Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1909-10-05

tangled on the pillow, her arms flung
above her head, the long lashes max
ing black semi circles on her colorless
cheek. A burning, raging devil SEEM
ed tugging at Hilda Burrs heart as she
looked down on her in her ravishinS
beauty-the devil of jealous envy and
hate.
HE scorns and mocks me" she NUT
tered, but he admires her-he Will
love her. She is young-1 am old.
She is handsome-I ugly. Did dare,
I would throttle her as she lies"
She did not dare. Therefore she set
her lamp peacefully down on the
dressing table and, guided by previous
instructions from Rose, opened draw
er therein and drew forth, wrapped In
yellow paper,a box Of flesh colored
paint, a vial or liquid and a little
brush with an ivory handle. Hilda
Burr's eyes saone like a cats in the
dark. She snatched the stopper from
the vial, saturated a corner of her
handkerchief and, approaching the bed,
bent over and softly passed the wet
linen across the throat Of the sleeper.
Then she drew back and looked at
what Paulette called her mark Of Cain,
revealed crimson and bright from the
unconscious girls chin to her little
ear nestled like q pearl in clusters Of
yellow hair.
That cruel brand! Never had 1t
looked so cruel, so vivid as at this mo-
ment! Hilda Burr started back step,
then put out her hand and drew 1t
lightly the whole length Of the san
guine line.
"Hideous" she thought, quite
enough to spoil the beauty Of Venus!
How artfully the cunning jade con-
ceals It! Shall I ever look at her
again without longing to fly at this
throat and tear its disguise away
show her to Trent's eyes as she really
is?"
And Paulette lay in her deep, death
like sleep and never stirred. Directly
Hilda turned back to the table, caught
up the paint and brush and covered
the birth-mark as skillfully as its own
er could have done. She then began
to wrap the several articles in the yell
low paper, and while doing this a few
words printed thereon in capitals sud-
denly arrested her keen eyes. She held
it to the lamp. The paper was an old
play-bill fthe Boston Museum, dis
colored with age, and announcing a
comedy in which the leading character
was to be sustained by the universal
favorite, Little Paulette."
Hilda Burr turned it over in her
hand. She looked, she read, she star
ed. Had she been man she would
have whistled. Who was little Pau
lette? 1t was by no means a common
name. She stood with the old bill In
her hand and looked at the beautiful
sleeper there on the white bed.
"Aha!" came like a hiss through her
set teeth Carefully back into the
drawer went the box, the brush and
the vial, but the bill Hilda retained,
and dropping the fringed covering OF
the dressing table, she took up her
light, cast a last glance at Paulette and
noiselessly left the chamber.
She had barely reached the passage,
her hand was still on the knob of the
door-the hand, too, that held the pre-
cious bill-when a figure rose like
gourd out Of the darkness before her
the figure Of man in list slippers and
a flowered dressing -gown-in fact, Mr..
George Trent.
A cry leaped to Hilda's lips. She
would have dropped the light had he
not caught it from her hold.
my dear Hilda," said Trent, in
guarded voice, can l believe my eyes?
You interviewing Miss Rale at this
hour of the night? How strange-how
deucedly strange!"
"Hush!" implored Hilda, in very
visible alarm-"hush! she is asleep.
had an errand in her room-nothing
more. Do you spend your nights
prowling about the house watching
other people?"
MY dear Hilda, without doubt
there are persons here who need
watching. May l beg to ask what this
is?" and before she was aware, he had
snatched the play-bill from her hand
His eyes went over it like lightning
The next instant he thrust it coolly in
to his own pocket.
Hasten" he cried, ito your own
room. You look like a clear case, OF
sleep walking in this garb-your face
too, Is altogether wild. The general OF
some of his servants might see you
here and make remarks-wonder, may
hap, at the lateness of your visit to
Miss Rale's chamber"
George Trent, give me back that
play-bill." hissed Hilda. ashy with
rage.
| "A play-bill, was it?" quoth Mr.