Fulton County tribune. (Wauseon, Ohio) 1883-1925, 1922-02-09
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Richard Carter had called the place
~Crownlands," not to please himself,
or even his wife. But it 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 it, had belonged
to a Carter, and the tradition was that
two hundred years before it 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 owner into a vague .cousinship,
spoke of him as "a kinsman of ours"
and proceeded to tell old friends that
Crownlands had always been "in the
family"
1t was a home of creamy brick, CO.
lonial in design, and set in splendid
lawns and great trees on the bank of
the blue Hudson. White driveways
circled it, great stables and garages
across curve of green meadows had
their own invisible domain, and on the
shining highway there was full mile
of high brick fence, marching line OF
great naples and sycamOres, and
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 a woman worthy of the ex-
quisite setting, and might well nave
turned an older head than that of the
boy beside ner. Brunette, with smooth
cheeks deeply touched with rose, black
ewes, and a warmly crimson mouth
that could be at once provocative and
relentless, she glowed like flower
herself in the sweet and enervatfng
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 Anthony's hand, was like
child's
The man was twice her size, and as
dark as she, earnest, eager, and today
with troubled expression clOuding
his face 1t was to Danish that look.
if she might, that Isabelle had delib
erately stopped him here.
She had been behaving badly toward
him, and in her rather irresponsible
and shallow way she was sorry for it.
Isabelle was a famous flirt, her hus-
band knew it, everyone knew it.
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 of a woman whose husband
smiles upon her playing, and whose
position is impregnable.
But this boy, this Anthony, was diff
ferent. In the first place he was
young-but twenty-six In the second
place he was, or had been, her own
sons closest friend. Ward Carter was
twenty-five, and his mother nineteen
years older.
Anthony was young, and he was abb
surd, but he did not know it, and Isa-
belle began to feel the difficulty of
keeping the whole world from discOv-
ering it before he did. He made no Sc
cret of his 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 n little scorch-
ing of fingers. Appearances meant
nothing to Tony, and she had let the
nIay go too far now to convince him
that she did not return something of
his feeling.
She looked down at him now, con-
tent to he alone with her and at her
feet. and hundred mixed emotions
stirred her. His feeling for her was
not only pitiable and absurd in him,
but it was rapidly reaching the point
when it would make her absurd and
nitiable, too. Nina, inStinctively
srpnting the affair, had already eX
nressed herself as hating that IDIOT"
Ward had scOwled. of late, at the mere
mention of TOny's name. Even her
husband, the patient Richard, seeing
the youth ensconce himself firmly be-
side her in the limousine, had had
aside his mild comment: rs this young
man fixture In our family, dearF
You should be playing tennis,
Tony" said Isabelle.
"Tennis :" A look of distaste crossed
Anthony's face.
"PIease-Cherie !" he begged.
There was a silence brimming with
sweetness AMI color. Tony laid his
hand against he: knee, CROPPED until
her own warI., smooth fingers we're In
his own