The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1904-04-04
Cbe Rove Chat never Dies
1.-THE
The Inn by the ,
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! "Ahl Your chi1d-your poor child!
Forgive me. had forgotten. Where
Is it?"
The dead baby! For the moment
she had forgotten it, there was a
had been shown; and she had laid
the poor little body down on a settee
in the corner of the room.
'The-the dead ones upstairs"
stammered she, staring at him with
wild eyes. "But-"
He would not let her go on. Did
she want to go on? Or was she, in
spite Of herself, grateful for the ex-
cuse his promptttude in action gave
her, and thankful to be dragged deep
er into the mire Of deception?
Lord Catherington. moving and
speaking ever SO softly, had already
rung the bell.
We'll have doctor here at once"
said he. "And-and try not to grieve"
Indeed, there was no grief in her
face, nothing but a sort Of bewildered
terror-"and things will come right
in time. You shall be consoled-you
snail, indeed. Ermyn-my daughters
name is Ermyn, as well as I can make
out-well, her little hands shall COM
fort you; You love her already, do
you nOt?"
Mechanically she bowed her head.
bring the tears to her eyes.
Before she could recover herself
the door opened and the white-haired
servant brought in a small table, on
which light repast of cold viands
mad already been prepared, and places
laid for two persons.
| This was the best we could do. NV
lord, at such short notice. said the
man gravely. IT trust you will excuse
deficiencies under the circumstances"
| capital, capital" said Lord Cath
erington, pointing out the spot where
ne wished the table to be placed, and
: leading the way to the table. Mrs.
Froyle, will you sit here?"
She would have refused, but the
Vlscount was one of those persons
; whom there is no resisting. Before
she could frame any sort Of excuse,
he had gently taken hold Of her arm,
y and placed her in a chair at the
table.
:. You are tired, probably hungry y
: said he, peremptorily. "a slice of
7, cold pheasant and a glass of cham
+ payne will do you all the good in the
y world. Eat, eat; don't look so fright
y ened and miserable. I'm not such a
bear as 1 seem, indeed
Thus adjured, Beatrice tried to
l obey. She was making up her mind,
! in tremulous and guilty way, to go
e on with the farce until she should
e be found out, an event which, so she
). told herself, was bound to occur be-
e fore long. She seemed already to
t nave so STEPPED herself in deceit and
8 disgrace that to go back was impossi-
d pie; she was desmirched forever. With
h dull obedience, therefore, she ate what
n was put-before her, casting from time
to time glance at her sleeping child
= by the fire, and noting, with alarm
= as we'll as a vague content. that the
Is rect1on even oftener than did her own
{ indeed, the marvellous ease with
n Which he had accepted the fiction Of
the child's being his own filled hel
. with amazement. He must indeed bt
q anxious for some BARN of his own t.
IS love and cherish, thought she, to wei
come the little intruder so quickly ant
et so warmly.
Il They did not linger over the meal
!, and the viscount seemed in haste TO
# 1t to be over. Then he ordered TIN
table to be removed just as 1t hat
70 been brought in, and, giving the oil,
70 butler note to be taken to a docto
j. whose name he gave, he returne,
lg, quickly to the fireside, where Errnyn
l. trude was opening her blue eyes.
" "Mammy!" muttered she, sleepily
le and Beatrice caught her up and cud
i'd died her in her arms, not daring t
Sc rise from the armchair which Lor
Catherington had placed for her.
le There! She calls you .mammy!'
?" cried he, delighted, while Beatric
ID turned red and then white. LET !
be SO; let her call you so always
+ Poor child, poor child! You'll be
real mother to her, I know"
he Beatrice said nothing. Again con
n. fession trembled on her lips; agai
Of the viscount's quick actions an
brusque talk prevented her.
= you don't mind smoke. I hope !?
III said he.
Sc She attempted to rise, but h
e; Don't go. TIL give up my cigar,
~ you object to it. 7 don't want to b
=, left alone"
~ ooh, smoke then, pray. I don
IL IL mind it bit" said Beatrice, tremu
- lousy.
ne $50 glad. I don't feel myself with
out something of this sort between m
ma lips. To tell you the truth like m
he pipe best; but I'm trying to return t
as civilization, and even to come dow
to to those foolish little makeshifts-cie
to arettes But it takes time. You ca
Id see I'm savage" he went on, as h
he sank back In the chair he had pre-
viously occupied, while Ermyntrud
IL settled herself for sleep again. 81 hav
got out of the old ways; been rough
hit ing 1t in North America for twent
Nv years. ever since I was IT. And no,
he I've come back don't feel at HON
SO here; I hate this old barrack Of
.ly nousei ! hate the silent, obsequior
servants; begin to understand VIII
NJ my own father grew remorseful an
h. eccentric and intolerable and intoIel
ant, living in such an atmosphere
IT stuffy and yet bleak at the same fine
GU In spite of her own cares, Beatric
nv grew rather interested.
II thought you must have bee
ais away from England some time ha,
arded she, In meek little voice; an