THE EPISODE OF THE EARL

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1514, 7 March 1901, Page 8

THE EPISODE OF THE EARL

“My dear child, if you have any real objections to make I shall be very glad to hear them, but don't be frivoio'u.s,” said Mrs Kennet, looking over to the pale, agitated girl in the corner, whose fluttering eyes lowered! as they encountered the cold, steady glance of her mother. “Mamma,” she faltered, “I don’t mean to be frivolous, really I don’t, but you can’t expect me to hear what you have just told me without “Without what ?” queried Mrs Kennet, in an even, relentless tone which she fancied was touched by a sweet reasonableness, but which Sibyl Kennet knew, from nineteen year’s experience, was only an expression of mild contempt for the opinion that chanced to differ from hers.

- Nothing cowed the child more than this pretence of easy tolerance on her mother’s part, for she knew it meant a mind' sealed against every argument and a determination that her point, whatever it might be, should be carried at whatever cost. Ordinarily Sibyl accepted this note of finality with a submissive grace that was simply the measure of er gentleness, of her powerlessness against the coarser, firmer grain of her mother's will ; but in this instance, futile as she expected resistance to be, every atom of opposition was roused in her.

“Without warning,” she answered, her throat heaving, and hot colour slowly painting her cheeks.

“You talk as if there had been an accident.”

“I should say a calamity,” answered the girl in a low voice, frightened at what she thought seemed pertness. “Sibyl, I can’t understand yon,” said Mrs Kennet, studying the gir!l*s face closely. “You have an offer of marriage that not a girl in New York would refuse, and you act as if Lord Bidworth’s proposal were an insult rather- than an honour.” “I didn't mean that at all, mamma.” “Then what did yofa, mean ?” “Only that—that it was all very sudden. I hardly know Lord Bidworth,” said Sibyl, desperately, trying hard to think how the horrible idea could he driven from her mother's mind. “You’ve seen him about all winter.” “Yes, but I don't know him,.” “You! mean that you don’t like him ?” “I mean that I dont love him,” answered the girl, feeling instinctively that what she said would sound absurdly foolish to her mother. “Oh!” was all Mrs Kennet vouchsafed in reply, although a cold little smile that flickered around her thin lips said more.

“And, besides/* went on Sibyl hurriedly,' flushing furiously, “there are things aibdut Lord Bidworth that— ** She floundered hopelessly under Mrs Kennet’s icy scrutiny. “Things?” questioned the elder wo-

man, raising her delicate eyebrows, as if the unspeakable had been spoken. “What do nice girls know about things ?” “I can’t help hearing what people say.” ‘How can the say of people affect one of the oldest and proudest people in England ? What has the idle tattle .of a provincial city like this to do with a British nobleman ? Are you mad, child ? Do you not realise the opportunity that you have, that I have given you. Have you no ambition, none of my spirit, in you ? ‘What people say,’ indeed! What will'they say when you are Countess of Bidworth, pray.” “Oh, mamma, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! Don’t ask me! I’ll do anything in the world for you, but ” “But the thing I don’t want you, to do,” said Mrs Kennet.

“It’s not that,” pleaded the girl. "I’m not obstinate. I —l don’t want to go away, to leave you —and Jim. It’s that.”

“Nonsense, Sibyl. You talk as if I wanted you to marry some foolish German Pi’ince or French count, instead of an Englishihan.” “Oh, won’t you understand, mamma ?”

“I understand that you are wilful and unreasonable. It is the very natural result of your always having had your own way. But this time, Sibyl, I cannot give in to your whim.”

