Atwood Bee, 31 Jan 1902, p. 3

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Rae eRe ese: RE ADVICE TO A pcan, ary. chances'at the out#et of your him MONSOON CEYLON TRA." ~* married life. : : were e es © « 4 -_- vy The Coming of Gillian A Pretty irish Romance. at. -, ? a a 4 § 4 > _--es "Couldn't I?" Mrs. . Deane says, coolly surveying him with an amus- ed Jook. "Then you shouldn't re- peat Opinions ab if you believed them tnough they were Lady Da- mer's!" f She laughs again at his! evident confusion. "Of course I heard you the door, and of course, hear an through I didn't y . . of myself," she said, smiling. "I knew she was as mad as could be--I didn't know she was as mnd as all that, though," she adds, serenely; and then, seeing his sudden look of amazement, there is another sud- den flash of a laugh with eyes, teeth, Bae von heen brilliants. know what 'mad' oe it "te American for angry or vexed," she says, gayly. " could see Lady Damer wes horribly vexed at my unexpected appear- ance; but it was 'horribly under- bred' of her to abuse me behind my back in the first minute of our acquaintance, and I've a good no- tion to teli her so!" "Pray do not! Oh, pray do not !" pleads XGittan, quite reddening with alarm ot the frightful idea ; and Blug- ham Lacy adds, eurnestly, 'th: ugh a can bardly tell whether he ls angrier with her or with himself: , Mrs. Deane. indiscretion, and the thoughtless repetition--let mine be all. the biame, and wlll try and mtone for to fie utmost of my power." P "Oh, no, I won't lay ali the blame on you," the lady says. coolly, with her epork'ing eyes five lon him: "that would be unjust, which is worse than belng under-bred. anyhow, Lac, bowe in silence, jovking, as he femle, provoked and mertified beyond measure; but the next moment Mrs. Denne extends her fine. white arm and dainty little hand. literally bDlaz- ine with emeralds and diamonds, "phe says, briefly ani havent come amonest Mine ar 2 you to quarrel, an LT eheuld be friends | with vou for Gilian's sake, If not for your ownm And I gucss you wouldn't like ne to be deadi; cnemies ?" This last is sald ing gravity that is suggestiv without the barbed glance shot him from the bright eves "A ON York flirt. Laer, "Very well. li her own ground If that things pleasant. Niece for Deane, ane quite a new rie therein-law.' But "poor old) Deane.' emerging from his dressing-room at this mo- 'nent, with an expanse of snowy shirt front, with the latest fashion +tuds--set with an opal and diamonds radiating like a centre of light--from the centre of his breast, with his bald head shining, and his thin lair artfally made the most of, and his whiskers glistening with brushing and "briliantine," and a gleam of the chain of his jiundred-guinea chrono- meter, with its massive locket, and hls diamond and opal eleeve links quite lighting up his etenlae dress, 'poor old Deane" looks if ever a man may be envied and cnmweetediaued on his marriage that man ts Herbert Denne. He beams in smi'ing affection on his handsaqme bride, in a lesser degree on his only child, and shakes hands effu- sively with Captain Lacy. "Delighted to sre you! delighted 1o see you again, my dear child, and you, Captain Lacy , 1am very pleased to make your acquaintance!" he says, rubbing his palms. "" Yop've been --ah --Iintroduced to my wife? And Gil- lian, I see--ah--quite fallen in love with her new mother: T thonght she would, Aramtntha, dear But Aramintha hos folt the slight involuntary shrinking of the girl at the Bhrane that defines their rela- e enough her on keep pour old thing In "NO, no," she says, Suni: ie can't be. that. She can't ha ,an- other reai mother, and I've iy right to the name, and I don't'want her to call mo step-mother, either. She Ih} call me what my sisters and my cou- gins and my aunts call me, "Mintie,' won't you, GilHan. pleasoc "I wi} call you whatever you and her ovine very fast papa I 0" Gillian says, gad he art warming this dashing, frank-spoken belle. "Thanks," Mintle says, giving Gil- lian a semi-maternal hu in her 'shapely white arms, with their jew- eled bangles. The hug displays the white curves and gracious outlines, as Well as the gold twining snakes with. their oneres eyes, and Mintie is gratified look of a 'anpeovesion