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Show j . I A-BATCH Of LOVE LETTERS. ' ' K ' I $ The Post Prom the Woods to tho Cnstlo. ! I I BY SIB WILLIAM MAG2TAY, BT. I i I (Author of "Tho Red Chancellor," "Count 1 j I Zarka," "A Prlnco of Lovora," etc.) I !ti I yO. 1. From Richard Conroy, the I I 'A Caravan, In Yarpolo Woods, to I j, 1 1 Miss Violet Guffton, Yarpolo Cas- I jj I it tie, Wycshlre. I , ji S My Darling VI, I 'j IB You will1 bo astonished and, I I j! fff hope, clad, when you open this to find I .i'B thnt 1 snu.cIy ensconccd within a I I1 1 B ctone'6 throw of your prison. It may I 'III wt also surprise you to hear that I am a j, traveling artist, roaminir In my cam- 'J! M van In pursuit o tho beautiful that's '. ? m you. But I flatter myself you will not , j H liavo thought It likely, after that dcll- L ' 1 clous hour nmonir tho palms In Mra , , 1 Mounthenry's conservatory, that I j3 should calmly allow you to bo torn , lj '( from me by your ambitious and busl- Jj 1 V ness-llke parents, without making an 13 B effort to follow you, and circumvent 'M I their drastic plan of keeping you safe j;J E for the candidate out of Dcbrett by j; ? shutting you up in an out-of-the-way jm Btronghold, like Yarpole Cactle. For a. M man, like your father, who prides hlm-nelf hlm-nelf on being quite up-to-date, to avail j; tfjn himself of such a mediaeval method of ; I coercion ocems absurd. But there you I jH are, and here I am under tho shadow ij f of your flagstaff. I am so Gorry foi ' IB you, dearest, that you have to endure 1 j m the boredom of a dull, If magnificent, (IS .castle for my sake. What a pity it was iiflH that your mother came upon us so In- Plfll opportunely In tho conservatory that, 1 ' night! It only shews that It does not , 1, IS do to put too much trust In palm leaves, i ' ;,W Rhododendrons In tubs may be a delu- jtlH nion and a snare. It was all that last ,' kiss. If you had only said 'yes' sooner, i 1 we mlht not have been missing so long. I-IS But there, I am not going to hlamo you ' j IJ for making me so happy. I am only jjjU wondering when our next meeting will 1 1 3 be. I doubt If the most suspicious of f ' m npthera will look for the detrimental j$r in a gypsy's caravan. I shall find a '.') 'i' trusty messenger, who Is not above a ' k J bribe, to give you this, and then, when j j I know It has reached you, shall be ever ifj H on the look-out for a sight of my dar- ;s, 3ing clrl. Do write and tell me evcry- j' 'thing that has happened since wo were , i 4' torn apart. Ji j With a thousand klsaes, J V Your loving I ?, J Dick. h .1 No. 2. From Miss Violet GufTtoiv Yar- i pole Castle, to Richard Conroy, Esq., i)i 1. the Caravan. Yarpole Woods. Ml My Dearest Dick, ;! You were right. Your letter ' ! l did surprise me, but less than thcjiews i ''';!& of your extraordinary habitat. What a ; ' j .' dear, clever fellow you are to think of following me In that fashion! It was a i y '. positive stroke of genius. I am sure ' jj)- neither mother nor father (who cornea i 1 - down tomorrow with the "arrange- ; Us ment," Lord Che.sslngton) will ever I j j think of looking for you In a caravan. j ; ft'. They simply detest gypsies, 03 human ) Vttj, examples of rolling stones that gather ,fM no moss that is, money. Fancy your Ji,i turning artist for my sake, too! There p Is no danger of father wanting to buy H your pictures, as he never looks at the ft , ! work of ianyone under an R. A. Oh, K. (j Dick, It Is so dull In this tiresome old R -jrj castle, but so nice to know that you are u , near. I shall begin to love the gaudy g Mi1 flaunting flag now that I know you can 1 A 'j see It. I used to hate It as a llapylng 1 mockery of durance vile. Now, Dick j jUfi dearest, I have come to tho conclusion y' that it won't do for us after this to en- y trust our letters to third parties. Knox V 'ill" is not a bad sort, and she dresses hair I .; beautifully, but when It comes to brib- i j ; cry