The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1907-12-05
CHAPTER XIV.

Spring had returned, primroses and
yiolets were being sold at the street
corners, Parliament was assembled
and London had reawakened from its
wintry Information to new life and
Hgor. The Dovedales were at their
KensingtOn mansion The duchess had
sent forth her cards for alternate
Thursday evenings of a quasi-literary
and scientific character. Lady Mabel
was polishing her poems with serious
thoughts for publication, but with
strictest secrecy. No one but her par
ents and Roderick yawdrey had been
told of these poetic flights. The book
would be given to the world under a
nom de plume Lady Mabel was not
so much Philistine as to suppose that
writing poetry could be a disgrace to
a dukes daughter; but she felt that
the house of Ashbourne would be SER
iously compromised were the critics
to find her guilty of writing doggerel;
and critics are apt to deal harshly
with the titled muse.
So, for want of any better, Lady
Mabel was constrained to read her
verses to her future husband; just as
Moliere read his plays to his house
keeper. for want of any other nearer.
the two Bejarts, aunt and niece, having
naturally plays enough and to spare in
the theatre
Now, in this crucial hour of her poetic
career, Mabel Ashbourne wanted some
thing more than a patient listener.
She wanted a critic with a fine ear
for rhythm and euphony. To this nice
task she invited her betrothed some
.times on a sunny April afternoon,
when luncheon was over, and the low
ers were free to repair 10 Lady Ma
bells own particular den-an airy room
on an upper floor. with quaint old
Queen Anne easements opening upon
a balcony crammed with flowers, and
overlooking the outrageous avenues
of Kensingron Gardens. with a glimpse
OF the old red palace in the distance
Rorie did his best to be useful, and
applied himself to his duty with per-
feet heartiness and good temper; but
luncheon and the depressing London
atmosphere made him sleepy, and he
yawns and to keep his eyes open,
while Lady Mabel was deep in the en-
tanglement of lines which scared to
the seventh heaven OF metaphysics.
Unhappy Rorie knew hardly anything
about metaphysics. He had never
read Victor Cousin, or any of the great
German lights and a feeling of dispair
took possession If him when his sweet
hearts poetry degenerated into diluted
Hagelism, or rose to a feeble imita-
ton of Browning's obscurest verse.
Either must be Intensely stupid or
this must be rather difficult to under
stand" he thought, heIplessly, when
Mabel had favored him with the pc
rusal of the first act of poetic doulogue.
in which the hero. kind of milk and
water Faustus, held converse, and ar
gued upon the deeper questions of life
and faith, with very mild Mephisto.
1t was about this time that Lord
Mallow, Who was working with all his
might for tire regeneration of his coun-
try, made q great hit in the house by
his speech on the Irish land question.
He had been doing wonderful things In
Dublin for the winter, holding forth
to patriotic assemblies In the Round
Room of the Rotunda, holding declar-
ing himself champion of the Home
Rulers cause. demanding Repeal and
nothing but Repeal. He was one of
the few Repealers who had a stake In
the country, and who was likely to
lose by the disruption of social order
If foolish, he was at least disinter
ested, and had the courage of his OPT
ions.
In the House of Commons Lord NAL
low was not ashamed to repeat the
arguments he had used I'm the Round
Room. He had his party here, as
well as on the other side of the Irish
Channel, and his party applauded him.
He came to Lady Mabel naturally in
his triumphs, and he came to her in
his disappointments. She was pleased
and f1attered by his faith in her wis
dom, and was always ready to lend
gracious ear. She, whose soul was
full of ambition, was deeply interested
in the career of an ambitious youn
mana mar who had every cause