frost. Captain °y a not my cat me Mintfe until yo rried him," she says, with that irresistibly if ed 2 Toe ee 3 with a demure. question- \ at! thinks! In. droll assumption'of intense' gravity and innocence beneath the sparkle of her eyes. "That ig a privilege I am going wa eave up for him when he ig my son, Pid And she amet out londly with in- tense amusement . e perceives that the engaged couple appear -- sca by this-plain spoken, ra ery. tain Lacy changes color and turhs away with a hasty excuse for his eas and dashes upstairs two steps a, time, und. Gillian crimsons patnfally 'and bites her lips nervously, trying to smile under Mintie's scru- tiny. "My!" the Ameriean young lad says, coolly, 'most Engiish girls I've met weren't a bit shy, Why, youre regularly engaged to him and have your ring--yes, Isee, cat's-eyes and diamonds --very nice indeed," with good-natured patronage and a glance at her own magnificent emeralds, fit for an empress to wear; "and your trousseau ig nearly ready, isn't it? By the bye, you are to come over to Paris with me, to get a couple of dresses direct from Worth himself. Why, Gillian, you are all but mar- riled!' Mrs. Aramintha says, gaily. Gillian shivers suddenly, but says nothing. ss And 'he is real downright charm- ing!" she odds, in a smiling under- tone, "and he has got a charming opinion of himself, 'too,"" she adds, satirically--"'sure to, you know, with a meek little sweetheart like you. Never mind, Gillinn, Till set him to rights for you. He's vain," says Mintie reflectively. as she and Gillian go down the wide stairs together, "and hee been allowed to think himself a tremendously superior creature, but that's his worst fault, Ithink. He's a Johnnie-Bull aristcerat--nu bout des ongles--and he's a kind-hearted, honorable fellow under the veneer. There you' have him, dear," she 'eis br a droll jiitle defiant smile, ching Gillian closely, "though or cones you'd lik» to shake me and pull off my swich for presum- | Lig discuss the beloved soul and the glory of your life. see, you're not twenty. so I know what you think about lovers?" Min- tie says, sagely. "You are net to a that," Gil- Ilan Miys, Ruadi n'y using -on the steps b low and lookin up at her father's wife with a swift, hot blush, that pales awny to absciute deadly whiteness, and great, dark eyes full of pnssionate wistfulness. "It would not bys honest, it would not be right to let you think that: Captain Lacy 1 would not wish it, either. He is very | kind--very good and me t very considernte and thoughtful, and I like him very much, but--he is no said," she says. huskily, shivering visibly from excitement. 1 "Isn't he? Mintic says, carelessly, ; smiling. "Well, my dear, you ve much the better chance of happiness if the ot la is on his side and not yo as TAWaedly she adds, shrewd glance "Ah, 'Mr. Right' fone I wonder why she shivers, though? I didn't shiver when |! promised to marry Mr. Deane, though my Mr. Right had gone wrong." And there is'a sharp, palned threb of a woman's heart deep down nnder the strata of millinery. and jewels. gayety and vivacitx, which go to wake up Mr. Deane's bride, as memory puts before -- one of what you with apother Wrong. her fatal fadeless pictr "No, it' ds not car hie 'aida elther," Gillian persists, ae a lower tone; "he just regards-me as I do him." "Ohl isn't it?" Mintie says, more enrelessly still: "a better chance, my | dear, of happiness, when neither of | you adore each other! You'll havea reali good time of it. Gillian, If you marry him being sure you are good, honest friends, and nothing more. You expect so much less than when out wings." Mentally she adds: "Miss Right gone wrong. too! It will bs a bad look-out by and by ff! ' there is any inconvenient constancy ' remaining on one side or the other! She is n real nice little thing and rather pretty in a washed-out, wispy style, but the idea of n young girl of her oge wearing that severe- looking velvet gown! She's for all the world like the picture of the good girl In the 'gcody-goody' books who refuses the handsome, young. worldly lover, and ends by marrying the consumptive young minister who an early death 'when the June roses are blowing and all nature is at its loveliest !'" 