she is. like all her tribe, simply the j ' ; 4 slave of the highest bidder, and I don't i think you could hope to beat at that ,j '1 business. I suitpose hair-dressing, like 1 1 j the other arts, has a somewhat demor- j allzing tendency; anyhow, I don't trust I ' Knox; she Is a perfect colffeusc, even h ' i 1 j to the regulation love of scandal. So I i j ; j have found a letter-box. At the end of v the shrubbery beyond the kitchen gar- v V i do" Is an old sun-dial. The atone slab r i, 'fi Is loose, and a note can be easily slipped , under IL I will post mine In my soli- tary walks with Muff, but you must not 'X 'r venture there till after dark; for p .M'' mother, after the episode of the conser- ; i vatory. has developed a most abnormal X state of suspicion, and everyone here - ), j I seems on the qui vlve. So take care. j. Ever your I-; S. I quite agree wltl you about t H 1 Ji! 1 conservatories and palms; still we must i , jt, i risk something. The leaves are large I Pill , 1 a"d after all, why did Mrs. Mounthenry H 'j f put seats among them, If people were I BH j ; . not meant to sit there? V. ,, '. No. 3. From Richard Conroy to Miss S 1IH ' ; Violet Guffton. ; BH if My Darling VI, ,';? , . So delighted to get your sweet j , , .r; ! letter, and to find j-ou have not re- , pented, or been dazzled by the threat- A ' ened "Arrangement" How I should t J , jj.' "ke t0 na-vo tho arranging of him. I l BVJB 1' If am getting on all right, although last I BBBMJ ! nights thunderstorm was rather try- BBBH , ' Ing. These caravans do not seoin cal- S BBBBJ ,:., dilated to stand heavy rain. After BBBH , J." ! about twenty minutes' soaking tho roof W ,' h 'begins to leak inside. I spent most of V BBBBJ )' , the night dodging the drips. Eut you K BBBBJ 1 I .(j t know, darling, I am ever ready to go ft BBBBJ 1 1 ; HI through not only water but fire as well K BBBBJ ior you I am so glad about tho post- E BBBBJ I ' office; it is safer, not to say cheaper. 1 BBBBJ , ( ,; jjV. Yesterday, after an unrewarded search W if M i for a Rlinipse of the beautiful In the hu- ft BBBBff f form divine (you know whom I fc BBBW ; jf; m?,:tn was orced to content myself g BBBB wHh the merely picturesque In land- I? BBBBJ W V scape. I put up my easel, and set to BBBBJ 'IJ!.' work on an old farmhouse. I am ofrald P BBBH . Ji,.', It was a poor business; I did not seem ft BBBBJ ' to set the colors right; my tree3 are BBBJJ ,1 II If; arsenlcally green, my golden corn looks K BBBBJ J li Ke mufjtard, my purling stream like ;3 BBBBJ - A nK''- 'ny haystacks resemble tinned M BBBBJ li'il loaves, my farmhouse seems suffering w l mi from the early symptoms of an oarth- M q,uck0- tntl m? cato look as though ?J BH I'Pr'i fy come Btralht from a Noah's I , ' li; K . arl:- 11 is Perhaps an unfortunate tern- i BBBJ mT P2rary nrofesslon for mo to have s BBBJ ft,, h05C"' an-T slt In constant horrible k H ml, fear Khat ,the fraud wln De uiscovered? fc BH I ! Lnnri f,my we,ar,nff a erreen shirt, f BH 'B '. i ??ret neckl,e. velveteen Jacket artls- I 1 Mil- tlcally smudged with ultramarine paint SHI i' ; and slouch hat.. One of your father'4 B BH I i3 bailiffs carno and looked over my shouf- fi BH m Lnt my,erf?rt. ending cold shivers ml ?w"t my ,bafk'and upsetting me 80 t BBl llfa h lat II'ashed In the sky with green. H BH t ffi P 'Hum!" he said at last gruffly, "pfcture s Mi. , S?,youT' murmured, and he took the ? ! : ,: ?tniuISC!ItUr? I.8h.al1 try tne I'nprcs- g BBBBJ V s onlBt style. It Is lesrs liable to crltl- t BBBH clsm by the untutored. I am long ng i BBBBJ irjjt:, for news of you again, dearest. I saw h BH ml' the carriage return from the station g BBBB doiiblleas with my rival Inside, and the? BBS J , Bight made me madly Jealous for quite E :j a".nhur,' 1 told myself that my BH i'h eet Klrl was staunch nnfl conHt g BBBBI : ; and that I need not fear. Db tell me fe BBBM , so yourself! I am longing for the dark- a ness to cover my expedition to