Mountain Home Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1915-1946, 1922-01-14
CHAPTER !.

Richard Carter had called the place
"Crownlands," not to please himself,
n eve his wife. But II was to his
mothers newly born family pride that
the idea Of being the Carriers of
Crownlands made its appeal. The es-
tate, when he bought 1t, had belonged
to a Carter, and the tradition was that
two hundred years before 1t had been
a grant of the first George to the first
of the name In America. Madame
Carter, as the old lady liked to be
called. Immediately adopted the un-
known wner Into a vague cousinshlp,
spoke of him as "a kinsman Of ours
and proceeded to tell old friends that
Crownlands had always been Sin the
family
1t was a home of creamy brick, CO.
ionial in design, and set In splendid
lawns and great trees on the bank Of
the blue Hudson. White driveways
circled 1T, great stables and garages
across a curve of green meadows had
their own invisible domain, and on the
shining highway there was a full mile
of high brick fence, a marching line Of
great naples and sycamores, and a
demure lodge beside the mighty iron
gates.
On one Of the wide benches that
were placed here and there on the de-
scending terraces, In the late hours Of
an exquisite summer afternoon. lsa-
belle Carter had seated herself, and
Anthony Pope, her cavalier, had
thrown himself on the steps at her
feet.
She was q woman worthy OF the ex-
quisite setting, and might well have
turned an older head than that of the
boy beside her. Brunette, with smooth
cheeks deeply touched with rose, black
eyes, and a warmly crimson mouth
that could be at once provocative and
relentless, she glowed like a flower
herself in the sweet and enervating
heat OF the summers first warm day.
She was the tiniest of women, and the
little foot, that. In its transparent silk
stocking and buckled slipper. was
close to Arthony's hand. vas like a
child's.
The man was twice her size, and as
dark as she. earnest, eager, and today
with a troubled expression clouding
his face. 1t was to Danish that look,
II she might. that Isabelle had DELHI
erately stopped him here.
She had been behaving badly toward
him, and in her rather irresponsible
and shallow way she was sorry for II.
Isabelle was a famous fiirt. her hus-
band knew IT. everyone knew 1t.
There was always some man paying
desperate court to her. and always
half-a-dozen other men who were
eager to be in his place. Isabelle
lived for this. went from one adven-
ture to another with the naive conf
dence { n woman whose husband
smiles r,i,on her playing, and whose
position is lmpregnable.
Dut luiS buy, this Ahthohy, WuS uAi-
ferent. In the first place he vas
young-but twenty-six. In the second
place he was. OF had been, her own
sons closest friend. Ward Carter was
twenty-five, and his mother nineteen
years older.
Anthony was young, and he a abb
surd, but he did not know 1t, and isa-
belle began to feel the difficulty Of
keeping the whole world from discov-
ering 1t before he did. He made no Sc
cret of bis passion. He came straight
to her In any company; he never
looked at anybody else. To her own
daughter Nina, seventeen years old,
his attitude was almost paternal: he
ignored Ward as If their friendship
had never been.
Isabelle saw that she had made a
mistake. She should have killed this
affair at the very beginning. Tony
was not like the older men, willing to
play the game with just a little scorch-
ing Of fingers. Appearances meant