2 "Now, I think the Boor old ma 'towed 1% you believe each other angels with- I bi ori ake next er ie Ph our visitor ; ; e gauntl ment's notice, "nt paveee ionows nen quaking. shancea are that had Mrs, penny "thrown down the gauntlet, Lady Damer 'would not have pieked it up, for.a change has come o'er the spirit of her dream, even in this brief t A few uibeteeren tee calculation have shown her the folly of 'giving way to anger and fighting against the inevitable. A few minutes more have shown her the wisdom of con- cillation -- her sole policy: But the brief tete-a-tete interview. which takes place a few minutes-later ef- fects a great alteration in her act- ual feelings. CHAPTER XXXVI. "I've just two words or so to say, to you, Lady Damer!" Mr. Deane says, hurriedly, in an andertone, as he enters the drawing-room. "Just a few words, if you 'will Kindly allow me, while we are alone "Something the wife Knows noth- ing about," her ladyship thinks, with a sudden satisfaction. "It is-ubout business, Lady Da- mer," he goes on, with oa nervone cough, before the glitter of the gold- rimmed eye-glasses and the folded white hauds, and Lady Damer, stern- ly courteous, silently waiting his ex- planation. "It"a about business--hem ! And it's just as well to suy it at once and have done with t eeays ,khurrying on very fast. 'I must tell you--as of course you may understand--my mar- riage will make a difference, but not a Very great one, In Giilian"s pros- pecte, dear Lady Damer !" Her ladyship has her emotions well in hand, just =e and she smiles--a eold, slight sm "Ag long as your happiness does not intestons with your child'e happlness, Mr. Deane, and with that of any dear nephew, I aim oontent," she sa)8, with a @igh of womaniy meckoess., "Heaven forbid! Heaven forbid it Fon Lady Damer!" tests Mr. ne. "No. po! And my dear wife anti be the last person In the world to wish gat, I assure jou, Lady Damer, She is the most generous, noble-spirited creature possible |" Miutie'es uxorious lord says, enthusi- astically, diverging from the subject in hand, as the eoldiy-patient smile and drooped eyelids of his companion remind him. And he plunges back {nto } hist subject in abrupt haste, "T must make proper provish n-- ah--that is, I have done 50, Lady Damer--for my young woman like nee--exe pessible children, you see," Mr. Deane says. huskily, and ecughing reper Gade "Your Iadyship quite understands the necessity of my doing so; bat I wish to,do what is just and right by my daughter, as I told you." - ; "T knew "-- Ametican woman had made him eigr w her favor already." Lady Damer thinks, In voiceless bitterness. s "Now, I'll alow the. young couple, if they wish to morry at once," says Mr. Deane, briskly, "eighteen hundred pounds for the first year of thelr marriage, and until Gillian is £1; and as soon as she inherits her own money_ undew fier mother's will, wilf give thousand pounds in , settic it on her on her wedding day, which will make up thelr income to the same amount --eighteen hundred a year; and at death abe will inherit twenty thousand mor Lady Damcr. In case she }s my only surviving child, she will have forty thousand. I will give them ao house, und furnish it handsomely; she will have a first- rate outfit and some diamonds, as her wedding present. And that is what I mean to do for hen Lady Damer," he sald, deferentially, but with a certain man-of-busluess stud- diness In his volce and attitude. Lady Damer counts up rapidly. "Sixty-five thousand. at the worst probably eighty-five thousand! Much better than I hoped.'! ehe thinks. 'Whatever yon decide on, [ am sure your daughter's welfare be a paramount considera- she snuys, blandly. with a "But as there certainly ts a considerable difference in the amount which we were given to un- derstand wus your dauchter's dowry when first we had the pleasure of her acquaintance, it is only rea- sonable, if a little premature, that we suggest you should be generous n an equivalent degree in the mat- ter of settlements." The man-of-business' sturdiness liardens every feature of Mr. Deane's red, shjning face. He puts his hands' in his pockets and looks batk at Lady Damer as keenly and coldly as-.she looks 7 'him. "What does.your. ladyship think would b2 'generosity' in the matter!" he 'shrewd #&nd"Sarcaatic in a ain lacey your iadyship meang?