The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1924-03-28
The Evil Shepherd

look at but she's worth forty guild to
me- ay, and one to spit on r.
Sir Timothy counted out. some notes
from the pocketbook which he had
produced, and handed them to the
man.
Here are fifty pounds he said.
"The mare is mine"
He called over his footman and d.
rected him to unharness the animal
and take It to his private stable. ID
town. &;
The man touched his hat and
fastened to commence his task. Sir.
Timothy turned to Francis. 1--WE
might walk the last few yards, Mr..
Ledsam," he said W
The latter acquiesced at once, and
In a moment or two they were In the
opera house.
Margaret Hilditch, her chair pushed
back into the recesses of the box,
scarcely turned her head at her fa-
theirs entrance. St
Il have brought an acquaintance of
yours, Margaret" the latter an
nounced, as he hung up his hat. "You
remember Mr.. Ledsam?"
Francis drew little breath Of re-
lief as he bowed over her hand. For
the second time her inordinate COM
posture had been assailed. She was her
usual calm and Indifferent self almost
Immediately, but the CLEAN of SUR
prise, and he fancied not unpleasant
surprise, had been unmistakable
Are you devotee. Mr.. Ledsam?"
she asked.
Il am fond Of music" Francis an
swered, especially this opera"
She motioned to the chair In the
front Of the box. facing the stage.
"You must sit there she insisted.
II prefer always to remain here, and
my father always likes to face the
audience. really believe she went
on. that he likes to catch the eye Of
the journalist who writes little gossipy
items, and to see his name in print"
But you iyourself?p Francis ven
tured.
II fancy that my reasons for pre-
ferring seclusion should be obvious
enough she replied, little bitterly.
my daughter is inclined, fear, to
be little morbid Sir Timothy said.
settling down in his place.
Francis made no reply. A triangu-
lar conversation of this sort was al
most impossible. The members of the
orchestra were already climbing up to
their places, In preparation for the
overture to the last act. Sir Timothy.
rose to his feet.
You will excuse me for a moment"
he begged. II see a lady to whom ]
must pay my respects"
Francis drew sigh Of relief at his
departure. He turned at once to his
companion.
did you mind my coming?" he
asked.
Mind it?'- she repeated. with al
most insolent nonchalance. ''Why
should 1t affect me in any wayf My
fathers friends come and go. ! have
no interest in any of Them"
But he protested, Il want you to
be interested in me-
She moved q little uneasily in her
place. Her tone, nevertheless, re-
manned icy.
Gould you possibly manage to avoid
personalities in your conversation, Mr..
Ledsam?" she begged. II have tried
already to tell you how feel about
such things.p
She was certainly difficult. Francis
realized that with little sigh.
Were you surprised to see me with
your father?" he asked, little In
anely
II cannot conceive what you two
have found in common" she admitted.
Perhaps our interest in you" he
replied. "By-the-bye, ! have Just seen
him perform a quixotic but very fine
action" Francis said. HE stopped a
carter from thrashing his horse,
knocked him down, bought the horse
from him and sent it home"
she was mildly interested.
IAN amiable side of my fathers
character which no one would sus-
pect." she remarked. 1.-THE entire
park of his country house at Hatton
End. is given over to broken-down anil
mails" M
81 am one Of those" he confessed,
"who find this trait amazing"
"And am another" she remarked
coolly. IF any, one settled down serl-
ously to try and understand my father,
he would need the spectacles Of De
Quincy, the outlook of a Voltaire,
and the calIousness of a. Borgia. You
see, he doesn't lend himself to any of
the recognized standards"
Neither do you," he said boldly.
She looked away FROM him across
the house, to where Sir Timothy was
talking to man and woman in one of
the ground-hoor boxes. Francis reeog-
nized them with some surprise-an
agricultural duke and his daughter
Tadv CYNTHIA Milton one of tha most