The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1908-05-14
CHAPTER l.


gether once again. says Mrs. Clarence
with a satisfied sigh, throwing her pretty
head little backwards and sideways
her charming insincere face smiling out
of it's aureole of faxen hair In town
this delicate yellow hair of hers has ere
ated a small sensation for more years
than she now cares to be reminded or,
though in reality she is only thirty. For
the rest she has little to complain OF In
her life; her means being ample, her
charms beyond reproach, and her very
uncongenial husband at this moment at
the Antipodes.
In this small country place-an in
significant spot in the south of Ireland
she is regarded by the villagers in the
little town below with feelings that sway
between awe and delight.
"Tis a vision she is" said Mr.. Twoo-
mey the opu,ent owner of the small hotel
in Carrigmahon, when Mrs Clarence
had swept through the town in her cous-
in's-old Sir Lucien Adare' carriage.
Sir Lucien, who as a rule detests this
Irish home of his, took a freak into his
head the last month. and after eight
years absence from it, decided on gather
ing together such of his kinsfolk as &C
companied him on his last visit, and
spending a month or two in the pleasant
wilds of Carrigmahon.
Carrig Castle-The Castle as il is call
ed ''for short by the peasantry-is suf-
fciently charming a home to tempt most
people, had they been its possessors, to
visit it at least once year. But not its
delights have brought Sir Lucien to it
in this sunny mid-August. Old associa-
tons have given him distaste for Car
rig that amounts to positive aversion, and
but for several important reasons it is
quite certain that he would not have
come here ar all. A defaulting agent for
one. A battery Of letters from his country
that Bryan Deane was home again and
staying at the old mill. for a third. and
strongest of all. He had always believed
that fellow knew something of the miss
ing jewels,
"Yes. Isn't it," says a very pretty
girl, answering Mrs. Clarence's languid
remark. There is very little languor
about Mary Adare. or May, as she is gen.
orally called. Hillary and 1 were de-
lighted to come, weren't we, Hilary"
young man sitting in a lounging chair
near ore Of the open windows, throueh
which the moonlight is streaming so WV
idly as to almost put the many shaded
lamps out of countenance.
Intensely" returns Captain Adare
politely. 1t is possible that Hilary.
Mary's brother and Sir Lucien's heir,
scarcely heard his sisters question, his
mind being at the moment many
miles away-in conservatory at
that last dance he went TO, before
leaving town, before being dragged down
here" as he termed it. Amongst the
flowers on that memorable rening he had
told himself that the girl whose fan he
was then caressing was the prettiest crea-
ture in the world. A week after he still
thought so; six weeks later he is sitting
here trying to think so still, and failing
little. Six weeks is a long time-when
one is only twenty-eight.
How many years since last we were
here?" asks someone from the back
ground, someone dangling gracefully over
the sill of the window, and tw1nging
= gaily, with a remorseIess disregard for
time and tune, on a banjo.
What a horrid question ~ says Mrs
Clarence, with delicate ruffling of he,
fair brows. 1T must be Owen'sr'
She peers round, softly parting with
her fan the two men next to her to make
them stand aside until she can see the
place where her brother, the Hon. Owen
McGrath, sits revealed.
ooh, do stop that dreadful noise -
cries May. covering her little she'll pink
ears with her hands,
'You know you love it." says Mr.. Nc
Grath unmoved. He turns his head 81
far inwards that one can see that he il
fat, fair and twenty-four or so. His fac,
is innocent of hair. and so, very nearly
is his head. His sister and his father
Lord Kilfern, make much of him now
and then, and so do a good many fal
better people. "Come here, and I'll sins
to you! You won't? You shall =
He has seized her frock and pulled hel
down beside him. There is a cousinshiI
between them, as indeed there is between
everyone now staying in Sir Lucien'.
house.
"Owen, don't be stupid May give.
him a vigorous little push, but Mr.. Nc
Grath, with his arm so far thrust through
hers as to enable him to get a purchase
on the banjo, is already uplifting his ter
rible voice to the moonlit skies.
young man had come rather quickl,
up to the window when Miss Adare hat
been brought so swiftly to a seat beside
the interpreter of the banjo.
'Oh, is that you, Gilbert?' exclaim
she. "Yes, help me up. / must say
Owen" turning wrathfully to her lat
companion, If you think that musi
Wont you wait for the next verse
Do" says Mr. McGrath. Its teemin.
with interest 1t is a proposal-from yo,
to me-you won't wait? How blind PEG
pie are to their own interests nowadays
/ might-impossble as it sounds-actu
ally have said Yes"
No one is listening to him. no one eve
does as a rIle-which says much for TIN
wisdom of Lis acquaintance and friends
But If the present company think t.
disconcert him by this disregard of hi
remarks. they are indeed mistaken HI
rises like the Phoenix from its ashes Il
even fresher life, and the knowledge tina
Gilbert Grey is now at the other side o
the room, getting as near 10 ah ope'
quarrel with May as he dares- lndee'
so far does the fight go on that now May
leaving Gilbert Grey, and treading Tn
floor as she comes, with the dainty al
of Titania insulted, drops into sea
next Eustace Everard, who as one ha
come to know, is always very close Il
Mrs Clarence.
He Is a man of about forty, with blu
eyes and q pensive expression He give
immensely to charities, especially to or
manages, and has about the worst repu
E4;~- = Eprone His peEaiye expression