Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 39, Number 98, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 August 1907 — A SMILING VILLAIN. [ARTICLE]

A SMILING VILLAIN.

By VIOLET M. FLINN.

CHAPTER I. ~ The -scheeL room- .wajs._4.he _.CT?®£ ' tog place of the Beresford family. IT was shabby to a degree; its chairs were Broken and its pictures askew; the table was usually covered with a miscellaneous assortment of books, tools, and garneats of ail sects and conditions; the earpet, in spite of Moyra’s efforts, contained foe the unwary; door Bandies had a pleasing habit of coming off —yet, in spite of all these disadvan-tages,in‘-sf>iio of the fact that there was a pretty and comfortable drawing room, al) the Bercsfords- -even the Rector himself— when the spirit of companionship seised them, gravitated as a matter of sparse to the school room, where soma aae was certain to be found la- the morning it was given uj» to Moyra. and in -it sitemade up her accounts, taught Lulu. and strove to lessen the ever-increasing pile of dilapidated garments. Moyra was the pretty eldest Miss Beresford, who had been her fat liar’s housekeeiter since Lulu had come into Ae world and her mother had gone from -Durisg-vaeationfr-Terry would often join her. Aili-en. who was at - Newnham. tooted With great scorn on Terry’s methad of working. She herself read diligrntlv. but not in the school room—The very look of the.room made h< r feel lazy, she Used to declare. On summer afternoons the school room whiter “the school room crew,” as Terry aaßcd them, were always twins, Gerald and Geraldine; pretty Bridget, who hovered on the confines of Ibc “crew" and the grown-ups, who was «su»< t.inc> woman, but oftener child, and the pride and anxiety of Mbyra’s hearrt rend small fairy-like Lulu, who, according to her eldest brother, "looked like an angel and behaved like the other thing”— an assertion indignantly repudiated by Moyra, whose love for her “baby" was *a . unbounded and as blind as mother tore.'

There were eight Beresfords in nil. but Patrick. who came between Aileen and Bride, was usually away, being a naval rab-lieutenatit. The Rev. Terrence Beresford wns Rector at Caterham West, and was possessed of private means as well •san extraordinary "pride"of - birth ;■ button t did not pr. vent times when Moyra's panderings over her account books were very harassing.' A long pedigree did not prevent plebeian appetites, and the family propensity wal noTTWards economy. It was not always easy for Moyra to manage the bills, so that Terry, Aileen and Patrick could go undisturbed through their various vottrses. Yet it never occurred to her to demur when one morning in .November, as she sat darning Gerry’s football stockings, her father entered the si bool room with an open letter in his hand and proposed the addition of another member to their family. “What <lo you mean?” Moyra asked, footing up into his handsome face as if abe thought ae had become demented. “Weil. my d ar. I've bad a letter from Alec Robertson you've often heard me apeak of him. We were at college together. but It- went abroad, and we lost eight of each other. ..Now he writes to me from South America, where be has married apparently. Tor he tells me his wife is dead and he has a son who is coming to England, and he asks me to give him a welcome. He does not mention bis agRTTne Rector continued, turning the flimsy sheets oyer. “Alec is sure to have marri-d late in life, so probably the boy- is .pt young. But you’d bettor read the letter.” Moyra did si. in silence. Her first guest ion when she had finished was hardfo relevant to the subject. “What does he mean about a loan?” Mr. Beresford flushed like a girl. “Oh. it was years ago. my dear—long before 1 was married! He was in low water, and 1 had just come of age. It was not much only about seven hundred. my dear. And, "you see, he remembers it.” “Yes. but he doesn't offer to pay It. I suppose he has never done so? We could do with it just now,” “Ah. well, we are not so badly off that It might not be worse—with all an Irishman's easy optimism. “I wonder whom he, married"—taking up the letter •gain.. “He used to be deeply attached to a cousin whose people forbade him the bouse. They were very strict Scots, and he was considered too much of a rolling atone, and so on. But he was not really a wrong-doer—he had only the faults of •verflowing Spirits and an impulsive reckWetness that used to make us say he would end in a palace or a workhouse. You see. he says he could not send the boy home before, so I’m afraid ha is not overburdened with wealth.” There was a pause. The Rector watched Moyra’s needle, but it is to be ques Honed if he really saw it. “If be left Buenos Ayres on the; first, be ought to be here soon." he continued. U I am going to town this afternoon, so I*ll call at the office and make inquiries •bout the lara. I suppose you'll be able to put him up, dear?” “I must. I suppose.” Moyra answered. smiling. 4 * “One boy more or less does not ■sake much difference." The Rector was not In for Inucheon, nd Moyra made no allusion to the comtag visitor. When the meal was over nd the twins had gone off to school again Moyra proposed that Bride should accompany her in some duty calls. But Bride shrank from the idea. The color rose in -her cheeks, and the black-lashed gray eyes— true Irish eyes, changeable nd beautiful as an Irish sky—gazed at bar sister imploringly. “Ah, no, Moyra! 1 bate paying calls. I aever know what to sayshe exclann- «£ “Too never will know unless you go sometimes." Moyra answered. A close observer might have noticed a deeper shadow in bcr eyes as they rested aa toe lovely young sister who was indeed wbat her father so fondly called her -—“the flower of the lock.” He was an talulgeut and loving father to them all.