* : (yee pe 3 Says must hay med hf = Sa fESRt: aes # the TEETH 260 i | ask memeng. " 'Generosity' toward .Cap- |' Satay, serving : 'Vi ; "Good. for 'Baa 'Teeth Not = for iy Good. Ts rp eek i 2 Sozodont Liquid 24c. Large Lieuidand Powder be 2-7) At all stores or by mail.» Sample of the Liquid for the postage, 3c. HALL & RUCKEL, MONTREAL. herself for battle.. "What would you call generosity, Mr. Deane ft" "T'll tell ayou, what I consider is just, my, lady," Mr. Deine, says, de- see a This *plebetan person can eyen in a_ discussi earl's daughter. daughter's money strictly.settled on herself and her children, with a re version to her husband if he survive her. .An allowance of whatever she pleases to make" to him during her lifetime." " An allowance?! -- an allowance of pocket-money from his wife?" Lady Damer exclaims, ber. gray eyes fairly blazing | with a pcmoenl rage, and scorn.' "Wh @ prospect for the | future Earl. ym Parraed? " 'He four good lives from the my Indy," Mr. Deane says, a business-like' coolness that amazes and rather subdues her. 'My very much in love with your daughter if he en- dure such a humilia she says, in her hanghtleut, voice. "And I am' quite sure that, in the 'event of his marriage with your daughter under such existing arrangements, hjs sole partition in his wife's money will be to dine at her table, unless when he dines. at his club. His own small private in+ peal will defray his other eX, pens a | "idn' t know he had any income but his Leg fi Mr. Deane says, curtly "His foot is on his native heath." when it * commen to a sharp discus- sion of money matters. "He gave me to understand he had no income the letter he wrote his keen eyes watching amer, "and, of course with We gay young officer, 'nothing but his pay' means Re in Genes What debts cae he, Lady a "y only do not know," she Bays, curtly, taking refuge in falashoed from the brusquerie of this rude | man of business. "Possibly he owes | his page? money; most young men | do' lieve. You can question him closely if you desire to do sd, Mr. Deane." "Certainly, I must hares an under- standing with him as to his pecu- niary position before he marries my daughter! Your .Indyship, as woman of business, cannot blame me for that," Mr. Deane says decidedly, growing firmer as he intuitively feels that her ladyship's position is on very insecure footing. ' and any just debts--tradesmen's debts--I shall clear off for him," he adds, quietly. "Thank goodness!" Lady Damer | thinks, with another sigh of relief. "That means at least five hundred pounds repaid to' me, and five hun- | dred to those money-lending people." "Thank you; you are very kind," she says, coldly gracious; and ag the usurper, Mintie, enters ut this mo- ment, with her arm within Gillan's, Lady Damer is able to greet her with a smile, and a courteous, form- al hope expressed that she found her rooms confortable. "I should have had much pleasure in preparing a_ better reception for yo-. Mrs. Deane, if you had not taken us s0 by sur- prise," sne says, condescendingly. "Oh, thanks, the rooms wt do very well," Mintie says, carelessly. "We can hare some -- _ refurnishing done by by course; but x on quite datisfied ye th them nt present.' She i ns Scricacial by the great lady's graciousness as she was by her | hauteur, apparently, aud, conscious | &@ of the faultlessnees of her toilet, her diamonds, her complexion, and r colffure. she sustnins Lady Damer's most cri@ical inspection in the blaze of lights at the dinner table. as well ae In the arawing-room with smiling sercnity. a the olivebranch being extend- ' good-naturedly accepts it, and the gond -te that has begun so storm- iky promises to end in a sunset glow { of good temper and general amia- bility The bride. Aramintha, is conscious of looking very handeome, and' bril- linnt, and of reeelying her due reward in the adorefion of her obggegious husband, her meek, fair ste fPagh ter'a timid admiration, and Captain Lacy's very evident approbation. Lady Dampr'e polite alfability, too, gives her n>? cause for complaint, and | altogether the brilliant Aramintha ts } pleased and satisfied by her new sur- | roundings, and her new-wedded lord ! lg radiant with satisfaction In