The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1909-01-13

things had not always gone we'll with
her. In her youth she had been mar
ried almost by force to a man unlike
herself in every way-an uncultured,
almost %uncivilized, rich boor of the
n~eighborhood, the descendant of a
navy who had become a millionaire,
and who inherited all the Characters
tics of his race along with their
money, although he had never known
anything of navvydom, but had been
born a Scotch country gentleman with
a great estate.
1t is supposed her father and moth
er, Lord and Lady Lindons, believed
it to be for her real good when they
placed poor Car, fainting with fright
and horror, in the arms of Mr.. Tho
mas Torrance, a man whose manners
made themselves vince, though they
were forced into no such constant
contact with him, for they were far
from being wicked parents or bad
people in any way. But providence
had been good to her, and while she
was still young her husband had died.
If he did not justify Lord Lindons'
expectations in his life, he did in his
death. For he left everything in his
wife's hands; not only had she the
excellent jointure which her settle
ments secured her-a jointure with
out any mean and petty clause as to
marrying again, but everything was
left in her hands-the control of the
property during little Toms minority,
and almost every advantage which a
aueen-mother could have. Tom was
a little fellow of six, so that a long
period of supremacy was in Carry's
hands, and the rough fellow, whom
she had almost hated, from whom her
very soul had shrunk with a loathing
indescribable. had done her the full
est justice.
And then, after a very short inter-
val, she had married again; she had
married the lover Of old days who had
been dropped, who had been ignored
when Lord Lindons came to his title
and the prospects of the family had
IlOW muCn Adoy SoASAAaS
knew or did not know Of the devel-
opments through which Mr.. Beaufort
had passed in the meantime no one
ever discovered. She found him
much as he had been when her family
had dropped him, only not so young.
A mar who had made no way, a man
without %reproach, yet without sue
cess. who had kept stationary all the
time, and was still a man of promise
when his contemporaries had attained
all that they were likely to attain.
Beaufort was poor, but Lady Car was
now rich. There was not the least
reason why they should not marry
unless he had been fantastic and re-
fused to do so on account Of her SUI
perior wealth. But he had no such
idiotic idea. So that Lady Car was
considered by most people, especially
those who had a turn for the senti-
mental, as a very lucky woman.
She was amazingly, passionately
happy in her second marriage-at
first. If she saw any drawbacks, she
closed her eyes to them as passion
ately determined to admit nothing
that went against her bliss-but per-
haps she did not see anything. And,
after all, there was not much to see.
MI. Beaufort was a gentleman. He
was a man of great cultivation Of
mind; an excellent scholar, under
standing every literary allusion that
could be made, never at a loss for a
happy phrase or quotation, quite an
exceptional man in the way of cul-
ture and accomplishment. He was
extremely good looking, his manners
were admirable, his character with
out reproach. Nothing seemed want
ing in him that a woman could de-
sire. And, Notwithstanding the u2-
comfortable episode of her first mar
riage, and the two black browed chill
.dren, who had not a feature of their
mothers, he was Lady Cars only
love, and, so far as anybody knows.
or as al eve known, she was his.
BY how many devious ways a pair
may be led who are destined to meet
at last! He in various wanderings
the world; she, in the blank of
her dreadful life, through all her
martyrdoms, had all the time been
tending to this. And now they were
happy at last.
''No," she said, Edward; don't let
us settle down; I can't; a house
would not contain me. I want the
grand air, as the French say. I
should be making horrible COMPARE
sons, I should be thinking''-she
stopped with a shiver-"of the past.
Let us go abroad. I have not been
abroad since we parted; it will look
like taking up the story where it
dropped"
Beaufort gave a half conscious
glance toward the spot outside where
the back browed children were play
ing. He felt. perhaps, that it would
not be so easy to take up the story
where it had dropped; but he assent
ed, with quiet gentleness soothing
her. Il am always fond of wan
derins. I have done little else all
NY life-and with you'll"
"Yes, with you!" she repeated.
She was accustomed to the children
and did not think of the anachron-
ism Of their presence at the moment
of taking up the story. you shall
take me to all the new places where
you have been alone, and Well go to
fho >lI n1ooac Uhnrn u,n ,,ar@ that