Jasper County Democrat, Volume 3, Number 13, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 July 1900 — Captain Brabazon [ARTICLE]

Captain Brabazon

BY B. M. CROKER

JI ./li li tar»y - . of. Jou fpieA

CHAPTER XXII.-(Continued.) Hew the tidings were broken to Mrs. Brahe son we need not linger to relate; far so pen could give the faintest idea •f that lady's indignant incredulity in the ..fast phase, wild, incoherent invective in the second, and hysterical, weeping and of Florian’s inhuman in<ratitade in the third and last scene. She weat about, her handkerchief applied to her eyes, a model of injured innocence, ar poking as a melancholy representation «f fallen greatness. She wrote reams of IMtera and made many farewell calls in (the neighborhood—good naturedly taking her sequaiotances into her confidence as regarded her opinion of the bride-elect—-and she left not a few directions to Esme «f a distinctly testarfientary nature. Indeed. Mte would imagine, from the way ahe bare herself, that once she had shakes the dust of Baronsford from oft her feet, its downfall was a mere question of Mrs. Brabazon had a large, really surprising amount of baggage; trunk and «aae, and case and trunk, were filled and mailed down day by day; and certainly the rhtnu and curios about the house bee Mae smaller by degrees, and beautifully rtos, as these packages increased in number and size. Ome morning Esme fetched her aunt mputairs to the big spare room in which Nokes and her mistress had been closeted amce breakfast time. They simultanealtered an exclamation of hasty anmoyaace as Esme slowly pushed back the 4eor against a pile of books and stuffs «a the door, and admitted Miss Jane. “Now, now, Miss Esme, just please to look where you are going,” said Nokes, tartly; and indeed, she had need to do so. Also her aunt, who stepped nimbly over all obstacles and stared about her with a face of undisguised amazement. The carpet was littered with lace, house linen, knick-knacks and old china, and the bed was spread from top to bottom with famRy silver, punch bowls, teapots, cream Jugs, marrow spoons, snucc ladles, snuffboxes, candlesticks—nothing hnd been too taaSgalficaot to escape notice. The dresstug table was loaded with piles of old braeade and needlework, and three greedy looking big trunks yawned openmsutbed in the middle of the room—ready do swallow those treasures. Before one •f these boxes Mrs. Brabazon was kneel‘Good morning, Sara.” said her sister-Mo-law, briskly. “Busy, I see. as usual. 1 jnst came up to ask if 1 could help you fa any way?” “No. bo, thanks, I can manage very well by myself with Nokes,” looking greatly put out, as she spoke, and scuffing away some articles out of sight. “I jn-ver can pack if I am watched; it puts juf oat altogether. Here," closing the Id with a bang. ‘Til co£,i>«»<refn with y m, Jane.” rtl .- -»Ht. «’*reb jyoj are not packing these Bara? You nre only put- ' Sng them away, and I can do that for you, you know,” said the old lady, still baagiag back. “Putting them by? No, I’m packing them up to take away,” now driven to buy. “they are my own property." “Good gracious, Sara! what do you mean? Is not that my grandmother's posset bowl that Nokes baa in her hand?” •he asked, with an air of pious surprise. “There must be some monstrous mistake hi your packing up family silver, lace, a*en and china.” “No mistake at all! Everything in the room is mine,” waving her band dramatically toward the floor, the bed and the dreaafug table, resolved to put down Miss Jane, as she hnd ever been wont to do. “My dear husband gave me all," she added, with a kind of sniff, that might mean either defiance or a tribute to his tnem•ry. But these were heirlooms; and for once the old lady was firm. “He could not give yon what never was W, Sara. They are heirlooms; they beto his children, and children’s children. This must be seen to. I’m really Mteumbed that you do not see the mistake yourself,” stiffening visibly as she Mrs Brabazon failed to see any mistake; and her instincts of rapacity and Pfander extinguished everything else in her bosom— even ordinary prudence. Each lady stoutly maintained her own opinion, and the result was a very pretty quarrel. to which Esme nnd Nokes were the two speechless seconds. Mr*. Brabazon figuratively bounded into the arena, and let herself go for once; •to so far forgot herself as to call Miss Jane a “miserly old sneak," and a "meddieoorrx- old cat;” and the latter, without daaceuding to such vulgar expressions, tatak* some very telling hits, and managed to have her say In a collected and imyresmve manner; and, In the end, by a •lever maneuver, concluded the battle by tocinag up the room and carrying off the key. which, needless to say, was tantataoust to capturing her enemy's colors sal cans; and as she departed, key In packet, aha sternly annoanced that it waa Bar immediate intention to puinmon the faaoDy lawyer. The family lawyer duly arrived the •aatt fay, and went into the matter of the fate Mr. Brabazon's will and personality, wat faaad not a few loop holes and flaws. It appeared that Mrs. Brabazon had so far overstepped her rights that Florian •as fas sister's legal guardian, am) that .she lady had for years been trading on rto jgaorance and innocence of her stepihMrsa. and regularly pocketing the into wist of Esme’a little fortune. Half the modern silver widow's share; bat Of linen, plate, lace and china there waa ao mention. A very solemn scene waa enacted in the dining room when the aflvev waa divided, and weighed under the •you of the lawyer, a ailversmith, Misa (lassr, Gussie, Kame and Nokes. Mrs. Bnsbauon. cold and trembling, stood very •toae to the acal«a,.wlth an air of tragic ■rataat. She considered that ahe waa be-