conse- quence, and his fatherly feelings to- ward hie daughter and 'her lover overflow in brond hints concerning ile intentions toward them in_ the future. He alludes. smil'ngly--rubbing his broad palms tozether--to pleas- ant trifles in. the persprotive, in the ape of 'ta few ara a gtd andateshors rae or two," " @ailing" yacht," enn "a beetty iittle mee t care to live, in chiing, are t pions Min lepends,"' Mintie Sie i: "with a a "Fine weather, agreeable company, and pretty costumes, thee one can owe -- tim ee 'gent husband, sm two, requisites for er your enk be at hand.' G --you and E ren as comfortable a little party as--'" " Four old married people--two hus- bands with their own two wives!" screams Mintie; with a ringing laugh: wn there wouldn' t be a bit of fun n 7 Lacy grins a little under his atin: tache,. and cannot forbear a gleam Crof- sarcastic inquiry at Mr. Deane, who; meeener, laughs the matter oft very well "Bhall I eas st home, then, Ara- mintha, my ar?" he inguires patiently, smilin 'Oh, no," Aramintha says, gra- clously. " You can come along. TH {ind you very useful." With which hapa ap of wifely af- lection Mr. Deane ia well-pleaged nd, as he netia: a tht his future eon-in-law very barely assen polite indifference to all these gene ous hit og and allusions, :Mr. Da unensily beg wonder If, as he phrases it to himself, he hag "out it too fine," If the heir-presumptive to an efiridom is not eee haughtily "1-contemptuous of his favo And in another brief dbiftaladation with Lady Damer Jatee on in the evening, he makes rosh concession which pleases her a ae that she recelves it with a cold bow. "Whatete = ake Gilian"s husband ore comiortable, will of courge add ra Gilllan'a | happiness, Mr. Deane," she éays, with bland reproof. B Lady Damer esecks her own rooms 2 well-contented woman that night, and as she puts on her warm, crimson pelgnoir, witi its becoming ruches of Crimson lace and ribbons ' she smiles at herself in the glasg, a thinks how well she lo-ks fifty years. "Though my chest is not st ong. and they used te 9 I ta heart« disense--no wonder, am re, from the Ife I have nae yr ine thinks, with a eharp, short sigh. "Nothing but worry, and bitterness, and, misery, of one kind or another! That stupid Coghlan did say I must be careful = exciting myself, as there was som thing organically wrong, or --_ oe something of thjat kind. is on nonsense! I only want ena mf and relief from the intolerable 'monotony and dullness : my experience. Buried from year's nd to year's end in a dull, country- house in gol hateful Ireland, as far from society as jf J were in the Fifi Islands , te i with a gor for her happy but when he ls w panions, drinking and 'telllng vulgar storles--in the soclety*'he always prefered to mine!" There is the old root of bitterness. bearing frult like gall springing up at this moment. She plucks and eats, and tears of angry~self-pity and. despalr come to her eyes. "JT was a handsome git enough and attractive enough t have been a duchess, and ILknow ; might coreg 2 " she mutters. I would not wait, nor strive, nor do any hing, but be a silly, blind, be- totted fool for the sake of 'handsome Harry Damer,' as they called him! If I had hada wise, clear-headed mother, that would never have hap- pened! ut what could we poor, kei girls, with a penniless 1 for a bagel do with no one. to us? Louie married to spare all her life; poor "And I fell in love, idiot that I was, with a man who--never cared for me--married me acid my title, because into it be 'my father and_his en relations, or Bbecause--the m eas0n~-- = was tired of his mistress, the Col- een Bawn, whom he took from her pone and potatoes as. his ideal of all 2 that was charming! "Ig boy you, Eimgkany? Come in!" she sa eagerly, as a tap sounds at the Soor, ant to have the current of her chong altered. "Come in sit down, Bingham," she r ts, amile as he ap- you oe sone of Reser A eons od ly, otakitg down into her easy chair, afd smiling up at her nkptiote with affectionate pleasure. "Sit down and Bingha: can't fn a n ' the fire. Bpie: his splendid bride. har- dened his h eart 2... (To be Contiaved.) ----- ee In the usual poker ga Jocks and a pu i: nog eo openers. ' ioe

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