For one wild moment the thought of open defiance flashed through the girl’s heacL but the idea faded from her as the full consciousness came to her of what open opposition to her mother would mean. dampening pressure of Mrs Kennet’s will had reduced the flame of Sibyl’s spirit until it flickered but fitfully or was wholly obscured, and the hopelessness of a struggle against her mother’s present designs was vividly real to the girl’s mind as it beat hopelessly about in search of some possible egress from the horrible snare that seemed spread about her. “Does Jim know ?” was all she could say, when once more l her voice was at command“lt will be time enough for James to know when everything is settled,” announced Mrs Kennet/ “Settled?” echoed Sibyl, vaguely. “Yes. Lord Bidworth will dine with us to-morow night en famille, and I shall expect you to give him the answer that a dutiful daughter should. “Oh, mamma” cried the child, “you can’t mean it—so soon!” “I see no reason for delay,” replied Mrs Kennet. “Do stop that crying; it only hurts your voice and makes you look like a guy. And what it’s all about is beyond me.” “What—what will Jim say ?” quavered Sibyl. “I don’t know that your brother has anything to say about it. I shall write him to-morrow night of the engagement, and tell him to write to both you and Lord Bidworth. I am going to dress for dinner now. We dine at the Cortneys’ to-night—don’t be late.” And Mrs Kennet, feeling that at last her plans were well afoot, quietly left the miserable girl alone in the big, dim drawingroom,. Dazed and broken, with life itself seeming to fall away on all sides into blankness, she bent her whirling head forward on her arms and burst into a paroxysm of tears. It was the sense of her cowardice that filled her with bitterness. If she only dared to confront her mother f with something of her mother’s courage, she felt she could save herself, but the sickening knowledge of her impotence left her pulsing wildly like a frightened trapped animal, not knowing which way to tpm. Then in her extremity she clutched at what seemed to her to he nothing but straw, the veriest folly. She stepped over to a desk and wrote the following telegram : JAMES KENNET, Claverley Hall, Cambridge, Mass. Come home at once. Important. SIBYL. and rang for a servant. “Have this telegram sent immediately, Sydney,” she said to the man. “Yes, miss. Prepaid?” “Yes.” And as the door dosed behind him the first gleam of hope that had shone through the whole wretched business came to her. IT. She had not expected him till the following afternoon —that is, if it could be said she hoped for his coming at all. The vagaries of a Havard undergraduate, such a one as Jim, anyhow, were not part of her ignorance, and Sibyl knew that luck would have to' lean perceptibly the right way if her brother answered the summons. So she spent little time in speculation concerning his arrival or non-arrival. She was too busy striving to adjust her mental vision to a focus that would show her mother's monstrous 1 proposal in its proper semblance, and if she did not succeed in that, she did succeed, by the searching light of retrospection, in coming at many of Mrs Kennet’s less obvious processes. She knew and always had known since such knowledge had been possible, that her mother’s life was dedicated to that very vague hut still very definite organism for which no better name has been found than “society.” Not the unwieldly and uninteresting mass to whom our sociologists are devoted, but that selected few whose existence depends upon complicated trivialities, and whose non-

existence would not be of much moment to the rest of the world. Among Sibyl's earliest remembrances —small wonder she never forgot, for it was a constant maternal there—was Mrs Kennet’insistence on the importance of knowing the right people and—the necessary corollary—of not knowing the wrong people. The basis of discrimination, however, was so intangible at times, and SO' uncertain, that Sibyl never really understood it; but her mother's calling list was a masterpiece of selection, and bore about the same relation to the. Social Register that that compendious volume bears to tlie city directory-

It was not the fact that her mother considered the Earl of Bidworth one of the right sort of people to know which puzzled the girl; there was precedent enough for acquaintance with even so notorious a noble as the young Englishman, in their intimacy with half a dozen men who were always to he found at the same country houses, at the same dinners in town, and in the same boxes at the opera; her cause for feai'ful wonderment was Mrs* Kennet’s desire that she should marry the man... And even the mystery of that faded away under Sibyl’s eager speculation. Why the Earl of Bidworth should wish to make her his wife was a. question that needed no consideration, even to a girl so little touched by the sophistications of the life about her as was Sibyl Kennet. Her fortune and her mother’s fortune were explanation enough for that; and she saw mistily that her idea that the possession of money means marrying whom one pleases was entirely wrong, from her mother’s point of view; that, in fact, the obligation to marry whom someone else pleases was just as strong as when it is a duty to get a rich husband as a matter of selfpreservation .

