The herald-advance. (Milbank, S.D.) 1890-1922, 1907-11-15

might be. but standing upon the
hearthrug and n%ervously swinging a
thin umbrella, the jewelled handle Of
which sparkled in the freight.
"Ah, William" she said at n In
an agttated voice. letting him lead her
to a chair while she was speaking
"Ah, William, l am upset about Mar.
jorie; l am very upset about the girl.
I thought over what was best to be
done, and I determined that I would
take the bull by the horns, and come
and talk things yer with you. That
is right, isn't it,"
There was a little anxiety in the
good lady's voice, for, however much
she desired Sir William for a sonrin-
law and liked him personally, she was
considerably afraid of him in certain
Of his moods.
"My dear Lady Poole" he replied,
with one of his rare and charming
smiles, there Is no one whom I
would rather see than you. And I'm
sure you know that. Tell me all about
it."
His tone was gentle and confiden-
tial, and Lady Poole's face frightened
at once.
Dear William!" she said. well,
I've come to you to talk about Mar
jorie. Our interests are absolutely
Identical in regard to her. You can't
want to marry my daughter more than
I want to see my daughter married to
you. Lately things have been going
we'll between you both. l saw that at
once; nothing escapes me where Mar
jorie is concerned. She was quite for
getting her foolish fancy for that
wretched young Rathbone, owing to
his perfectly ~providential disappear
ance or death, or whatever it was.
Then I made sure that everything had
come right at Lord Malvin's party,
and especially when I heard that you
were going to call next day. l went
OUT thought it better-and when I
came home my maid told me that
Marjorie had not seen you after all;
and since then I've kept an eye on all
that was going on, and I'm very seri.
ously disturbed. Anything l say
seems to have no effect. Marjorie
will hardly let me mention your name
to her. l cannot understand it at all.
Her manner is changed. too; she
seems expecting something or some
me-. My firm conviction Is that she
has another fit Of pining for young
Rathbone. l told her as much one
evening; in fact, I'm afraid that I
rather lost my temper. Gerald Rath-
bone is most certainly dead l told
her. 4 was as kind and sympathetic
as l could be- I said, when Mr.. Rath-
bone first disappeared. l very much
disapproved of him, but l recognized
you had a certain right to choose your
w future companion, within limits.
But now you're simply making your
self and me miserable and ridiculous,
and you're treating one Of the best
hearted and distinguished men In
England in a way which is simply
abominable. It's heartless, it's cruel,
and you will end by disgusting society
altogether, and we shall have to go
and live among the retired officers at
Bruges, or some place like that"
Lady Poole paused for breath. She
had spoken with extreme %volubility
and earnestness, and there were tears
in her voice. It is a mistake to as
sumo that because people are worldly
they are necessarily heartless, too.
Lady Poole really loved her daughter,
but she did earnestly desire to see
her married to this wealthy and
famous man, who seemed to have no
other desire.
Sir William broke in upon the
pause. "All you tell me, dear Lady
Poole" he said, us very chilling and
. depressing to my dearest hope. But
difficulties were made to be overcome.
weren't they? And to the strong man
there are no f~ears-only shadows.
But what answer did Marjorie make
when you said all this to her"