ing shamefully robbed. Still she made it a point to grasp what she could from the wreck of her property; and once, when her share in the balance was half an ounce lighter than Florian's, she fiercely Insisted on her due—her half-ounce—and to that end wrested a spoon out of a mustard pot, with her own quivering, claw like fingers. On the whole, this division of the spoil was harmoniously conducted, for Miss Jane and her nieces preserved throughout the ceremony a reserved air and prudential silence. --■=== No one was sorry when Mrs. Brabazon departed. . Au she stopped into the brougham, and was promptly whirled away she vowed many, many vengeances on Florian and that little serpent, his future bride. However, there were crumbs of comfort—very solid, pleasant crumbs —ln the shape of safe investments iri the three per cents: so let no one commiserate her as sheds most cheerfully driven to the station—and thus passes out of the story. CHAPTER XXIII. Florian is a married man! Hatty Clipperton reigns boisterously at Baronsford, and Esme has been spending a season in town, and has really seen the great world at last, has become alive to the fact that she is considered “one of the beauties,” and has had several “unexceptionable” offers. It is a very warm and almost tropical afternoon near the end of June, and she and Gussie are alone in Gussie’s little front drawing room, which is crowded with flowers; in banks between the windows, in the gate, on the chimneypiece, and on every available bracket, shelf and table. The windows are open, the rose-colored blinds are half drawn down, yet the atmosphere is oppressive and stifling. Both the sisters are dressed in white, Gussie with mauve ribbons and Esme with black; the former is stretched out on the sofa in an attitude of complete physical prostration. “1 have been thinking. Esme,” she observed at last, “thinking seriously about you, and I have come to the conclusion that you are an idiot!” fanning away briskly as she spoke. “I, don’t mean a candidate for an asylum, quite, but simply that you have an unusual deficiency—of sense.” “I'm sure I am greatly obliged to yon,” rejoined Ithe othqr, looking up with a smile. “May I ask why you think I have no sense?” ’

“Certainly, you may ask. Because here you are refusing to make hay while the sun shines; obstinately declining offer after offer. There was,” now rapidly counting on her fingers, "Foster Forbes, Sir .David Campbell, young Galloway, all sent to the right about. Pray,” sarcastically, “what do you expect—a duke?” "No,” with curt decision. ... season Is Setting Tin, and you have been considered quite one of the belles, and yet you are not engaged,” grumbled Gussie, aggrievcdly. "What is the good of having a pretty sister, and everyone making a fuss about her, when she will not take any advantage of her opportunities? You are enough to provoke a saint!” “Which you nre not." returned her companion, with more truth than courtesy. “I wonder you are not tired of the subject, Gits; I am. I have told you at least fifty times that I do not wish to marry. I mean to take a IcaT out of Aunt Jane’s book. It is not penal to prefer single blessedness. 1 intend to be a very nice old maiden lady.” “An old maid!” disdainfully. "A likely tale; but,” angrily, “I know why you talk like this. I believe you have still a liking for Miles; you infatuated young woman! Miles was good-looking and gentlemanly—l give you that in. Yes, yes,” half sitting up, and gazing keenly at her sister; “you need not' speak, your face is sufficient. Positively, I could light a candle at it, I do assure you! Ah, 1 see that it is still Miles. And 1 must say I wonder you have not more pride; even if he would marry you, to marry him would be madness. For instance, you know that I am very fond of Fred; but, all the same, if he had not been well endowed with this world’s goods, 1 would not have married him.” “It is quite superfluous to mention that," rejoined her sister, sharply. "Now, don’t be cross, Esme. I’m only doing my duty, and it is really most unselfish of me to put these things plainly before you, for I would much rather you remained single, and a companion for me. But when I see Craven Hepburn and twenty-five thousand a year actually begging of you to take them I feel that I must speak.” “Well, now you have done your duty, and relieved your conscience, I will testify to the fact to all inquiring friends,” said Esme, impatiently, "and let us hear no more about it. Never mind my love affairs, Gussie. What about going to the Bohuns* thia evening? it's too hot, isn’t it?” coaxingly. “Oh!” fanning fast, “one may Just as well be hot there, where one is amused, as here, where there’s nothing to do. We will go, of course," with decision. Mrs. Vashon wjts a little lady who lived on excitement, and was never happy unless she was flying from one entertainment to another. Her appetite for conatant amusement waa insatiable, and the same spirit which prompted her to run down and play tennis at the Bells', to walk into By ford, to volunteer for bazaars, children's parties, and school feasts —anything for a change, anything for novelty—was the same that now impelled her to one continual round of dances, theatricals, flower fetes, races and dinner parties. If she hnd one day, one afternoon even, with “nothing on hand,”, she was a miserable woman. She waa never exhausted, never satisfied. No sooner was one great event over than ahe was thinking of another; and the suggestion that “they should stay at home for once and have a quiet evening,” she looked upon as simply a monstrous absurdity. She was not, she frankly stated, over aud