All this and more born of her timidity and fear of her mother passed and repassed through the girl’s mind during the long night hours that followed the declaration of Mrs Kennet's intentions, and nothing came of it but a hopeless! feeling that those intentions would fall short of realisation only by the sheerest miracle—such a one as she knew was beyond her poor power. Could her brother Jim accomplish it ? Sibyl had seen him perform what she considered prodigies with tseir mother, but in his own behalf and not on her account —a difference that was incalculable. It was about eleven the next morning, with her chocolate but half finished, when Sibyl was interrupted by the entrance of her maid, who announced that/Vlr James was downstairs and wished to see her. “My brother, Felton?” she cried. “Yes, Miss.” “Let him come up here, Felton. I'll be ready in a moment.” “Yes, miss.” All in a tremor, and filled with a sort of terror at this idea of revolt against her mother, which her brother’s actual presence made positive, she nervously put the brushes to her glistening hair and threw on a long, loose Japanese sacque. A moment after, Felton’s discreet tap was heard at the door, and Jim Kennet came in. “Oh, Jim!” she cried, breathlessly, “I’m so glad you’ve come. How did you get here so early ?” “I came over on the .midnight,” answered Jim. “Fooled over my breakfast till I thought you would be about—then came round. What’s the jow?” he asked, holding her off gently at arm’s length. “Have you seen mother?” she asked fearfully- “ No.” “That’s lucky,” Sibyl said, with a long breath. “I’m in a horrible trouble, Jim.” “Trouble, Sib ? Why, you are trembling all over. What is it?” he said. “Oh, Jim, mother is going to make me marry,” cried Sibyl, tears in her voice and filling her eyes. She had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t break down, but she felt so weak, and small and insignificant beside this big, bronzed brother Jim, that control was impossible, and she threw herself into a chair and began to sob“My dear old Sib, what is it?” said Jim, gently putting his arm about her. “Who is she going to make you martry?” “That horrid—that dreadful Lord Bidworth,” gasped the girl. “The devil she is!” ejaculated Jim, straightening himself. “You don’t mean that cad. ivho was with the Cotters last summer at Newport?” “Yes,” she answered, in a low voice. “She hasn’t written me anything about it,” he said. “I asked her if she had told you, and she said it would be time enough when the engagement was announced.'’ “Oh,” replied Jim, “indeed! And when is it to be announced?”

There was something in his voice that brought Sibyl’s glance to his face, and she saw the same little quizzical look there that so often passed across her mother’s face when she was thinking things.

“He’s to dine here to-night,” said Sibyl- “Mother is to tell him then.” Jim did not reply immediately. He walked up and down the little boudoir, opening and shutting the lid of his cigarette case in a preoccupied way. “May I smoke here, Sib?” he asked, after a while, and before she could tell him “yes,” he had lighted a cigarette and inhaled a thick cloud, which a second after he sent whirling towards the ceiling. “See here, Sibyl, are you quite sure you don’t want to marry him ?” “It would kill me, Jim!” she said, in a low voice, her eyes on the floor. “Me, too, almost,” he answered laconically, standing at the window and jingling the keys in his pocket. “Where’s mother?” he asked, after what seemed an interminable time to her. “In her room.” “I’ll go down,” he! said, diving toward the door. As he opened it, and stood with one foot in the hallway, he turned to her, and was surprised to see her turned quite pale. “What is it?” “Don’t—don’t tell her I sent for you, Jim,” said Sibyl, pleadingly. He came over and kissed her. “My dear sis,” he said, wonderingly, “are you afraid qfsjaer?” “Yes,” she answered in a little whisper “Well,” said Jim, once more moving toward the door, and there was something in his voice that came back to her over his big shoulders which brought courage to the wilting child, “if you don’t want to marry. him, you shan’t that’s all!” ITI. The relations of mother and son in the Kennet family were of the slenderest. For ten years they had seen little of each other save during the vacation terms of school and university; and it must be confessed that to Mrs Kennet these brief interregnums came with terrible frequency. Not that- he bothered her to any great extent—Mrs Kennet never permitted herself to be bothered—even when he was a lad, and since he had entered Havard, she recognised fully what had only been a suspicion before—that her son proposed to do what he liked and think what he liked. This course was made particularly easy for him, by the foolish provision—it was Mrs Kennet who considered it foolish made by her late and unlamented husband, that Jim should come into control of his very considerable property at the age of. twenty-one. And that was not the only grudge that she bore her husband's fatuity. In his very remarkable will he had decreed that on his son coming of age he should assume the duties of co-executor of the estate. Whether, in doing this, Mr Kennet had any malicious ulterior thought of avenging, in an ironical way, the despotic, almost contemptuous, sway that his wife exercised over him, is not known, but the shoe pinched the good lady to the galling point, particularly when it gradually came to her that Jim was not the same malleable creature as his father. Where he got his obstinacy and firmness she never knew, though the mystery would have been no mystery to any stranger who could have seen mother and son together that morning. Mrs Kennet was not in her room, and Jim, going on downstairs, found her busily engaged in the library with hersecretary, who quietly departed on ii 3 entrance, “Why, where did you come from, James ?” said his mother. ‘Came over from Boston last night on a little business.” “Shall you stay long?” she asked, stiffly. Nothing annoyed her more than what Jim called his “business trips.” They were a constant reminder that one of the family reins hung slack, and she knew she could never hope to tight m ’b. She carried off their meeting very well, usually, with particular stress laid on the impersonal note that she had resolved should dominate the harmony or discord of their discourse. “Two or three days,” he replied, seating himself and having recourse once more to his cigarette case. “May I ?” he asked, rolling one of the fat and fragrant Egyptians between his fingers. “Of course/' said she- “I don’t know but that it is just as well,” she went on. “This cigarette ?” asked Jim, smiling. “No ; your staying. I have something very important to tell you.” “ What ?” said! he, knowingjvhat was to come, and rather relishing the fact that his attack would, after all, not be a frontat one, but rather in the nature of a flank movement. “Your sister is engaged to be married.” “Sibyl?” said Jim, fearing that Mrs Kennet would pierce his disingenuousness. “That's the oply sister you have,” was all she said, though. “And you approve ?” asked Jim. Mrs Kennet-, like so many clever women, lacked the sense of humour, and

