The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1906-07-31
ACupboardS Skeleton
Copyright. by Joseph B. Bowles.)
GERrIH DEE. WEBSTER

with a smoke-colored Persian kitten,
which she was theoretically trying to
rattle on behalf OF the Ready Ambu
lance society. 1t was to help along the
R. A S. funds that the fancy dress
bazaar and fete had been organized.
Yes, there was no doubt about the
radiance of Lady Farjoyce, and |, who
had been her intimate girl friend
ever since John I'arjoyce brought her
from a country parsonage to a kings
court, often marveled- at her unflag
ging seintillation-
Presently 1 came across her again.
4'Got rid of the Persian smoke-b ball? ?"
asked.
Yes, the duchess has got it, She's
so sweet to cats--I wanted the Ouch
ess to get it," she answered, with her
charming rapid utterance.
And the duchess got it," | replied,
with terrible significance and con-
demnation in my tones. Come and
sit down with me while consume
some pink cakes and tea"
The Boulogne fishwife and l 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 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 foun-
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-bred should cease with the
honeymoon.
Eyes, and no, she replied. phys
ically I'm stiff-nentally I'm enjoy
ing myself, and-oh! do look at Mrs
Woodbee's -and-what was
saying?"
MAY l stop with you for half an
hour, mother?" asked the boy-a
blue-eyed son of his father.
Della Farjoyce's voice neither soft
sned nor slackened as she answered
ner child. Affection and camaraderie
we're there, but the mother note was
absent.
mot unless you want to be raffled,
my son." she replied. I'm rafting
everything l get hold of to-day
know l shall be asking some one to
take half-guinea chance on your ia
Their, and-yes, Mr.. Wingate. Cafe
chantant-my turn? . What now?
No time for another pink cake? How
barbarous! +. Come along with me,
Louise, you can sit in the front row."
Five minutes later Lady Farjoyce's
mocking red lips were cooling out the
| quaint refrain of an old French patois
song, while her audacious scarlet
stockings and shoes Git was always a
mystery how such feet came from a
country parsonage skillfully broke
into action leaving an impression OF
intricate step-dancing behind.
That same evening 1 sat alone with
her in her boudoir.
81 should think you must be about
the happiest woman in Londonl"
calculated, involuntarily.
! Force of contrast drew the observa-
ton from me. ct was my birthday
and 1 had been thinking about my
self and looking in the mirrer a good
deal.)
would you? Why?"
was still so busy drawing con.
trasts, that l did not observe tha
Della had laid down her Russian Gig
arctic, and was resting her white CHR
on a white hand decorated by one
single carbochon emerald ring.
"Why?" l replied, gazing vaguel!
round the shell-shaped room with it,
silken nebulously-ti walls painted
by Gender. why? Because of every
thing! You have youth, wealth, beau
ty, talent, love, position. health ant
everything every woman wants. Yol
must be the happiest woman in Lon
don, and, besides that, you seem tn,
happiest woman in Londoni"
Before Della Farjoyce answered sh
rose from the empire sofa and walket
about the room, the frothy frills o
her silken pink skirts trickling buoy
antly after her across the pearl velve
carpet.
Suddenly she stopped directly il
front of my chair.
''You are a woman to be trusted
Louli, aren't your" she said, scanning
my features, though she must hav
known their unchiseled angles b
heart.
/ did not reply, but l suppose tn
features and our seven years inter
mittent intimacy must have answere
for me, because, without further hesi
tation, the radiant Lady Farjoyee con
tinued:
Meet me at $3.50 tomorrow morn
ing by the Terminus book office.
am dolt to do ie. but it will help m
afterwards can talk to you some
times about it, and there won't
so much need for perpetual-er-haI
piness them
Principally at half-past nine | al
rived, but for once Della was befoI