the post-office; post-office; thai way Is lighted with love. A million kisses. For ever your loving . I DIclc. iso. , From Miss Violet Guffton to Richard Conroy. My DMroji Dlok. , , , you need not fear. You ore right. Chcsslngton, tho "Arrangement, "Arrange-ment, has arrived, and If my con-fi con-fi icC:nTore ,nc,,ned to wobble (which it Isn t) ho would never shake it. Such a0nViCak"ltl,ced I,ttlc creature. I, can't : -m.n..m.a": with beady brown eyes. and an uncomfortably punctilious manner, man-ner, as though ho were constnntly on the verge of being shocked. I suppose It Is Intended to bo aristocratic,' but It strikes me as being very silly. When ono tolls him anything he says, "Aow really V" and gops on eating his dinner, as though that was all the Interest he could afford to show. Once when father fath-er unfortunately mispronounced a word (you know he went into business at on ago when most boys are at school), I thought Lord C. would have fainted. Ho only got as far aa "Aow' that time, and clanced round to see where - the door was I really thjnk I shall drop my li's when T tolk to hlrn. and assume a Cockney twang; it would be ouch fun to see him struggling between disgust and the desire to pay his debts by mar-I mar-I rylng me, which I vow he never shall. Horrid little snob! Ho Is always trotting trot-ting out Lady Mary, and the Dowager, and tho dear Duchess and the poor Duke, and ovorythlng father shown him reminds him of something bettor at Wratsworth, or Rundobin, or Padmin-ton. Padmin-ton. or Shugbrook. Mother la duly impressed; im-pressed; but I feel Itching to throw o peach at his head, and tell him to shut up. One thing Is qulto certain; I won't marry him, so there, you Jaaloua old Impressionist, tako cony'ort. J shall post this early before Ohes3lngton Is up, so good-night and lovo and ever so many kisses; don't you wish you may get them! VI. P. S. Don't destroy that remarkable picture of yours. Wo will have It framed, and hung in our house one of theso days. VI. No. C. From Richard Conroy. My own Vi, , You are a darling! Your letter wos such a delight. Of courae. I never expected Lord C. would take you from me. but one nr-vor knows: and, after all. a peer Is a peer, even If he la rath- cr less than a man. I had rather an uncomfortablo five minutes today. I was at work In tho woods, smudging away at an impressionist oxporlment, when vhom should I seo coming towards to-wards me but Mr. Guffton. In a moment mo-ment I had whipped out and stuck on an artistic false mustache, which I carry against ouch contingencies. (I don't wear It habitually bocauso It makes me sneeze, and the stuff that fastens It on smells like stalo gluo and rancid pomatum). I turned up my collar col-lar and pulled my Fenian hot over my syce, pretending to paint furiously. He came up and looked. There wasn't much to see: a wash of brown sky and a few daub? of Impossible color representing repre-senting nothing In this world "What In the name of canity Is that suppose ' to ba?" ho asked, after looking at it fo-a fo-a while. "It Is going," I Bald, gruftlj but with dignity, "to be an Impression 1st sketch?" "What of?" he demanded "A mud embankment with colored shirts hanging out to dry? I don r notice no-tice anything of that sort here. No, I replied boldly, "when (ho picture 1b finished will ho the proper tiino for criticism crit-icism These are n "cy the hrol washes." "Oh, indeed," he said. Ruin thing art, eh?" "Vory," I Paid, and to my relief ho walked off dlsgustod. I was no excited by my narrow eacapo that I forgot to pull off my fftle mus-toche, mus-toche, and as luck would have It, tho bailiff of yestorday came along. I saw him looking at me curiously. "You must have some wonderful good Ptulr for ralBlng hair, mister," ho remarked; "wish you'd give mo the name of It. my thatch is thinning." Wasn't it awful? aw-ful? I'm afraid It Is all over with my stay here. VI, darling, what Is to be lone? There Is nothing now. but to tako our courago In both hands and make a dash for happlnam Dftrling, tell me if you are ready for this. I shall bo miserable till t . 