Image provided by: Morrow County Museum; Heppner, OR
About Lexington wheatfield. (Lexington, Or.) 1905-19?? | View Entire Issue (Nov. 30, 1905)
f i CHAPTER IX. For some reason Pauline Mailing was in a very irritable state of mind. Per haps she was regretting the moment's impulse that had prompted her to ac cept a nameless young painter. Babette, too, seemingly had a weight on her mind. She crept about her .work, laying out Miss Mailing's elegant evening toilet with a subdued air very different from her usual noiseless activity. Babette was doing her best to get through her duties, when, as ill luck would have it, memory for a moment asserted itself and brought before her a picture of a pretty black eyed urchin tossing from side to side in his small cot and crying out her name unceasingly as he refused the cooling drink offered by a hand he did not love. The maid sobbed sobbed audibly. Miss Mailing raised her eyes from their contemplation of the carpet and looked in dignified surprise at the young Frenchwoman. Noting for the first time the signs of tears on her face, Miss Mailing felt angry. "What in heaven's name is the matter with you, Babette? Pray don't let me have any weeping and wailing. If there is one thing that exasperates me more than another, it is a crying woman." "Pardon, mademoiselle; the grief over came me in spite of myself. I did hot intend to speak; but, as you have noticed my sorrow, I will make bold to tell you that I have a little stepbrother, the only being in the world who is related to me, and I have here a letter telling me he is very ill, and that he asks for me night and day night and day." The poor girl's voice broke for a moment; but she rallied and went on. "If mademoiselle could spare me for just enough time to get to Boulogne and back to see the poor little fellow!" "And what am I to do in the mean time??" Pauline asked icily. "Of course you can go if you like; but you need not come back. I am surprised you should ask me such an insane thing, when you know the house will be full of people the day after to-morrow. I could not possi bly do without you. Pray do not say an other word about it, and please leave off crying." Babette moved away to the far end of the room, wiped her eyes, and stood for an instant quite still, repressing the sobs that shook her frame. "If my little Pierre dies without see ing me I will never forgive you never! I will watch for a chance of doing you a great harm; and it will come if I am patient," the girl thought. After dressing Miss Mailing and mak ing the dressing room tidy, Babette pass ed through the picture gallery on her way to Mrs. Perkins' sanctum for her usual cup of tea. Thinking everybody must be downstairs, she stopped at Jack's easel and looked at Pauline's picture. "So you think the world is made for jour pleasure? You are too high a lady to trouble yourself with your servants' affairs; but perhaps they will trouble themselves witjl yours, madame! I have seen you flinch and shrivel up strangely sometimes. People don't shrivel up for nothing, unless they have a fear of some thing; and if they have a secret fear, there must be something bad to cause it. If my little darling dies without the comfort of kissing his Babette once, it will be your fault; and all my life long I will watch, watch, watch, to try to repay your cruelty to me and him!" and she looked as if she meant it. Jack, who had stopped until the last moment finishing his rather difficult let ter to Ethel in his own room, was struck by the intense hatred in the woman's face as he opened the door, wondered for the moment what could have caused it, wished the next that he could call it up at will and use her as a model for a fiend, and the next moment forgot all about it Throwing his letter on the hall table, he hurried Into the drawing room to make his peace for being late. Babette had her quiet cup of tea with Mrs. Perkins, and, with a plentiful shed' ding of tears, wrote to the woman who had charge of little Pierre, to say that she could not come to her darling just now. The letter was full of loving messages and promises, and the poor girl's heart felt very heavy as she put it into the bag. She had taken it into the hall her self. There was another letter lying there ready stamped for the post; she took it up carelessly, recognized it by the red seal as the one Jack had had in his hand when he passed her in the gallery, and stood trunstixed with surprise as she reud the address. "The address of that pretty demoiselle that I followed home from the museum, by her orders! Why, there is something in this! Why, if she wants the address of a lady who Is known to Monsieur Dornton, does she not ask him, instead of setting me to follow her like a po liceman? I shall have that to hud out!" "Babette, I want you," Mrs. Perkins called from the door that shut off (he servants' quarters. ' Something in the voice, some subtle touch of sympathy, struck Babette's quick ear. She turned so sharply that Mrs. Perkins had not time to conceal the black bordered letter she held In her hand. With a heart rending cry, Babette started forward and snatched the letter from her. She was a quick, impetuous, unreason lng and unreasonable creature; she did not stop to consider that she could not have reached the child ven U Pauline The ife's Secret, OR A BITTER RECKONING By CHARLOTTE M. BRAEMB had given her instant consent. She re membered only that her mistress had been cruel to her in the time of her trouble; and she registered a vow that, if there was any secret in Pauline Mail ing's past life, she would hunt it out and humiliate her. '. , . A letter lay by