abc”» fo.id »»f the domestic hearth! “Tima / enough when she ami Fred were old oddities in speetacies and slpipers.” Leaving Gussie ruminating over her wardrobe with all the power of her shifty little brain, and Esme casting anxiously about for some good excuse to remain at home, we turn once more to Miles and his friend Captain Gee. The latter has been in England for six months on medical certificate, basking nnd butterflying in ladies’-society, not only in his native north, but in the larger? pleasanter pastures of the great metropolis. He does not look much of the Junior Army and Navy in the wake of his friend Miles— Miles, who only landed from South Africa within the last twelve hours. It is. nearly two years since he last stood in the dining room of the club; two dreary years spent on Afric’s sunny strand, struggling to make the best of a dull, monotonous existence, endeavoring, with all his might, to forget what “might have been,” and yet dreading every newspaper he took up, every letter he opened, to see the announcement of his cousin Esme’s marriage. Of course, she would marry! From words ignorantly let fail by his brother officers lately *from home, from copious descriptions from Annie, he was fully alive to the fact that Miss Brabazon was no longer a mere pretty little country flower, born to blush unseen; but that all through the full, fierce light Of a London summer, she had ranked as one of the season's beauties.

It was by no wish of his own that he found himself in London. He had been sent home, at two days’ notice, in charge of invalids, and had only had time to telegraph to Dicky from St. Vincent. He found that gentleman eagerly awaiting him at Southampton, ready to welcome him the moiqent the gangway was out. The two friends journeyed up to London. ami of course dined at the club together, sitting n long time over their meal nnd talking any amount of “shop,” for Captain Gee was greedy of regimental news. When he had severely cross-exam-ined his companion down to the personal appearance of the latest, he suddenly said in the most matter-of-fact manner, but looking askance under his white eyelashes: "By the way, Miles. I’m going to take you to a party to-night." Miles merely stared at bis friend for some seconds with lazy amusement, and then said, as he deliberately helped himself to cheese, “Not if I know it, old man.” “Oh, come, you know; none of your nonsense. You must come to oblige me.” "And why? What is the special attraction?” “I promised Mrs. De Montmorency Bohun to g-o. to be sure, and put in an appearance, and I could not disappoint her,” with conscious importance. "Bosh, my good sir; she’ll never miss you,” said his companion, discouragingly. “She will never know whether you were there or not. I’m afraid you are getting that red head'of yours turned.” "I promised to go and bring a friend,” proceeded Dicky, firmly—“to bring a friend. You are the friend,” with a pompous sweep of his hand. “Am 1?” ironically. "I rather fancy that by the time you are fighting your way into this good lady’s drawing room I shall be in bed.” "I have invested in two of the most touching buttonholes in London, and I’m not going to have yours wasted,” return-’ ed the other, coolly ignoring his friend’s remark. “It would if we did "spemT'the first evening together, eb? And, strictly between yoq and me, there’s a little girt I particularly wish you to see.” "Meaning the future Mrs. Gee?” expressively. “I’m not sure,” grinning; “anyway, she does not stand half a bad chance.” “But can you not manage to present me some other time? Why not to-morrow?” feebly. “You know bow I loathe parties.” “You won’t loath this one, I’ll go bail. You’ll come? You must come.” “Well,” irritably, “I suppose I must; but, mind you. I’ll only look iu for half an hour. Remember, I’m not as keen a society man as you are, and I’m only going to oblige you.” Within five minutes of midnight we discover the two gentlemen leisurely winding their way up Mrs. Bohun’s tsaircase. (To be continued.)