The Lamar register., 1910-03-09

to trees already nearly leafess few
November roses chung. The walls.
hung in yellow brocade, extended to
the dullest day sense of glow and
light. The few pieces of furniture.
veritable treasures even in their old
epoch, indicated the faultless, taste
and virtuosity OF the selector. Before
the fire in the same yellow satin
small divan with bronze reliefs on
shining legs and back. few stiff, dig
nified fauteuila, a long comfortable. a
mirror screen. On the mantel clock
and candelabra whose graceful in
fantile subjects suggested the design
to have been intended to please the
little king of Rome, biscuit group. a
candle-lamp with vivid green shade
these were all.
Its a pretty little ROOM" Mrs.
Henly said indulgently. "All the sun
there ever is comes here. but to-day
it's bit chilly. isn't it? So had the
fire lit early"
She was before 1t with the bellows
urging the flame. AS she raised her
matronly self up she said: ITS Lady
Ormond's style: she was never con-
things out. It's like a sweet-box to
my thinkin' and bit bare. 1t needs
people to set it off," she criticised, I'M
consciously paying the proper arts
tic tribute to the style of the period
the room represented-creat to dis
play and to serve as background for
the First Empire elegance and sim
plicity
But Miss Carew only caught at the
name. Lady Ormond She had seen
1t often in the peapers.
You know her ladyship-no." Mrs.
Henly took for granted. In frame
on whose mahogany border buzzed the
Napoleonic bee in bronze was the
photograph of a lady in ball dress.
Mrs. Henly lifted it.
Lady Ormond at the last court
ball"
The girls eyes were met by pair
of eyes handsome and hooking, hard
and cold as her own We're soft and
sweet
"A professional beauty" Mrs. Henly
ranked her. But" and she connected
her with the room as she glanced
around Lady Ormond's creation "a
trifie cold"
Miss Carew replaced the picture.
The proud beauty. her cape of velvet
and sable falling from one bare shout
der, seemed to reign over the room.
Miss Carew no longer felt the warmth
of its greeting. II had assumed a
personality in which she had no part.
The personages had come to people
tit suffocated her. and she walked
mechanically over to the window and
stood there. looking out on the dreary
aspect OF bare trees. the whirl of
withered leaves along the garden
paths. and the few last roses. more
wintry and melancholy in their desola-
ton than the specter leaves that
had already passed through death.
She said hesitatingly: Since Mr..
Tempest has telegraphed, ! suppose
1t will be best for me to wait lit
tie"
But Mrs. Henly interrupted her.
Wait? Why. Mr.. Basil wouldn't
hear OF you not waiting. miss He'd
think I had not made you comfortable.
What can get your" She fingered.
Perhaps Miss Carew understood
herself-her natural curiosity. perhaps
Lady Ormond in her frame. the bold
ness of her sway at Craven. made the
American say. lifting to the placid
English face her clear dark eyes;
I'm here for the first time In Eng
land. came from my country ex-
pressly to write a study OF Mr.. Temp
est for America"
The old housekeeper smiled. "A
study of Mr.. BASIL" she echoed
Why. my dear. ! had him at ten
years old for my own. as ! might say.
and couldn't study him, It's like
learnin' a new language every day
He's never the same"
It's his charm
oh. daresay," Mrs. Henly was
doubtful. there being moods she had
right to remember as not possessing
that characteristic. But he'll not
tell you anything. miss. He won't be
writer. I've seen them who would
study him as you call it-come and
go. chiefly. No one ever stayed as
you have" She paused. You're a
writer. too. them
tTo BE CoNTINUEDD