rb was the thing she loathed most in other people, particularly in, Jim, whom she strongly suspected of laughing at her at times. The subtle irony of his last question, however, passed quite over her head, and she replied, complacently: “Yes, most decidedly”—just as if there wotajld have been any engagement to-.an-hoimce if she had not!; - -- “And to whom?”"// 1 " “ / “To Lord Bidwort&.j T*think you met him last summer.”' * /" ‘ ' What does Sibyl'" say ?”' he asked, ‘quietly. “Unlike, any decent'girl,’she seems utterly ■unconscious "of her'luck,” answered Mrs Kennet/ ’• , ' “I; confess I "don't see' where the.luck bom.es in myself, mother., To 'marry that; impossible/ fortune-hunting'snob-// do:ybtrdail' that hick'?”/"''"' /“ /://'/,. *-•■ “Don’t be vulgar,”' said his' mother.” “I wouldn’t mind _his‘ J'Bemg-a'hoble-aaa;n7di-'weiit:.ont he-wefe only a gentleman.u But. you are'not--'really seH rious ?” he .added, moderating a little. “Perfectly serious,” answered his mother, decisively; “and I don’t propose to be moved by the whims of a foolish firLor the ill-breeding of .an impertinent oy/’ “Oh,”'said he, getting vdjy cold-sud-denly, and standing up in'front of the fireplace. , . ■ ■ ■ /'----- - These two, in opposition more or less, as they always-were," had never had a serious struggle. Their'contentions,, whatever they might ’-beL-amd- --'they-' were/ frequent—always ended- ,in compromises, and they-were both 'conscious that there would be : a struggle-'"•'■for the mastery some day. ■ Jim felt-that it had csM-e-aiy last; Mrs'- Kennet, too, and-she thank-' % edther'stars' that she occupie'd-aiitmpreg-sxable. - p ositio n;> j m-pregnable--' ; ■ -pds it ions have, a; way of fo-ecoaidug prcgnuble, -how* ©ve-2.. .-':r ■!’ ■ •<’* ■ :r 'C-v" ;s “SeA here, motherhe s'aid",".after" a moment;-'and she became aware for'the first time that he looMed'up, physically, "very large-before her, “you may'be''per-fectly-satisfied to b’ecpmdhhe mother-in-law of thisI—-this"man, 1 —-this"man, But you forget, it seems -to me y -that in doing that' you force a relationship upoinurte—a- relationship that I would consider, a- disgrace.” “Fortunately for Lord Bidworth, he will-not-see much of his brother-in-law,” said Mrs Kennet, dryly. “Unfortunately for Lord Bidworth,- he will have to see a.good deal of me .before he manages to- carry of? Sibyl’s neab.little fortune.” • .. . ...... / hat.do you mean?” “I mean that the Earl of Bidworth is a- notorious, fortune-hunter, and an allround disreputable character. If he ’comes into" the -family I’get out. But,” "he added after a pause, “he’s not coming into the family. The Sennets are not going to add their names- to the list of Americans- who have made asses-of themselves.” . _ “You are assuming altogether too much responsibility. on behalf of the Kennets, James,” Mrs Kennet'said,, with an. irritating . smile. •■ “1 think the Kennets .would bear up even if yofui got out, as a moment ago you suggested’ you might/’ I They might jbeafi. up,' mother, but Tm' afraid "they "might do’ very" foolish /things”’ answered .Jim'.';’' p .“Weil,/ . said Mrs £:>;vKezuxet 'turning away as .if the interview-bored her, and was to ba .brought. to. end, “the time has hardly arrived yet, my son, .when Si- • byl’s and my actions are to- be passed upon by you.” ■ ... . .1 . “I am perfectly -wUling; to leave' this ‘whole thing to- Sibyl.” . “Sibyl still has soaie respect for her mother’s wishes,”-Mrs Kennet remarked,, severely, rising. and moving -toward -the door. .. , rs •• •••- “Mother,” he said, and she turned with pae -hand: p« the , dob-r handle, “you shan’t sacrifice, her/-’. , > dDo.iflt.be silly,” she replied., and passed out. ‘ composure was... .more of : a inask .'tlxpaa, she would.-have,had her son guess-, hoy/.eyer; .-'and the resfc.-.of the. day she ca-r-------...ripd in. her-mind’s .eye the--.figure of .a big, hard-faced, . determined-•:boy, --a:who seemed to block, her passage-.whichever way she turned. - * dy - . - ,/. if. . . .../ - ' The-Earl of Bidworth was eae of those •peculiar -flowers of the- British -aristocracy "that tlirivb-'best-in. ■bhe'dein.ocratic' United States. -His debts and his profliga--oie-8 were' too-‘much- for even-Tiny- : self-yespestiagh'shipb-uilder hr-ironmonger’ at -Someyaad after-helpleso - efforts to re-•habilit-ate'-him with the -fortune.-or Pome aspiring,''ambiti6hs,--'ib’iddie-clas3'tradM“ -nta,iXv-.-.hisc people..’shipped him.- a cross' .the Atlantic in uraest. of some less fastidi-ous American..: lie found’--on arrival that-It .Was nafc-sdmuch .a.* matter-of' quest -as-.of nhoi'cc ;■- sund,-iike- the discreet .young nobleman that. .he.-was.’ he-took his-time and-looked -over the field crabber carefully. Sibyl.Kennet finally.-appeared to him to -be.. the.< most .availablesand -eligiblegirl in. ©Very way, and he was not: long-in coming to -an ’■ undersrtanding.'-with : Mrs .Kennet, who -'was-, s what he called “very satisfactory.” .... i•- •• j.--*r. ; :r. . . - -.Sibyl herself he-•found rather difficult; land, taking his. cue from the'elder lady, h,e:made no personal:advance in/.the-'maL ter of his desires and intentions, leaving every thing to her discretion.-- -His gratification, therefore, was none the less keen for his enforced patience when lie received Mrs Kenhet’s summons to “a quiet at . home, dinner,” as her note-'ex-pressed it; ■ The idea of -’ Such "a- func'tioh itr itself made tub? r very 'Strong appeal he the 'ybuhg ffiam'jbU-b'feJ© assuagfe'd liis fdbiifi’gs" withi the "that- ; qui*et'Tamily dinner s-^would:-pl^‘‘'skn-a-l'l vpart-dti his future life.

