Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1908-04-17
CHAPTER VII.

Leila Leigh was French governess ~
st. Martha's College. She had plenty Of
work from dawn till dusk in these short
November days. She had classes before
breakfast, classes after breakfast, hall q
dozen music pupils she gave lessons IN
water colors, she taught embroidery, she
toiled necessarily hut, after the 9 o'clock
tea, her time was her own. Then she
might write letters, or read novels, or sew
for herself, or practice on the piano or
the harp. On both instruments Lionefs
beautiful sister was e proficient.
On the evening when the attempt at an
elopement from the sacred precincts OF st.
Martha's was frustrated by the opportune
arrival of Messrs. Cummington and How
Ter, Leila was not writing letters nor
reading fiction, nor trimming hats. She
sat idly enough before . bright fire, which
Elowed on the hearth in her small apart
mentr neat little room, where the plain
ness Of the school furniture was clothed
and adorned by, the fine taste and delicate
handiwork Of the poor little teacher.
BY 10 o'clock everybody in st. Mar
tha,s was in bed and all the lights were
out. II was z o'clock when Leila sat be
fore her cory FIRE. Her cheeks were flush
ed, her eyes shone, her heart beat fast.
IN her hand was a note received that day.
1t was not signed, but there was a mono
gram at the top, and a coronet. The note
came from Beryl Court. The writer of
the note was Arthur Calthorpe, heir to
the Earldom Of Beryl. Tears fell upon
that little note. Leila read It, folded it
up, read 1t again, then sat looking into
the are. All at once came a little. sudden
rap at the door.
.Come in,,' said Leila and there ran
In ! little, white woman about twenty
seven, with heavy plaits Of brown hair,
and wearing a green dress.
eOh, Miss Gregson I" said Leila, get
ting up and Offering the little lady a chair.
Il am sorry, but / had forgotten all
about II"
Nevertheless, dear. You must tell me
this story /; I am sure there ID q great deal
in it. / am writing q novel, and I feel
convinced there are the elements Of a plot
In the strange history of your youth and
your handsome brother"
Miss Oregon took out : pocketbook
and pencil, prepared to make notes on
what Leila Leigh had to relate. Leila
looked down at the little note folded in
her hand, then once more 1t the fire.
Then she bfgan her tale
.Mamma died the day l was born, and
her loss saddened all my fathers life,
wrapped him in a gloom from which he
never emerged for q single day. Mamma
died in Normandy, in q little village call
ed ST. Pierre des Montagnes. | was put
out to nurse with a family of good Nor
man peasants, and papa went away with
my brother Lionel. When I was seven
years old. papa came back to st. Pierre
Ides Montagnes with Lionel. After awhile
] went home to Chateau Moreauville, a
gloomy old mansion four miles out of
ST. Pierre.
MY father took possession Of Chateau
Moreauville-that is tossay. he rented it
from the proprietor, who was absent in
Italy. Papa was tired of wandering
around the world. He was u writer of
scientific and philosophical subjects, and
he earned a few hundreds yearly. Some
Of this money he saved, but be was very
aDOur the education of his chill
dren, and very ambitious that Lionel
should shine in some department of sci
ence or literature. He was taken with an
illness, q slow fever. not violent. but lin
gering. prostrating. BY din of care and
watchfulness, he began to recover. In
the midst of October, just when the for
est was golden. and the scarlet gerani-
inns, which ran wild IN the incultured
gardens. were 4bIoom and ablaze, papa
down into THE drawing room. We
had 1 large IRE, and we crowded about il
Lionel, papa and myself. How pale
and raunt vas that dear face which we
loved 30 tenderiy, and vet which always
srArned ~ me- awful, with the Of