The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1909-01-06

fracas and he pulled me from my
already black-faced prey.
l got to my feet, shaking like
a leaf, and hardly conscious where
| was. My masters door was
shut and Marion stood against it,
her two great eyes burning out
of her sheet-white face. She, too,
was trembling violently.
What is all this?" demanded
Sir Charles, stirring the insensible
Sefton Dagmar with his foot.
Brown is not to blame" NUT
tered the girl. "Sir William or
dered him to make Dagmar leave
the house. He-he had forced his
way into the sickroom!" !
Sir Charles remarked indiffer-
emily enough. Garry the black
guard downstairs, Brown. Now,
Marion, by your leave I'll see my
patient" Il
They disappeared, and I, stoop-
ing, lifted young Dagmar in my
arms and carried him beloK.
When he recovered he gave mel a
look of murderous malignity. Ten
minutes later he departed from
the house.
During the next few days the
world dealt kindly with our
household. Sir Williams strength
cry gradually improved; Marion
relaxed a little of her habitual
sadness, and as for me, 1 had nev-
er been SO happy in my life.
spent my time between the sick
room and the pantry, relieving
Marion of every trouble that l
could, and waiting on her with the
noiseless patience of a shadow.
In this was wise, without other
intention than to please her. My
silence began to appeal to her
imagination even more than my
ceaseless studied courtesies. And
in this behalf 1 would remark my
faith that no woman lives, howso
preoccupied with grief or other
interests, who can long remain
impervious to persistently consid-
crate devotion. I often caught
her watching me with grave, in
curing eyes. On such occasions
it was l, not she, who exhibited
confusion. I could not act to her.
Sometimes feeling her power, II
grew quite terrified. Did She
study me? I wondered, and what
was her opinion. l was soon to
know.
One evening Sir William drop
ped into a deep slumber far SOON
er than his wont. The room adj
joining his had converted from
a dressing chamber into boudiorI
for Marion's convenience. Therel
it was I found her, replying to the
summons of her bell.
She pointed to a chair. "Willl
you not talk to me a while?" shel
asked. 81 feel lonely tonight"
l felt my face burn as 1 bowed
and sat down-upon her bidding.
could hardly credit my good for
tune, and l lacked breath to reply. |
you have been very good to
me-" she murmured. "Why wasl
It, Brown"
Still I could not reply. 1 dared
not even look at her.
81 have been thinking, Brown,
hat you were not born SER
7ant," she said quietly. "Will you'll
ell me If l guessed aright?"
mo prescience warned me oil
/ snare. Had any other woman
asked me such a question should
lave smiled and lied. But Marion
and I answered from
ny heart.
my father was a gentleman BY
firth, madam"
"Ah!" she sighed. "He metI!
With some unhappiness, no
loubt?"
"He lies in pauper's grave"
and you are educated, for III
ave marked your speech?"
"My father did his best for me,
She sighed again, and for al
ime was silent, but at length she l.
xed her eyes upon my face andls
aid: you have foreign 'air.
monsieur. Is 1t possible that your|I
ather was my countryman?"
HE had not that honor, made-iI
loise1le."
She gave little frown. "AndlI
ct your name Hume-I think you L
aid It might be French?" II
mo, mademoiselle; but my II
lother was q Parisienne.
She nodded her head, and, half II
losing her eyes, she began In a II
ow voice of melting sweetness to II
ium to the tune of a famous little II
OF a sudden she stopped, and II
Gaming forward. gave me q look II
fhich seemed to reveal a 1o,rsr . II