It was a curious little group that greeted him on his entering the. brightdrawing robm that evening. Jim Ken-’ net, big; cool, and unperturbed; Sibyl, fluttering and timid,- and Mrs Kennet, very gracious/ and self-possessed, -bub with inward anger, for she had come down stairs at half-past seven prepared for a crushing scene with Sibyl and Jim, But they'had not appeared till the clock struck eight, and were then so amiable and apparently amenable that they had left a large amount of unexploded feeling on her hands, which she knew would make her uncomfortable the rest of the evening.' ’ • ;. She almost forgave Jim latex,. for he made himself so agreeable tliat wliat had promised to be a very uncomfortable meal passed off most pleasantly/; aud it, was with less. hesitancy than might Otherwise have. beep, the case that Mrs Kennet, with, a pla.yfui admonition for them not to. linger too .long oyer their, coffee and cigars,'. withdrew with Sibyl and left Jim and the yo’Ung Englishman together. . , When thej- resumed tlieir seats, and the butler > after passing a lighted taper and refilling their liqueur glasses, had left them quite alone, Bidworth took two or three uneasy puffs at his Havanna and.said: “You congratulated me yet.” £• “Congratulated you answered Jim. •“On what ?” “On my engagement-.” • “Your engagement ?” “Yes. . Hasn’t, your mother told you?” asked Bidworth, rather blank-, ly. _ . . . ... ... . . . “INot. to my mother?” said Jim. He couldn’t resist it,: “N.o.—-no/Lstammer-ed .-Bidworth; “to your sister/’: -. ....... .-r, / , “0i1,,., you are ; joking, Bidworth,” laughed Jim. .. “Joking? . My, dear chap, you don’t seem to understand.” ; her ?”, ... _ . _ . . ’ ’ ... said Bidworth, “but- your mother and I have arranged——. “Arranged what ?” asked Jim sharply. ' “A marriage.” ' ’■ : ■ . : ’•; “With my sister?” •- “Yes.” • '' - - ■ “Without her knowledge?” “Mrs Kennet informed me that her daughter would hot be adverse to such an arrangement.” “ Well, as a matter of fact, she is extremely adverse tout, and so am I.” .. “And does that really make so very much difference ?” asked Bidworth, smiling. • He had been rather taken off his guard at first by Jim’s bluntness, but he didn’t propose to let a prize slip through his fingers simply on account of a blustering schoolboy'- . “All the wide difference between success and failure,” answered Jim. _ “Perhaps your mother will have something to say on that score.” “My mother has had all the say she is to have in this matter.” “I would prefer to hear that from her rather than from you,” said Bidworth, leaning forward on the table and scrutinising Jim with an insolent smirk on his face. : . “Perhaps she has neglected to tell -you, Bidworth, that when I arrived at the interesting age of - twenty-one, I became one oh the ti'u,stees of my sister’s not inconsiderable fortune,” said Jim. “Meet me at my attorney’s offices to-morrow, -and they will-convince yous I think,, that

