The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1904-05-04
CHAPTER XXI.
TAHE sudden and tragic death Of
Constance's foster father

narrated by Straws, set a seal
of profound sadness on the heart OF
the young girl. Good sir adieu" she
had said in the nunnery scene. and the
eternal parting had shortly followed.
Her affection for the old manager had
been that OF loving daughter. The
grief she should have experienced over
the passing of the marquis was trans
ferred TO the memory Of one who had
been father through loves kinship.
In the PARKWAY past. standing at the
bier of her mother the manager ii was
who had held her childish hand, con-
solng her and sharing her allliction,
and i'm those distant but unforgotten
days Of trouble the young girl and the
homeless old man became all i'm all TO
each other
Years had rolled by. The child that
prattled 10y his side became the stately
girl, but the hand clasp at that grave
had never been relinquished. She
could not pretend TO mourn the death
of the marquis. her own father. Had
he not ever been dead TO her-as dead
as the good wife COR bad wifel of that
IOultllAdA as ANtAh as AAb'' ~ -
and AN the other hOnOred and dishOn-
ored figures of that misty past: But
Barnes death was the abrupt severing
Of ties strengthened by years of tender
association and when his last sum
mons came she felt herself truly alone.
In an old cemetery, amid the crum-
bling bricks Barnes was buried, his
sealed tomb above ground bearing in
its inscription the answer to the dukes
query THY Best Of Life Is sleep"
Constance remained i'm New Orleans.
There the old manager had found his
final resting place, and she had no def
mite desire to go elsewhere. Adrift in
the darkness of the present, the young
girl was too perpleXed to plan for the
future, so she remained in the house
Barnes had rented shortly before his
death. An elderly gentlewoman of fall
en- fortunes, to whom this semrural
establishment belonged, Constance re-
tanned as a companion, passing her
time quietly, soberly, almost in soil
tude. This mansion. last remnant Of
it's owners earthly estate, was roomy
and spacious, nesting among the or
anges and inviting seclusion. with its
pretentious wall surrounding the
grounds.
The old fashioned gentlcwoman, poor
and proud. was fitting figure i'm that
ancient house, where in former days
gay parties had assembled. But now
the principal callers at the old house
were the little fat priest with a rosy
smile. who looked after the aged la
dy's soul of which she was most so
lcitous i'm these later days and the
Count de Propriac who came oStcnsi-
bly, to see the elderly woman and chat
about genealogy and extraction. but
was obviously not unmindful of the
presence Of the young girl nor averSe
TO seeking 10 mitigate her sorrow.
Culver. the lawyer. too, came occasion
ally to talk about her affairs. but Of
ten her mind turned impatiently from
figures and markets 10 the subtle
rhythm of Shakespeare. She regretted
having left the stage, feeling the lone
illness of this simple existence. yet
aversc to seeking diversion and shun-
ming rather than inviting society. As
the inert hours Crcpt by she longcd for
the forced WakefulneSs AMI stir Of 9th
or days - happy days Of insecurity.
fleeing. joyous days, gone now beyond
recall,
But while she was striving to solve
these new problems Of her life they
were all being settled for her by fate,
that arrogant meddler. Calling one
morning. Culver noscgay in hand, was
obliged to wait longer than usual and
employed the interval I'm casually eX-
aiming his surroundings and inciden-
tally himself Fir~t, with the vanity
Of youngish old gentlemen, he gaZed
into tall mirror framed in the fan
tastlc style of the early Nonetians, Il
glass which had belonged TO the mar
uuis and had crstwhile reelected the
light beauty Of his noble spouse. Paus-
ing about as long as it would have TAX
en- a lady to adjust a curl, he peeped
into u Dutch cabinet of ebony and
mother Of pearl and was studying a
charming creature painted on ivory,
whose head. like that of Bluebeard' S
wife. was subsequently separated
from her lovely shoulders. when a
light footStcp behind him interrupted
his scrutiny. Turning, he greeted the
young girl and with stately gallantry
presented the nosegay.
How well you are looking" he said
Though there might be a little more
color perhaps. like some of these flow
crs. If were a doctor ! should pre-
scribe less cloister, more city"
She took the flowers, meeting his
kindly gaze with faint smile.
Most patients would like such pre-
scriptions," he went on. II should sool
become popular society physician
But, although lie spoke lightly, hii
manner was partly forced, and he re
garded her furtively. Their brief &C
qualntancc had awakened in him an i'm
terest half paternal, half curious Wo
men were an unknown but bssutifu
quantity. From the vantage point OF
q life Of single blessedness he vaguely
but QulXoticaly placed them in the