The Butterfly House

ill beside her window, quite in full view of the departing members of the Zenith Club, had they taken the trouble to glance in that direction, and some undoubtedly did, and she re

lored Martha to put on that simply ravishing gown which she had worn the evening before; she expatiated at length upon the charms of t

She went down stairs and confided in Wilbur. "I never saw such an utterly impossi

are freaks," said Wilbur sympathetically. "Poor old

g dinner and invited

o her stunt th

d. "None too we

I don't see how y

, I suppose," said Margaret, and that was wh

g the first course and she was making her little speech concerning the unfortunate indisposition of her guest of honour when she was sud

up and come to dinner because I won't. She trapped me into a woman's club this afternoon and tried

e of the guests and who sat behind Annie Eustace, looked at Margaret with wonder. "Was this the way of women?" he thought. He did not doubt for one minute that the Western girl had spoken the truth. It had been brutal and homely, but it had been the truth. Little An

lice was talking busily to the man at her right about a new book. She had apparently not paid much attention. Annie wondered how it could have escaped her. That horrid girl had spoken so loudly. She look

liness. He thought that daintily mended India muslin exquisite, and also the carved corals,-bracelets on the slender wrists, a necklace-resting like a spray of flowers on the girlis

oor Wilbur had no society tricks. Alice Mendon, who was quite cognizant of the whole matter, but was broad enough to leap to the aid of another woman, did much. She had quite a talent for witty

ret had had a scene with Wilbur after the departure of the guests the previous evening. For the first time in her experience, the devoted husband had turned u

tly well that if I actually asked her to

an. "You have betrayed your own sense of honour,

heart she bitterly resented her husband's attitude and more bitterly resented the attitude of respect into

" said Wilb

es. That long peaceful Main Street lined with the homes of good people always seemed a safe thoroughfare. Annie was even a

r of a mile past you

uarter of a mile will n

y much afraid of making trouble. She was relieved when he only laughed again and said something about the beauty of the night.

ent is that?" a

in a sleeping world. Annie made no further allusion to Miss Wallingford. She had for almost the first time in her life a little selfish feeling that she did not wish to jar a perfect moment even with the contemplation of a friend's troubles. She was very happy walking beside Von Rosen, holding up her flimsy embroidered skirts carefully lest they come in contact with dewy grass. She had been admonished by her grandmother

arriet?" he asked when he parted with her at her own gate, a sta

of a little surprise that she had not paid more attention when this young m

t?" asked

is usually there too," replied Ann

you next time and h

ion toward Miss Wallingford who had hurt Margaret. As for that charge of "trapping," she paid no heed to it whatever. She made up her mind to go and see Margaret the very next day and tell her a secret, a very great secret, which she was sure would comfort her and make ample amends to her for all her distress of the night before. Little Annie Eustace was so very innocent and ignorant of the ways of the world that had her nearest and dearest been able to look into her hear

ously Alice's expression. Standing before her looking-glass brushing out her hair, she saw reflected, not her own beautiful face between the lustrous folds, but Alice's. T

saw very distinctly the young man's dark handsome face, but she thought, "How absurd of me, to see him so distinctly, as distinctly as I see Margaret and Alice, when I love them so much, and I scarcely know Mr. von Rosen." Being brought up by one's imperious grandmother and two imperious aunts and being oneself naturally

only when her Aunt called after her. She found Margaret lying indolently in the hammock which was strung across the wide shaded verandah. She was quite alone. Annie had seen with relief Miss Martha Wallingford being driven to the station that morning and the express following with her little trunk. Margaret greeted Annie a bit stiffly but the girl did not notice it. She was so full of her ignorant little plan to solace her friend wit

least," replied Margaret coldly.

y harsh things, you know that, Margaret, but that poor girl, in spite of

said Margaret. "How ve

ere is quite

h we could afford a house at the seashore or the

self to have a house at the seashore. I think Sudbury beach would be lovely. It is always cool there, and then you can come and stay with me whenever you like during

girl with a slow surprise. "I

so glad. I have not told you before but now I must for I know it will make you so happy, and I know I can trust you never to betray me, for it is a great

y much attention to its banks. Annie continued. She looked sweetly excited; her voice rose high above its usual pitch. "You understand, Margare

with awakening interes

o believe, but you know I am very truthful. I-I wrote the bo

t t

e talking so much about and which sold better than any o

wrote

only soul that knows except the publishers. They said they were much struck wi

ttered, and her lips tightened. Envy possessed her, bu

ucing the effect of a song. She was so happy, and so

"I wrote it. I wr

speak quite so loud, you

startled look. "Oh," she whispered. "I wo

manage?" as

rnal, and so there was in reality very little to write." Annie burst into a peal of laughter. "It just goes this way, the journal," she said. "To-day is pleasant and warm. This morning I helped Hannah preserve cherries. In the afternoon I went over to Margaret's and sat with her on the verandah, embroidered two daisies and three leaves with stems on my centre piece, came home, had supper, sat in the twilight with Grandmother, Aunt Harriet and Aunt Susan. Went upstairs, put on my wrapper and read until it was time to go to bed. Went to bed.

