Free press., 1906-06-02
ACupboard Skeleton
GER TIE DE S. WEBSTER
(Copyright. by Joseph B. Bowles.l
W E EBsTER

a 6ouloSne Sh-W1fe) tr1pped past
with smoke-coiored Persian kitten,
which she was energetically trying to
| raff1e on behalf OF the Ready Ambu-
lance society. 1t was to help along the
R. A. S. funds that the fancy dress
bazar and fete had been organized
Yes, there was no doubt about the
radiance of Lady Farjoyce, and I, who
had been her intimate girl friend
ever since John Farjoyce brought her
from country parsonage to a kings
court, often maryeIed at her unflag-
| ging scintillation.
Presently 1 came across her again.
Got rid of the Persian smoke ball ?"
1 asked
yes, the duchess has got it. She's
so sweet to cats--I wanted the duch-
ess to get it, she answered, with her
charming rapid utterance
"And the duchess got it!'' I replied,
with terrible significance and con-
demnation in my tones. Come and
sit down with me while l consume
some pink cakes and tea.r
The Boulogne fishwifa and I sat
down at one Of the many small tables,
and two minutes later John Farjoyce
and his son joined US.
1t was an irritating fact that a per-
son could never secure ten minutes
with this pretty person who certainly
| helped to keep London alive, without
| the intrusion of Lord Farjoyce and
the boy.
A husband who remains still 1oun-
deringly in love when his heir has
passed the velvet suit and long curls
era, is always more or less of bore
to his wife's women friends.
Tired, darling?" he whispered,
looking into her extraordinarily bril-
| liant dark eyes with a devotion that
to be well-bre1 should cease with the
honeymoon.
Eyes, and no." she replied. Phys
ically I'm stiff-5nentally I'm enjoy
ing myself, and-oh! do look at Mrs
Woodbee's bonnet!-and-what was 1
saying?''
MAY I stop with you for half an
hour, mother?" asked the boy-a
blue-eyed son of his father
Della Farjoyce's voice neither soft
ened nor slackened as she answered
her child. Affection and camaraderie
were there, but the mother note was
absent
Not unless you want to be raff1ed,
my son." she replied. I'm rafting
| everything 1 get hold of to-day
know I shall be asking some one to
take a half-guinea chance on your IA
ther, and-yes, Mr.. Wingate. Cafe
chantant-my turn? What now?
No time for another pink cake? How
how T1ova oil Tryifl1
Louise, you can sit in the front row."
Five minutes later Lady Farjoyce's
mocking red lips were cooling out the
quaint refrain of IN old French patois
song, while her audacious scarlet
stockings and shoes (it was always
mystery how such feet came from a
country parsonage) skillfully broke
into action leaving an impression of
intricate step-danc;ng behind.
That same evening sat alone with
her in her boudoir.
ct should think you must be about
the happiest woman in London!" 1
calculated, involuntarily.
Force of contrast drew the observa-
ton from me. Qt was my birthday,
and I had been thinking about my
self and looking in the mirror a good
deal.)
Would you? Why?"
I was still so busy drawing con-
trasts, that 1 did not observe that
Della had laid down her Russian Gig
arctic, and was resting her white chin
on a white hand decorated by one
single carbochon emerald ring.
''Why?" 1 replied, gazing vaguely
round the shell-shaped room with it's
silken nebulously-tinted walls painted
by Conder. why? Because of every
thing! You have youth, wealth, beau
ty, talent, love, position. health and
everything every woman wants. You
must be the happiest woman in Lon
don, and, besides that, you seem the
happiest woman in Lo1don!"
Before Della Farjoyce answered she
rose from the empire sofa and walked
about the room, the frothy frills of
her silken pink skirts tr;ckling buoy
antly after her across the pearl velvet
carpet.
Suddenly she stopped directly in
front of my chair
You are woman to be trusted, |
Louli, aren't you?" she said, scanning
my features, though she must have
known their unchiseled angles by |
heart.
l did not reply, but l suppose the |
features and our seven years inter /
mittent intimacy must have answered |
for me, because, without further hesi-
tation, the radiant Lady Farjoyce con-
tinued:
Meet me at $3.50 tomorrow morn
ing by the Terminus book Office.
am dolt to do IL. but it will help me
afterwards. can talk to you some
times about it, and there won't be
so much need for perpetral-er-hap-
piness then"
PunctualIy at nalf-past nine ar
rived, but for once Della was before
me.
81 have taken the tickets, come
along" was all she said.
An hour before noon we alighted at
a lethargic country station more no.
ticeabIe for swee= tangle growths of
honeysuckle and climbing roses than