Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1913-03-25
THE AMERICAN COUNTESS
By Eta w. PIERCE.


II cannot say. 1t has bad look.
Would to heaven you could hear some
thing from her.
"Amen!" poor Bee would murmur.
One never to- be forgotten evening,
this same Lawrence appeared In the
studio, as usual, and found Bee and
Miss Mabel Sardis sitting alone in that
temple of art, taking an informal cup
Of tea. Mrs. Sardis was asleep; so
also was the baby.
Bee greeted her visitor cordially, and
poured him cup Of the cheering bev-
erage. Standing at the corner Of the
mantel, resting his saucer convenient
ly on its edge. he looked down at her
with knitted brows., r... .n,.5rtt. ~
"You have heard no news?" he said.
Bee shook her head.
"Good heaven! this s growing un-
bearable, Is II not?" .'s t"
Exactly It's the most extraordi-
nary thing / ever heard of. We have
sent two cable dispatch, es, and no end
of letters and received not one word in
reply. Oh, the poor darling! How /
wish that I had her in my armsi
Where Is she. I wonder, tonight%
Harding's brown face whitened. He
put down his tea.
II dined not an hour ago." he said
hastily, "and do not stand in need Of
any refreshment. Is SAKE in?" E
mo. He went out upon an errand
just before you entered"
Harding walked twice or thrice
across the studio, with a hurried. ner-
vous step. He seemed greatly moved.
II received q letter today from Ar
chic Van Dorn." he said; "he Is in
Paris, you know. Woald you like to
read it?" a'>1
He drew a letter from his notebook.
and placed 1t in Bees outstretched
hand. t
She opened 1t eagerly. It contained
a good part Of the current gossip
which Van Dorm had picked up in
Paris, concerning the hapless countess
and her worthless, spendthrift hus-
band. Bees voice trernbled, and her
cheeks burned angrily as she returned
the communication to !ts owner.
II knew it all before" she faltered;""
''or, II did not know 1t, guessed 1t,
Lawrence From my heart wish that
she was safe with us. Oh, what a mis-
cradle mistake 1t all was-that marri-
age. I mean"
He answered not a word. For few
moments silence reigned in the studio
the silence Of people all absorbed in
painful thoughts. It was broken, at
last by the rumble Of 9 carriage In
the street below, and then by sharp
pull at the door-bell.
"vistors!" said Mercy.
"And my servant is out" replied
Mrs. SAKE, with nervous start. WHO
can 1t be at this hour? Eric would not
ring, for he has q key"
Permit me to ascertain" said Law
renee. promptly. "Ten to one, an Of
flee boy has been sent in search Of me.
There's no peace for the wicked, neith-
er any for men Of my calling"
He was Off down the stair before
another syllable could be spoken. A
gas jet burned brightly in the hall be-
low. Harding drew back the fasten-
ings Of the door, and opened 1t wide,
letting out a flood of cheerful light
into the darkness beyond.
No familiar office boy greeted his
sight; but in the street stood carri-
age, and on the topmost step Of the
house black female figure waited-a
nerveless, weary, shrinking figure. that
seemed ready to fall where 1t stood. A
faint voice began to say: rs this the
house of'-But with the half uttered
sentence on her lips, she suddenly flung
man towering there at the entrance Of
the refuge which she sought. Her
question ended in a sharp cry. She
staggered back a step. Oh, to return
like this to the last haven left to her
on earth! Oh, to find this face, Of all
home faces, the first to look upon her
misery! Verify, it was more bitter
than death!
"Merciful God!" said Lawrence
Harding, and he caught her sinking
figure and drew 1t swiftly through the
door into the lighted hall. Then he
called out sharply to the pair In the
studio above. In moment both were
rushing down the stair.
Lawrence! Lawrence, what is it?"
cried poor, frightened Bee.
What was It? A black-robed shape,
PROSTATE on Lawrence Harding's
breast; some rippled bronze hair, and
white face. worn with great suffer-
ing, upturned in the gleam Of the gas
jet: limp, ungloved hand. from which
the wedding ring had vanished, trail
ing at her side-Ethei, come back, In
sorrow and desolation, to the kindred
whom she had left not three years be-
fore in pride and splerdor, and the full
flood tide of high hopes and expecta-
tions-yea, it was the once petted and
adored countess, lying a refugee, a
homeless, hopeless wanderer, without
breath or motion, in the strong, sup
porting arms Of her old-time lover,
Lawrence Harding.