but every one knew that it was Bride who had the warmest'torner in his heart.' TTc ivoutd often talk of-gi-v-i44-t4mn-a..£ca.-,„ son in town under the chapel wage of an old aunt known as Lady Sarah—he was intensely ambitious for his boys and girls. Moyra had at first thrown cold water on; his plans, but there'had been times lately when she" liaTf wish-fl that Bride was safe under Lady Sarah’s wing. Bride, with her lovely face, her childishness, herdawning womanhood, her absolute ignorance of the was a great responsibility to anxious, conscientious Moyra, who had to lie both sister and mother. “I really think '‘ou ought to go. Bride.” 'Tjet me goMnsteafl, Moyrii,” Lulu put in eagerly. "I love calling, and lal ways know what to say, and if you leave me at home I shall get into mischief”-I—her 1 —her eyes twinkling roguishly. was not yet seven, but she had probed her sister's nature to its depths. "Do take me with yon, sweetest dear,” she coaxed, "and I'll be so good! Then peojrfe will say. ‘What a dear little girl Lulu is I Khe_beli»ves so prettily. Really, it is marvelous how Moyra, so young herself, has acted a mother's part to that big family" That is what Mrs. Hay said to Mrs. I'hart er is at the lecture, and Mrs.“ Chart er is sniffed like this”—raising her head, wrinkling her nose, and sruffing wiHr pursed ifpsry ’ "Lulu, you really must not imitate people. Some dKy?voir*wlir<T6 it before them, ~ and that would be dreadful I” “Lovely, I think! But take me with you,, mammie dear! Doctor Bell said fresh air did me a great deal of good,” Lulu remarked casually, and the.day was •yrm ' 1 - CHAPTER 11. Catorhai® West was a large scattered place, purely residential, situated at the mouth of a large tidal river, the opposite bank of which was occupied by a wellknown seaport. Caterham itself was wholly given up to commerce. On the clearest day a murky cloud hung over it, and at night long lines of'lights marked the extent of its great docks. '• In the summer Caterham West was a favorite resort of excurshrniists, who, "however, confined themselves almost entirely to the pier and the far-stretching shore with its lighthouse and the antique fort that was supposed to be Caterham's defense in times of war. Lodging houses and refreshment rooms were abundant in Lower Caterham, but the higher reaches of the locality, stretching down to the sand hills beyond the trippers' resorts, were very exclusive, and many a“wealtby Caterham merchant had built his house on the side of the rounded hill and had no connection with the .lower town. In winter, when the restaurants and oyster saloons were closed and cards hung in every lodging house window, the Caterham residents considered the place their own; but in summer, like the Romans of old, they retired to their heights before the stream of Goths had poured across the broad river. Moyra’s visits passed off very-satisfac-torily, and the two "sisters were walking homeward in the gathering gloom, Lulu chatting briskly, when a loud voice hailed them by name, and a tall, awkward woman, very badly dressed, came up to them. "How do you do?” she exclaimed, in boisterous tones. “I'm going your way. That child wants plenty of eod liver oil, Moyra. She’ll be going off in a decline if you don’t take care.” "She’s stronger than she looks,” Moyra answered quietly. “What a nice day it has been —so near Christmas, too! I suppose you will help in the decorations as usual?” As a rule Miss Prior was ready and willing to talk of herself and her parochial work—she fondly believed that she was the only person who did any work in the parish; she could never have believed that she was a thorn in the flesh to both Rector and curates —but at that moment she was primed with news of another kind, and she let the allusions to the’decorations pass. "Have you heard that the Mount is taken at last?” she. demanded. "I thought you would not. _ My dear Moyra, it is your duty as the Rector's daughter to know all that is going on in the parish. Of course 1 know you depend upon me, but sunpose 1 was not here? You must grow accustomed to think and act for yourself. Yes, it is taken at last. I heard it from the baker, who got it from the agent. The people are coming in as soon as possible: there is an invalid who is coming for the air. They will be your near you must not know them"—dropping her voice mysteriously. "Of course the Rector will call, but you must not. They are undesirable people. It is really awful to think of that splendid place being in such hands. One really wonders if they will know the use of the various rooms. You must look after that Bride of yours”— with a meaning laugh. Moyra raised her head with quiet dignity. “What did you say was the name?” “Oh, er—Fenton ! Oh, yes—it is familiar enough !” —as Moyra repeated it musingly. “You see it everywhere—‘Fenton's blacking is the best.* They are the people.” “It is very good blacking.” Mias Prior sniffed. There was a faint giggle from Lulu, and Moyra mMc haste to change the subject. For Her pert she was not sorry that the big house which shared the long narrow avenue with the Rectory had at length found a tenant. She always felt sorry for the desolate look of the bouse, which was only visible from the Rectory when the trees were bare, yet was only divided from its garden by a sunk fence. They walked on to the gates of the avenue. Miss Prior complaining of the senior curate’s delinquencies and the lax management of the coal club. At the gate, however, she stopped abruptly and commanded lailu to run on as she wished to speak to Moyra privately. “I feel It my Christian duty, Moyra,"

