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GUY KENMORE’S WIFE. —,
red lips, while her large brilliant black eyes flashed with discon.
:entand scorn. Over Irene’s tragic death she had shed not a tear.
She had always disliked the girl for her youth and winsome
beauty and looked down on her for the stain upon her birth,
always deploring that she had not died in infancy. The poor
irl’s willfulness the night of the ball had changed Bertha’s dis-
ike to hate. She was secretly glad Irene was dead. Better thet
than to have lived to be Guy Kenmore’s wife. -
Mrs. Brooke shared Bertha’s feelings, only inaless exagger-—
ated dezree.
So Elaine found no sympathy in: the loss of the beautiful
daughter whom she had secretly worshiped, and over whose
retty defiant willfulness she had oftentimes shed bitter, burning
ears of grief and dread. :
The old gray hall which her sweet songs and musical laughter
had once made gay and joyous was now hushed and silent as the
tomb. The few servants glided about as if afraid of awaking
the lonely echoes that slept in the wide, dark halls, and quiet
chambers. No song nor laugh disturbed the silence. The mis-
tress sat in the parlor pale and grave in her sweeping sables.—
Her daughters were no less grave and still, sitting in their chairs —
like dark, still shadows, with averted faces and silent lips, for
Elaine had not forgotten Bertha’s treacherous betrayal of her
shameful secret; and Bertha, while.she felt no remorse for her ~
cruel work still felt shame enough to cause her to turn in con-
fusion from the clear, sad light of her sister’s eyes. °
In the meantime that sad truth that oftentimes makes the
pang of bereavement harder to bear, was coming home to them.
Mr. Brooke had died almost insolvent.
Once aman of almost unlimited wealth and position, the old
_ tobacco planter had been almost ruined by the war which had
freed his slaves, and left him only his broad-spreaaing, fertile
acres, with noone to till them. His great income was almost
- gone, for with his losses through the war, he could not afford to
replace with hired workmen the skilled labor‘he had lost.
- In order to keep up the dignity of appearances which his proud
wife considered necessary to herself and her beautiful young
daughters, Mr. Brooke bad been forced to sacrifice his land from
time to time, until now, at the end, only a few acres remained of
his once princely estate. The fine old gray-stone mansion, Ba
View, remained as a shelter for their heads, indeed; but the sacri-
fice of the remaining Jand would barely support them a year or
two Mrs. Brooke and Bertha were aghast at the prospect. They
had e.-pected that the latter would have been married off to some
weal. v personage before the dire catastrophe of poverty over-
took them. They quailed and trembled now beneath the subdued
mutterings of the storm of adversity.
When Elaine came down and ‘mingled with them again, they
broke the bad tidings to her rudely enough,
‘‘No more playing fine lady for us,” Mrs. Brooke said, bitterly.
“We can live on the land a little while, then we must sell our
jewels, then our home, and when all is done, we shall have to
work for our living like common peoyle.” —