The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1907-11-19
Ole Self Bidden Guest.
By Emeric IuImo-Beaman.

huu, Huu lot some years occupied tndL
position in society to which her birth,
her wealth, her accomplishments, and,
last but not least, her undoubted
beauty entitled her. At Lady Feath-
erstone's house--at her little social
assemblies, her soirees, her occasional
dinner parties--one might be sure of
meeting only those people upon whom
the cachet of unquescioned breeding
had been set.
A woman herself of unerring taste
OF the most delicate ethical discrimin-
alton, and of fastidious fancy, she
was never able to tolerate in, others
the least detection from her own high
standard of criticism and culture She
was clever enough to admire clever
people, yet not stupid enough to pass
for being clever herself: she was a.
widow with two young daughters, n
large income. and, as it seemed, a con-
siderable capacity for enjoying It; and
people said-those people who always
say things-that the fact of this
large income ceasing on her remarriage
explained the other fact of Lady
Featherstone remaining n widow To
give up several thousand a year, an
assured position in society, and her
liberty would be much to expect Of Il
woman In return for the questionable
advantage of seco I'D husband SO
people said. They knew that Lady
Featherstone had made brilliant
marriage at an early age that she was
enviable becuse she was rich, and hap
by because she was enviable But.
Il 4, L.. L..
not always happy; and on a particular
afternoon in January she sat alone In
her drawing room, with a look of
singular sadness upon her beautiful
face; her chin rested ca her hand, her
gray. eyes were bent wistfully on the
fire. and now and again she sighed
softly to herself, as though a mood of
memories were on her.
She sat alone. Perhaps this con
scfousness-thisc consciousness that she
was "alone'-had something to do
with the stirring of those secret emo
lions which retrospect of the past
will often evoke; perhaps It was this
retrospect itself that made the CON
seriousness more acute; but. at least.
the burden of solitude seemed to weigh
HCNfAg OAl iitl SOul. I1tI Gnllu1G0
were too young TO be companions to
her-too young to fill quite that void
In the heart of a woman of thirty-five.
which looks for some other and fuller
source of repletion; her friends-but
womans friends. what are they?
Yet 1t was not usual for ady Feath-
erstone to indulge Il morbid train of
fancies, and in this very evening. the
evening of one of her darge dinner
parties, it seemed curious that her
thoughts should have carried her into
SO melancholy groove, that the faint
far off chord of early memories should
have been suddenly struck by the
sound of Il French name-the name of
stranger, the name of enc of her
guests, the Count dc Serillac, whom
the French Ambassador was bringing
with him to her dinner party
Except that he was distinguished
diplomatist, Lady Featherstone knew
nothing of NJ. de Seri!lac and cared
less; but that he was a FTenchman
awakened in her heart the sudden
memory of another. compltriot-a
FTenchman, poor and obscure. but Of
noble bearing and an exquisite man
ner tender and gallant, handsome and
debonair, who Cnce had loved her
once, fifteen years ago, when she was
twenty, and he had been her drawing
master! He had loved her, this
French artist with the earnest face and
the indispensable air of nobility so
oddly at variance with the nature of
his calling-he had loved her. this
craving master; and yet what in an
other similarly situated would have
seemed the acme of arrogance I'm him
seemed but the assertion of natural
prerOgative, carrying with IL nothing
BIZARRE nothing presumptuous. nothing
Inappropriate. He had loved her. ard
she had loved him: so there was but
one thing TO do and the drawing mas
ter did the went from her preseace
forever, for he was a gentleman. Only
this he had said on parting:
Mademoiselle. / go, but / leave my
heart herewith you Treat IL as
you will, Mademoiselle. keep # or cast
1t away, think of me or forget me hut
remember that. If ever the day comes
when may return to you. shall re-
turn; and then. Mademoiselle-th
II 1t Is In your power to bestow what
u may be in my power to ask, shall
demand Of you the happiness which
onlSsyou can give me 1--we now
Tor that day-for that day alonel"
And, with tears I'm her eyes. she had
pleaded, girl like. that he should not
leave her, and for reply. he had taken
her hand very tenderly and pressed
1t to his lips.
'Mademoisolle," ne had murmured.
Il must! FAREWELL"
NJ. Gressioner never returned and
-FOUR years afterward Miss Maxwell
married Lord Featherstone. a man of
considerable social attainments and
some political influence who had fall
en- desperately I'm love with the beauti-
ful girl whom he had met at a country
house.
So. In course Of time. Gressonier was
forgotten, and the one romantic cpl
sode Of Lady Featherstones life lay
buried deep down i'm the dim recesses
OF woman's memory
Her revorie was suddenly inter.
rupted by ring at the front door bell.
lady Featherstone started. for che