; Miso Prior began solemnly, “Rr say tshsv I Believe me. I s;wak only for your good when I warn you against allowing any per-oaa 1 -sentimont to override y-our knowledge of what is your duty." "What do you mean, Miss Prior?” “Come, come, my d'ear, there is no not'd to lose your temper! lam speaking as your friend. Bertram Ckar|erU~ is very fascinating, I dare say—although -you arc not so young as when he was last at home. You must not allow yourself to be carried away- ” She paused rather abruptly. She fancied that Moyra was laughing. Her voice certainly shook as she replied, and the reply did not satisfy her hearer. It savored of double meaning, Miss Trior "fancied;— - “You may be quite sure I shall always act according to my convictions. Miss Prior.” , ' 1 “What did Miss Prior mean by talking about -Bertram as she did?” Lqlu .asked curiously, as they entered the avenue. —And why should she warn you? I think Bertram is awfully nice!” —-in her most grown-up voice. “So does Bride. Bertram wants to paint Bride's portrait. Oh, see —Hammond is lighting the ga's in the school room !” "I’ll race you to the door,” Moyra said quickly ; and away the two wcht. Luluwks an easy wrancr and dashed off directly to the school room when they entered the house. Moyra, pausing to open some letters in the hall, heard her exclaim sudd. i.las she entered the school room. “Who is here?” Moyra demanded, almost sharply, as the housemaid passed her with tin- t«-a tldti-.s. "1 said Wot at home,’ Hammond?’ — “Yes’rii, but he went past the school room window,- and he saw Miss Bride, and she let him in." For a second Moyra hesitated, and than moved siowly to theschoolrooin,CHAPTER 111. “Now, here is Moyra with vengeance in—her—exeJWsaid. a laughing, careless voice. “As you are strong, be merciful, Moyra. I ought not to have eorpe, I know, but I am always doing what I ought not to do.” The school room looked the picture of comfort, and so did Bertram Gharteris as he lounged in the rasiret armchair,, with Bride opposite to him. smiling happily.* She met tier sister’s eyes with a frank smile, utterly unconscious of having done anything wrong. Moyra sighed her gloves and sat down at the tea table. She made only the briefest reply to Bertram's nonsense. ; . > "Go and tell father that tea is ready,” she said, ns Hammond brought in the tea kettle. Bride rose obediently—she never dreamed of doing otherwise—while 1 Lulu.'attracted by a clfange in ljertrani's attire,: began to chatter volubly. "Another new suit!" she cried. “It’s very pretty, isn't it? I am afraid you’re like Terry—he's very extravagant with his clothes, Moyra says. Moyra ami I .have been paying calls- —an awful fag sometimes, but it has to be done. We met Miss Prior, but we didn't go to see her, Moyra wanted Bride to go, but she wouldn’t. It was fortunate she wasn’t out when you came, wasn't it?" “Moyra doesn't think so.” Bertram answered, looking at the elder sister with gentle reproach. "I am always vexing Moyra. lam very unfortunate. She i» always cross with me.’.’ "Mammie is never cross with any one,’’ Lulu said loyally, "unlesp they deserve it. So, if she is cross with you, you have done something naughty—that is why." There was an awkward pause; Moyra’s face crimsoned, and the color rose in Chatteris’ cheeks. It was a relief to both when the door opened and the rest of the family appeared, bringing in with them a different atmosphere and new topics of conversation. (To be continued.)