any marriage arranged without my— ” “Shall we rejoin the ladies ?” interrupted the Englishman, coolly pushing back his chair and rising. He felt that the big youngster opposite him really held the winning cards against*him; that the game was up, and that all that remained for him was to cover his retreat creditably.

“I think we’d better not trouble them again’this evening,” answered Jim, also rising and standing with his broad backto the door. “I will make explanations for you that both my mother and my sister will understand.” A deep flush spread over the Englishman’s face. “If it wasn’t for your age, you impertinent puppy,' I’d horsewhip you,” he said angrily. _ “Is. it my age or your size that prevents?” said Jim, good-humouredly, as he touched an electric; . button. '/ “Gall Lord Bidworth a hansom,” he said to the servant who entered a-moment after; J . y “Yes, sir.” -; “And fetch Lord Bidworth’s coat and hat.” “Yes, sir.” ... “This is young America’s idea of hospitality, I supose,” said Bidworth, trying to carry the matter off lightly, though he was cursing within. “No, this is young America’s idea of protecting his family,” answered Jim. “I forgot to tell you that my attorneys are Messrs Clarkson and Clarkson, 48, Nassau street,” he added. “Your hansom, my Lord,” announced the servant-, returning, lie assisted his Lordship with his coat and then passed out in front of him along the hall to open the door,- Jim following behind. No other word was spoken between the two, but Jim stood.-in the entry- till the hansom- aprons -banged to viciously in front of the Earl- and.-the carriage swung-cff down the street. • Mrs Kennet and Sibyl were seated far apart in the drawing-room vrhen he entered, and evidently little had passed between them, for Sibyl, pale and looking pinched and frightened, was on a sofa in a far corner, while'her mother placidly turned the leaves of a book under the light of the big lamp. . They both looked up inquiringly as Jim came in, and Mrs Kennet asked, “Y/here is Lord Bidworth?” “He’s gone,” said Jim, tersely. “Goue ?” she asked, not understanding for a moment; then, catching a look in Jim’s face, .she sprang to her feet and came very close, searching his eyes and finding, what she sought. . dare you!” she cried, quivering. “Oh, Jim!” she cried, cmwfy bgkno., “Oh, Jim!” sobbed Sibyl, burying her head in the cushions.—L. E. Shipman, in the “N.Y. Smart Set.”