Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1909-06-22
head, and frightened by the contrast of
a black aigrette.


a black aigrette.
Her low-cut black bodice showed the
white curves of her neck, encircled by a
string of pearls. The soft simmer of
the gray velvet cloak, which hung open
from her shoulders, acted as a frame to
the splendid coloring of face and hair
Il was right" he said lightly. ''As
soon as l saw that thing in Bond street
window, knew that it would make you
look like a Venetian Dogaressa.'
But surely Dogaressas must have been
like Lady Mayoresses, fair, fat and for
ty,'" she TESTED, though her smile told
that she liked the words.
This is rather different from our
Christmas dinner" Stewart said, cheer
fully, as they took their seat at a small
table in the dining-room, that, with its
red-shaded lights and groups of we'll
dressed people, had so festive an air to
those fresh from the dark discomfort of
winter seas.
They were at no lack for the casual
careless talk of those who have been
thrown together in the intimacy of daily
life.
"Bye-the-bye," he said, as they loitered
over their coffee, you never told me
how you had disposed of your victim.
poor Hudson. Where did you part from
himP
AT Euston," she laughed. HE was
rather woe-begone.'
''The poor boy was dreadfully struck"
and his eyes, as they rested on her, seem
ed to add that it was natural enough.
"And he was shaken off without any ad-
dress, or such?" he asked, lighting his
cigarette
'Oh, l told him that l was going to
Paris at once, and would write from
there, or something of that kind. hard
ly remember what" she answered, care
lessly, beginning to pull on her long,
pearl-colored gloves.
"A conspirator requires a good mem
DRY. You'll need to remember every
word you say to Mrs. Herbert" he said,
warningly.
She shivered. at gives me a chill to
hear her name You have never de-
scribed her to me, though"
He thought for moment. There is
nothing very definite about her to de-
scribe She is one of those bleached look
ing women, with high, bony nose, and
pale eyes"
But what style is she? 'Grande
dame or country squiress? Well-dressed
or dowdy? One can always stand better
to ones guns with dowdy woman"
She's certainly not an outdoor per
son, though she's great on local influ-
ences, and societies and such-her piety
is her strongest point, l think. / sup
pose she is well-dressed in a way, though
there is nothing smart about her.
should say that the prevailing aspect was
skimpiness There is always a look as
though something were too narrow, or
too short, or too something"
How graphicp she commented. Then
pursuing her inquiries, do you suppose
that she will pretend to be friendly at
firstp
Goodness knows! You may be sure
that whatever she does it will be with
one object of keeping her influence over
my father, and preventing me from ac-
quiring any. Never forget that"
II shall not forget it," she said, and
the confident smile of warfare lit her
face.
He watched her curiously.
ut will be a Homeric combat, if it
ever comes to an open battle between you
two. But we must be going"
The play that they watched that even
ing had no tragic figure of the woman
with a past. dropping her arms and star
ing out into vacancy. Stewart had taken
good care of that. 1t was one of those
hippant comedies of society life, acted by
ladies and gentlemen in the smartest
of modern attire.
The wit, the fashions. the audience
were all q welcome amusement, and it
was with the sensations that mark the
end of successful evening that they re-
turned to the hotel
All the same Mathilde felt her spirits
flag as they went towards the lit, for the
old nervousness was returning With the
prospect of a tete-a-tete in that little sit
ting room upstairs. She had rejected the
proposal of supper, and they were wait
ing amongst a little group of returned
theater-goers like themselves, for the de-
scent of the lift. 1t did not need the
murmur from Stewart, How tired you
look - TO make Mathilde aware that she
had grown pale and chill.
Il shall not come upstairs yet" Stew
art said. 81 must have a smoke before
turn in. | dare say that you would like
to breakfast in your own room in the
morning Perhaps you will be ready to
see me about ten. Goodnight" for the
lift was there, and people were already
crowdng into it.
All Mathilde's wanness was lost in a
lovely flush of color, brought by a sense
of relief
Goodnight :" she responded with a
smile that was almost shy. but Stewart 5
gravity was somewhat grim.
He had easily read the meaning of
both pallor and flush. and perhaps he did
not appreciate the implied doubt in his
good faith.
There are mild, sunshiny mornings even
| in a London winter. Such a one came on
the tolcwing day, and Mathilde dressed
herself early to profit by it. What wom-
an. freshly landed in England. and with
money in her purse. could resist the temp
tation of a mornings London shopping? ?
She had been up early, having much to
attend to this morning. First there had
| been letter TO her eldest brother tell
| ing him in a somewhat curt fashion that
| on the voyage over, she had met and be-
come engaged TO Mr.. James Stewart.
heir to Sir James Stewart. OF Orwell,
and had yesterday been married to him.
| By special license. at the Church of Holy
| Trinity. Sloane street.
This bare statement of facts being
completed. she added few conventional
messages of family amiability. and giving
her address, signed herself by her new
name. "Mathilde Stewart" She paused
q moment 10 consider the effect.
There is something homogeneous in
/ IL" she murmured to herself. There is
a great gulf somehow between the Ma
| thilde' and the Stewart Which viii get
| the upper hand-the old Mathilde or the
/ new Stewart"
But she had little time for such medita-
| ton, for shortly the applicants for the
/ maids place appeared
There were three or four-Swiss.
! French and English. and all apparently
/ S,,S-s Me enos,sA