1 To think that he can bSJR you all through the day ?,na tVjr ovoiucet a glimpse of rnT nhi!i lSif With an eternliTofll. No. 6 From Mian viS 1A .1 L Richard Conroy. Ict QJf My dearost boy, WF What an abaura Vi tho mustache! How counlhtr UIV thoughtless? Well, the" out yeu Anyhow' fathlV taS far. Now, for my news QTU wMU Chcsslngton proposed t. Ttt tiMl.-. ly all arranged. We ' w i SMffi Hard-room after dinner as Lord C. and I Wer f U game of 100 up, mother lni$ Bl' denly made some- rldlculon. lhtfwlfii left us alone. Then it eSLSIfc not feel savage. Dick dear vlSK when an Impoverished Dt.: o fcKf! atch of Love Letters. (Continued from page 12.) a rich man's daughter there is no need of palm leaves, etc It might happen In the street, and nobody would guess the subject of conversation was more romantlo than the weather. There is no suggestion of love. It is an arrangement, ar-rangement, a bargain. I had Just pocketed pock-eted the red, and pretended to be desperately des-perately keen on the game, though I knew what was coming, when, Instead of spotting It for me, he said suddenly 'Ah, Miss Guffton. I vote we marry. There's a proposal for you' I slmplj laughed at him. "Marry?" I said, "Why should we?" "Because," he answered, an-swered, "It would be quite a sensible thing to do." "But," I argued, "I don't care for you." "That doesn't matter," he replied. "Wo shall like 'one anotner well enough, and I -shall be charmed to make you Lady Chesslngton!" "It Is no doubt a great honor," I said sarcastically, sarcas-tically, "but I'm sorry I cannot accept It." "Why in the world not?" he demanded, de-manded, twisting" his apoiogy for a mustache. "Because I don't tnvo you," I explained. "Oh, that's nonsense." he objected; "you don't aeem to realize what a splendid thing it would bes for you. Look at the position you would occupy as Lady Chesslngton; tho historical his-torical Chesslngton rubles would become be-come you. magnificently." Ho was'go-Ing was'go-Ing on ln quite a businesslike way with the catalogue of advantages, when I cut him short. "Look here, Lord Chesslngton," Ches-slngton," I said, "It Is hardly worth discussing. I don't mean lo :narry for anything "but love, and I don't care a scrap for you." "It is not in the least necessary," he said- "It is to me," I returned. "What's more, I love another an-other man, and I'm going to marry him. So let us eay no more about it. Do you mind spotting the red for me?" That was the end of it; ho looked frightfully sold, and waa eo ofT his game- that I beat him by 47. There, Mr. Richard Conroy, I hope you are satisfied. Goodnight, Good-night, yi. P. S. I wonder what father will say tomorrow! No. 7. oFrom Richard Conroy to Miro Violet Guffton. My own darling, Bad news. Thc bailiff, Sntin-lors, Sntin-lors, and your father have evidently "aid their heads together; my enravan has been raided, and I have been or dered off under dire threats. I am halting a mile beyond Yarpolo. Will you come to me and make a bolt for happiness and a special license? It seems our only chance; cLal'ay may be fatal. Tou can trust your loving, anxious anx-ious DICK. No. 8. From ' Miss Violet Guffton to Richard Conroy. All right- Of course I can trust you, you dear boy. I have had an awful time since I refused C: little sneakl Look out for me at the south lodge gato at 7 tomorrow morning. Father rind mother wlU never come xo their senses while there is a chance of a fool's coronet coro-net for me. When we are married I shall be able to talk them into reason. Oh, Dick, dear, I am dying for love of you; still I should have liked a proper wedding all the same. But a rich girl can't expect to have everything just as she wants it. Good-bye till tomorrow, and then good-bye no more. Tour wlfo, VI. (Copyright ln the. "United States of America.) |