The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1910-08-31
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she couldn't find it in her heart to
give up me-"
Lise sighed.
"You ask too much Of any woman"
said she. There are always a hum
dred reasons for and against every
thing. I am sure this Is much too
complex an age, in spite of what Nigel
says about the simple life, to allow
a girl to make an important decision
which might influence her whole life's
happiness, for an old-fashioned, hum
drum reason like that" T..
"You aren't like that" said he,
watching with his clear gray eyes the
| changing expression of her animated
face, and the quick, expressive ges-
lures of her little brown hands.
Lise raised her dark eyebrows with
a curious little smile. =
MOI" she said. my dear boy, I
am more complex than anything you
ever dreamt of or imagined. I never
did anything from a simple honest
motive in all my life"
81 sometimes think" said Michael
earnestly, that you aren't very
happy. It doesn't seem quite fair.
It is too bad that you, who are SO
| sympathetic, should be so much alone
in your own life. I never. met any
one before who understood me as you
do. Even Audrey does not quite IN
derstand the deeper side Of my char
acter. Until I met you-oh, II l
could only make some return to you
for your perfect sympathy. I am
afraid Standring isn't worthy OF you"
Lise, who had been leaning back
with a strange little smile lowering
over her lips, sat up suddenly here,
with amazed eyes. But the mad
youth rushed on to hts destruction.
IT don't think your husband can
understand you as I can" said he
boldly. -,
Lise broke into a sudden sharp lit
tie laugh.
my dear boy" she said, "you
mustn't make remarks about my nus
band if you wish me to remain your
friend. There Is no question about
the perfect understanding between
lack and me. We adore each other.
In every single instance that can
remember since we were married, we
have thought as one"
CHAPTER III.
"cnarming, isn't she?" MISS Cot
ton beamed at them over the big pale
blue bow of chiffon at her throat.
Her large, sheep-like face shone with
its usual expression of cheerful sad
ness. IT always think it such a pity"
she said gently, that Mrs. Standring
does not live happily with her hus-
band. My housemaid, who is a cousin
of her cook, tells me that they have
words constantly. Her temper Is
most passio nate, and he Is a remark
ably amiable, man. But, then, she Is
so elegant. I always think Mrs. Jack
most elegant. It's a pity that young
men fall in love with her $3.50 In
cessantly, though, isn't It? Beauty Is
always such a snare" &c.,. "
young men always have, fallen In
love with lovely faces"-Tormentilla
was sitting by the open window, look
ing at the dark woods beyond the
park, and she burst in here with a
bitterness straight from her heart
land always will"
"Ah, yes!" Miss Cotton sighed and
smoothed her chiffon. And Time is
cruel to youthful loneliness. I always
think Time is so cruel, don't you?
But it's extremely trying for her hus-
band, and I am sure one Of her own
| great troubles, though I sometimes
think that If she wasn't quite SO ca
ressing in her name to the other
sex, it would be wiser. My dear boy
for instance. I always found 1t so
dangerous to call a young man my
dear boy haven't you?"
"I have never tried It," replied
GREENE coldly.
"Of course, If he is really a boy"
the visitor pursued, "he merely re-
| CARDS it as an insult. But when a
little older? And young men are so
easily Influenced, and they are so sure
to suffer for it. Inevitable, isn't it?"
II expect it does them a lot OF
good"
Tormentilla was getting more in
terested in the conversation than
Miss Green liked.
Eyes, that's what she thinks. She
regards her influence as Christening
and a necessary part of a young mans
education, but her husband naturally
doesn't see it in the same light. OF
course he knows his wife is devoted
to him, there's no doubt about that,
, but he doesn't like to see any one
unhappy-such a sweet trait in him,
I've frequently thought. The candle
and the moth is what he calls the
kind of situation which is constantly
arising"
"Tormentilla," said Miss Green
persuasively, i've left the darkest
| shaGe of the mauve i1oselle upstairs
in my bedroom. Might I trouble you,
my dear? Your legs are younger
than mine"
Yes, GREENE, but it's under your
chair. You've just dropped it On pur-
pose. haven't you? I don't suppose
there's a word of it true, Miss Cot