pan, which sme
strongly of fish, a kettle, which ha
been allowed to develop a leak, a tie:
pot with tea-leaves still standing in
plates unwashed, cloths soaking ar
black, which had evidently been use
indifferently for everything. Ihe'
were the signs by which she perceive
that Lord Catheringtons boast that
was well-founded.
After the first look around she 10
no time. She flew about like fail
of light, turning her hand to ever
thing-bed-making washing, polls
ing. Her mother had taught her
"do things" and she finished up tt
work of the first stage by hunting I
another kettle, filling it and putin
1t on the fire to boil.
AS she did this she heard a mar
step, and her heart leaped into h
= mouth. But it was only Sam, wi
stood in the kitchen doorway wi
an exclamation Of dismay. ..
my, ma am! What have you dom
Now the maSter'u know you've be-
here, sure as fate, and shall get t.
sack"
mo, you won't, SAM" she sa
coaxingly Men never notice an
thing. All Lord Catherington will S
Z will be that the bed isn't quite
lumpy as it was last night, and tn
his bacon In the morning doesn't tas
quite so strongly of fried sole. No
have you such a thing as a broor
If so, give it me quick"
Sam looked guilty as she took
broom he brought out from a corn
for she smiled when she saw that
had never been used.
- Sam had been used to swept
down stableyard, but to sweep
room, or to require one swept, seem
to him a superfluous thing, savori
of undue effiminacy. He stood ba
coughing as she began to sweep v
orously.
II think" she said, stopping in
work ''we should do better to
this work performed out of doors"
So And with much reluctance
helped her to carry out the carr
and watched her as she finished
sweeping. Then she set him to VIC
+ to bring in some wood and water, a
FL did the busting herself with sw
neat hands.
The last work Of all was to clear
sottee and to sort out the contents.
This was the last straw.
1zy&