Life — December 4, 1897 — page 5: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A second later I was hurrying up- stairs, a plan of action already evolved. The sound of a piano told me she was in the music-room, and I stopped a moment before entering to recover an equanimity that had been perilously near destruc tion, She looked up and ceased play ing as I went toward her, something in my face telling tale of the unusual. I handed her Dacier’s note, which she took, questioning me with upraised brows. ‘‘I have read it,” I said, coldly, watching closely for signs of remorseful collapse, and ready to take advantage of it with a forceful talk on the improprie- ties. But she threw me off my guard by taking an entirely different line. She flushed a furious crimson, but her eyes met mine unflinchingly as she steadied herself slightly against the keyboard. “Tow dared you !” she said, in a low voice. ‘Have you forgotten, or did you never know that a letter is a pri- vate thing—sacred—or supposed to be sacred—from the most prying 2” Her looks fairly scorched me, and I should have wilted but for the righteous- ness of my cause. “The propriety of my actions is not to be discussed,” I answered, quickly. “You are under my guardianship, Iam responsible for you, and as long as Iam you shall commit no such folly as you propose. “You seem to forget,” she answered, coolly, her composure really staggering me, “that, being eighteen years old, Tam legally my own guardian. Where could the child have learned such odious details? thought I ‘And you really intend to keep this—this ap. pointment?” Lasked. “Most certainly Ido,” she answered “Oh, Margy!” [ cried, “how could you—how could youdo it? Where was your self-respect—your pride? Oh, it’s terrible!” “There is no use of your g hysterics, Sally. just as—as—”" “As what?” [ questioned, blankly. ‘*As unconventional,” she answered, “When?” gasped I. “Before you were married to Tim.” “Mi ret Towneshe “You did," Could this determined girl there before me be the little yesterday ? ing into You have done things he said, standing ster of Was I in dreamland? If so, the awakenin was a rude one. * LIFE: “Have you asked, coldly. It took me a moment to gather to- ther the scattered ends of my thoughts. You are determined to go?” * Quite, me the answer, quickly. I stood for a moment, feeling rather numbed and helpless, but like a flash it came to me. I stepped quickly across the room and pulled the bellcord, she watching my every movement curiously and intently, I glanced at the little clock on the mantel-shelf; it showed but a quarter past twelve; and then Thom- son entered in answer to my summons. “Did you ring, ma’am “Yes, Thomson. Telephone to the stable for the hansom.” “For what time, ma’am?” “At once.” “Yes, ma'am. Will you be home to luncheon, Mrs. Appleton?” “No.” The door shut softly behind him, and not a second later she was standing be- fore me, eyes blazing, throat heaving. “Where going?” she de- manded, with almost an air of tragedy. “To luncheon, with Mr. Cyril Dacier,” L answered. quite finished?” she are you It was with something of the high courage of a martyr that [ alighted and walked up the steps, through the corri- dor, and into the cool, tiled garden-room, I must confess that three thicknesses of veiling added to my bravery as I glanced around through the doorway; but aside from that I was:filled with the elation of high purpose. This libertine Dacier should know the sting of an honest wo- man’s tongue; unmasked, his infamy laid bare to scorn, he would taste the bitterness of my contempt. The more I thought of his ridiculous discomfiture that was to be, the more my mood be- came almost joyous; and then, from be- hind a huge carthern urn, he appeared and stood before me Of course L recognized him, for I had scen him a dozen times behind the foot- lights, and one was forced to run the gauntlet of his pictures at every step on the avenue; but I was unprepared for the dignified, well-bred-looking man who was speaking to me ina voice that came as an echo of some past conversation, with such a Mephistophelian art did he conceal his real character. ‘If this is Miss Towneshend,” he was 481 saying, while his gray eyes, with some peculiar penetrative quality, seemed to pierce the triple thickness of my veil, “I have already secured a table, and lunch- eon is ready to be served. I bowed my head in assent, and turn- ing, he led the way to a little nook at the left of the entrance, hidden from the rest of the room by the urn from behind ich he had appeared. Le seated me with a quiet courtesy that was almost deference, but L was conscious all the time of his quick, curious scrutiny, and I felt that every detail about me, from feathered tip to booted toe, was in his possession as he took his place opposite me, A course or two slipped by to the briefest monosyllabic accompaniment, I lying in wait, he evidently “sparring for an opening,” as Tim would say. He was clearly puzzled and chagrined, for Thad lifted the veil but a trifle above my mouth, and so possessed the discon- certing power of seeing and not being seen—a strong prop to assurance. It came at last, however, “It is simply beyond belief,” he said, after a somewhat longer pause than usual, “What?” questioned I, on the alert. “That a young girl, as well bred as you evidently are, should be lunching alone in a public restaurant with a man of whom you know nothing, literally nothing, and whose acquaintance you have made by—what shall we call it, rather unconventional means ?” Ie drawied the question at me, and watched for its effect from between nar- rowed lids, giving me a hidcous the awful position Lwas in. My twitched at the tablecloth, and I could feel the hot crimson sting in my cheeks, but [ controlled myself. «You are as impertinent as you are un- principled,” I managed to say, coolly. “T thought you'd beangry—your lips and hands are sensitive,” he rejoined, with an inscrutable little smile, and then went “you'll probably be angry when you have heard me out.” He leaned forward toward me, his arms resting on the table in front of him, and L braced myself for defense, preparatory to vigorous assault. “When Laccepted your invitation to a téte-d-téte luncheon (when he accepted my invitation to luncheon! Oh, couldn't Ihave boxed the shameless Margaret's nse of hands on: more comicbooks.com