hat. At least I thought I could not, but after awhile I did, and in a way that nobody suspected, Aunt Harriet sent me to New York. You know I am not often allowed to go alone but it was when Grandmother had the grippe and Aunt Susan the rheumatism and Aunt Harriet had a number of errands and so I went on the Twenty-third Street ferry, and did not go far from Twenty-third Street and I took my book in my handbag and carried it into Larkins and White's and I saw Mr. Larkins in his office and he was very kind and polite, although I think now he was laughing a little to himself at the idea of my writing a book, b

ut self-seeking nature, of one with the burning ambition of genius but destitute of the divine fire. To such come unholy torture, which is unspeakable at the knowledge of another's success. Margaret Edes was inwardly writhing. To think that Annie Eustace, little Annie Eustace, who had worshipped at her own shrine, whom

resting, my de

ice, the look in her eyes chilled her. And yet she did not know what they signified. She went on begging for sympath

ting, my dear child

sed every week, the revises, the letters from her publishers, and Margaret listene

om the significance of Margaret's reception of her astonishing news. Annie only worried beca

box bushes, beyond which bloomed in a riot of colour and perfume roses and lilies and spraying heliotrope and pinks and the rest of their floral tribe all returned to their dance of summer. Alice's imposing colonial porch was guarded on either side of the superb circling steps by a stone lion from over seas. On the porch was a little table and several chairs. Alice sat in one reading. She was radiant in her pink muslin. Alice seldom wore white. She was quite sensible as to the best combinations of herself with colours although she had, properly speaking, no vanity. She arranged herself to the best advantage as she arranged a flower in a vase. On the heavily carved mahogany table beside her was a b

gone to New York and I have been alone all day. We would have tea and cake but I kno

and cake now, Alice, I could eat nothing and grandmother a

e hesitated. She pitied little Annie Eustace and considered her rather a victim of loving

. "They expect me a

send over and tell them you would

, Alice. You see they would have had

I supp

d stop at the post-office for the last ma

and I will have a little dinner-party," said Alice. "I will

. von Rosen might walk home with her as he had done from M

dered at

ret last night," Annie said wi

said

is, must have been oddly brought up to be

rls are brought up dif

tell Alice that she did not realise the e

," she

ttle Anni

blushed, th

his afternoon. I thought it might please her and comfort her after that terribl

lice, regarding Annie

wrote The Poor

knew it all the

red at he

It is the case with many endowed natures but that is a fact which is not always understood.' My dear Annie, I knew that you wrote the book, for that identical sentence occurs in The Poor Lady on page one hundred forty-two. You see I have fully considered the matter to remember the exact page. I knew the minute I read that sentence that my lit

she said, "do you think anybody e

not a blessed woman in that club has

tirely fo

rse, yo

known. You see, nobody ever heard of me and my name would hurt the sales and the poor publishers have worked so hard

come to me with this. I have been waiting for you to tell me, for I was impatient to tell you how delighted I am. You blessed child, I never was more glad at anything in my whole life. I am as proud as proud can be. I feel as if I had written that b

aret

hat is recent," she said, "a

houghtfully. "Poor Margaret, she was so upset by what happened last night t

"I am simply revelling in happiness and pr

ret had," said Annie. Then she brightened. "Oh Alice,"

d your grandmothe

ard not to tell. She is so old you know, and she does tell a great deal without meaning and Aunt Susan likes to tell news. I h

yway about me," said Alic

sted too, I am sure,

cour

d, "or I shall be late. Isn't it really wonderf

held her close, and gave her one of her infrequent kisses. "You precious little thing," she said, "the book is wonderful,

. "Oh, dear," she said, "I have only embroider

arden as nobody else can, if pe

d I don't like to do it and the linen is so grimy that I am ashamed

d. "She can'

like to have her

wished so. She was very far from expecting the results. Alice was too noble herself to entertain suspicions of the ignobility of others. Certainty she was obliged to confront, as she had confronted the affair of the night before. It was,

d to have the club at her own house, before the affair of Martha Wallingford, but the annual occasions were regulated by the letters of the alphabet and it was incontrovertibly the turn of the letter S and Mrs. Sturtevant's right could not be questioned. During the time whic

Marion to come here and keep house and look out for the children. You m

she feel that she must be present at the annual meeting. Margaret never for one minute formulated to herself why she had this fier

pe of a peculiar shade of blue which suited her and she herself worked assiduously embroidering it in a darker shade which brought out the colour of her eyes. She looked quite hersel

o look better,"

astening her long blue gloves. "You have sim

," said Wilbur, gazing at her with a pride so inten

n the table?" he inquired,

ur took the envelope and put it into his pocket. "I will carry it for you,

ain of her blue gown and turned upon him, her blue eyes glowing with a strange fire, feverish ros

rail of her gown concealed that, and she contrived to sit as if they did. She gave the impression of a tall creature of extreme grace as she sat propping her back against her silvered chair. Wilbur gazed at her with adoration. He had almost forgotten the affair of Martha Wallingford. He had excused his Margaret because she was a woman and he was profoundly ignorant of women's strange ambitions. Now, he regarded her with unqualified admiration. He looked from her to the other women and back again and was entirely convinced that she outshone them all as a sun a star. He looked at the envelope in her blue lap and was sure that s

spasmodically the girl, and drove in

plied Wilbur absently, "h

the question. Of course, Wilbur Jack is such a great genius that no young girl like myself pretends to understand him, but that is why I worship him. I tell Mamma I think he is the ideal writer for young girls, so elevating. And then I thought The Poor Lady might have been w

me strangely tense. Men and women turned eager faces; they could not have told why eager, but they were all conscious of something unusual in t