Ethel's plate; but she did not touch it. Mr. Mallett, self-absorbed as ever, did not notice how his daughter was struggling to preserve her usual composure all through the break fast time. Jack Dornton had not intended to be cruel when he wrote; but, after destroy ing a dozen sheets of paper in hi desire to be neither too soft nor too hard, he decided at last that the shorter and plain er he made it the better; and this was what he had written: "My Dear Ethel I should not have had the courage to do as you have done; but perhaps you are right as indeed you always are. For the future will you allow me to consider myself .. - "Your faithtul friend, "JOHN DORNTON?" "I am glad so very glad I wrote it. It would have been dreadful if we had married, and Jack had found out that he did not care for me afterward. Now I had better destroy that anonymous letter. I thought that perhaps Jack might have wished the engagement to continue, in which case I should have sent the letter to him and asked for an explanation." So Ethel went bravely about her home duties, though her very lips were white with the restraint she was putting on her feelings. She tried with all her strength of mind she possessed to put her humiliating grief away from her. "Why should I sorrow for him If he can throw me off without one word of regret?" she asked herself, angrily. ' Still, in spite of her determination to crush her love, under the weight of her self-respect, she now and again felt as if her heart would break. She resolute ly denied herself the relief of tears, and suffered far more'-' intensely in conse quence. The thrushes and the lively robins and perky sparrows were having a good time of it on the lawns at the Wigwam that morning. Captain Felling was fond of these small birus, and liked to see them about the place, and he had determined to do what he could to tame them dur ing the hard winter weather, should he decide to stay on in the Wigwam, which he had taken furnished for six months. He did not take much notice of the little creatures this morning, though. He was in a "brown study." and sat so motion less on his comfortable cane chair under the veranda that the more courageous of the birds hopped about within a yard of his feet. ' The fact was Captain Pelling was dis appointed, i He had expected a letter either from Ethel or Mr. Mallett that morning, to settle theil visit on the mor row. ' "Even if they do not care to come," he told himself, "they might have been civil enough to send some conventional excuse." After awhile it occurred to him that perhaps the Mallets had written, and that the letter had miscarried and he felt somewhat relieved at the bare idea. He made up his mind that he would go up. to town in any case; and as he went along he would decide upon what course he would pursue. And all through his vacillation he never once admitted to himself that it was his longing to see Ethel again that had for the moment transformed him into a human shuttle cock. Notwithstanding a short notice, the phaeton was ready a minute before the appointed time, looking perfect in every detail. Pelling had the reins in his hand and his foot on the step, when he noticed a telegraph boy coming toward the house. He waited a moment. Yes, it was for him! "From Geoffrey Mallett, Buckingham street, Bloomsbury, to Captain Pelling, The Wigwam, Wimbledon. Shall be with y"ou at 2 o'clock to-morrow. Get sketches in inspection order. And the man of thirty felt a lad again in his light-heartedness, as he sent his handsome bays along the road. CHAPTER X. Jack's love-making went on swim mingly during the lovely summer weath er and among the beauties of Mailing ford. The house was full of visitors now, and, In accordance with Pauline's wishes, their engagement was kept strict ly private. Still, in spite of all their care, the state of affairs was pretty shrewdly guessed at by most of the peo ple about them, and the well-bred guests wondered immensely at Miss Maying's sudden fit of unworldliness. Strangely enough, Babette, with all her sharpness, was one of the last to hear of her mis tress' Infatuation for the "artist chap," as he was scornfully described among the servants; but the moment she did hear of it she began wondering and watching un til in her own mind she was sure that Miss Mailing was really deeply In love with this good-looking -Mr. Dornton. Babette liked Jack, and, knowing, as she believed she did, the evil of Pauline's heart,' she was sorry to think that such an altogether too charming yonug man should be so thrown way. So Babette was always on the watch to some clew that would help her to .discover her yonng mistress' secret) and at this time she Bhowed great Interest in Mrs. Perkins' gossip about the family hoping to gleHu some scrap of Informa tion that might be of use to her in fur thering her revengeful purpose. "And if mademoiselle had married against the wishes of Milord Snuuners, or without his consont, Blie would have lost the whole estate?" she asked, one evening in August, as she sipped her tea leisurely, "Yes, if she did so before she was twenty-five; but after her twenty-fifth birthday she wui be free to marry whom soever she pleases; and, as she will be twenty-five on the seventeenth, of next month, there is not much chance of her sacrificing the estate at this late day, after waiting until now." , "That is so," observed Babette, with a disappointed sir. She reflected for a few moments, and -a flash of intelligence crossed her face as she asked, "And If mademoiselle had married in her ex treme youth before she was known as the heiress of the property how then?" "I think she would lose everything." "Who would have it after her?" "Sir Geoffrey, the . late' baronet's brother." - "To be sure! It must have been a great blow to him when he found himself rob bed of everything by his brother's In justice. What did he do? Where did he go?" "I don't know. He is as proud as any of the family, and, when his brother told him never to come near the place again, he put on his hat without one word, and walked away with his head as high as if he were the heir of thousands. -We've never seen a sight of him since that day, and it's my belief we never shall." Babette believed 'she had found the keynote to Pauline's secret trouble. That there was secret trouble she never'doubt for an instant. She had observed her mistress too closely to be misled on that point; she knew that nothing but some mighty fear could ' cause those sudden starts, followed by periods of anxious, heavy-browed thought, to which she was subject. And, when Babette went up stairs, she reasoned the matter out. "I have heard that she never knew she was her uncle's heiress until after her father's death. What is more likely then than she should have married out there in Italy married some poor idiot who was caught by her pretty face? And then, when my lady suddenly finds that she is a rich woman, she is tired of this poor fool, and runs away and enjoys her life by herself. I believe I have found the dark spot in my fine lady's life! If this is as I think, I can take from her her beloved fiance and her riches at one blow. How glorious that would be!" Her face glowed with savage satis faction at the bare thought of so com plete a revenge. She left her seat by the bay window of Pauline's dressing room, and paced up and down, her excitement being too great for her to remain still. The dusky gloom deepened until the room was all in shadow, and presently a house maid came in and lighted the candles in the large silver branches on. the toilet table. As the door closed behind the maid Ba bette resumed ber promenade, and came to a sudden stop as her eyes rested on the key left in the lock of a small bronze box. This box contained Miss Mailing's private keys! She locked up very little; but what she did lock up she was rather particular about, and her keys were in variably kept in this Indian, box, the key of which she carried about with her. As Babette stood looking with a dull, fascinated gaze at the key, she heard the rustle of silken skirts in the gallery outside. With a swoop like a hawk's, so swift and noiseless was it, she" pluck ed the little key from the lock and slip ped it into the pocket of her dainty frill ed apron. The next Instant Miss Mailing turned the handle of the door and saw Babette rearranging the lace draperies round the looking glass. She crossed the room and went straight to the table, glanced quickly at the box, and then turned to Babette. "Have you seen the key of this box?" Not to-day, mademoiselle." "Provoking!" She took it up In her hands and shook it. Yes, the keys are inside. Babette, I wish yon not to leave these rooms to-night until I come up to bed. I have dropped the key some where. I don't suppose it will be found until we have daylight to help us it Is so small. Have your supper sent up to you here." "Very good, mademoiselle." Babette stood with her hands held tightly over her heart, listening to the rustle of the silken skirts along the gal lery and down the stairs. Then her expression changed 'from strained atten tion to vivid triumph. She threw heT clasped hands high over her head. She locked both doors, closed one window to prevent the blinds from fluttering, and then unlocked the small bronze box. She laughed as she picked out a key from the bunch and tried to unlock Pauline's large desk. "At last!" she whispered, as the lock of the desk flew bad. (To ha rontlnned.) Just Resentment. "You say your beard began to grow when you wore 10," remarked the vis itor at the dime museum. "May I ask how long it has taken you to bring It to Its present magnificent propor tions?" ' , "Sir," said the Bearded Lady, justly incensed, "you are the first man that has ever dared to ask my age!" Cat cago Tribune, . Artful Dodger, ne Then I may hope? ' She Well, you may ask papa. He Impossible. She Why do you Bay that? ne Because I haven't been able to get light of him since I loaned him $10 before Chrlatma. 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The old farmer went to one end of the swaying coach to wash his bands. He could find only a few remnants of soap. "Boy," he druwled, "there don't seem to be much soup here?" "No, sah," chuckled the porter, "you know dls is de limited. Ebbythlng abohd am limited." Then the old man tried to fill a glnss from the water cooler. He could only force out a few drops. "Where's the water, boys?" "Not much water, sah. Dat am lim ited, too." Presently the porter brushed the old farmer down and the latter hand ed him nine coppers. "Why, boss," protested the porter, "yo' gib de porter on de udder train a quarter." "I know that," chuckled the old farmer, "but you know this Is the limited, and everything should be lim ited." Chicago News. No Ruben's Work. Mrs. Al de Mustahd And have you any paintings by Rubens? , , Mrs. Justin de Bunch Mercy, no! All our pictures are by the best ar tists. Mrs. A. de M. But Rubens Mrs. J. de B. Don't tell me. I nev er saw a rube yet that could paint Cleveland Leader. Restoring the Balance. "Wonderly has made a fortune in cot ton." "Yes, but according to his wife's dressmaker, he's fast losing it In silks." Detroit Free Press. Bought has borne the sisrna- Signature of Over 30 Years. Mima amtrr. new rami city.