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New York is always interested in the cotton crop. And this sensational account of the Hatfield-McCoy feud, by a schoolmate of a niece of the Governor of Kentucky, isn't such a bad idea. It happened so long ago that most people have forgotten it. Now, here's a poem three pages long called 'The Tyrant's Foot, by Lorella Lascelles.
Then George and Fanny, too had striven with her to give them the name of her betrayer, that he might be compelled to do her justice. Lorella refused. "I told him," she said, "and he I never want to see him again."
She smiled to herself the comment of the younger generation upon the older. Sin it might have been; but, worse than that, it was a stupidity to let a man make a fool of her. Lorella must have been a poor weak-minded creature. By dinner time Ruth had completely soothed and smoothed her vanity. Sam had been caught by Susan simply because he had seen Susan before he saw her.
Lorella denied that it was he. "If you kill him," she said to Warham, "you kill an innocent man." Warham was so exasperated by her obstinacy that he was at first for taking her at her offer and letting her go away. But Fanny would not hear of it, and he acquiesced. Now "This child must be sent away off somewhere, and never be heard of again," he said to himself.
There was a clump of cedars at each corner of the plot; near the largest of them were three little graves the three dead children of George and Fanny. In the shadow of the clump and nearest the brook was a fourth grave apart and, to the girl, now thrillingly mysterious: LORELLA LENOX BORN MAY 9, 1859 DIED JULY 17, 1879 Twenty years old! Susan's tears scalded her eyes.
With a certain defiance, "And Lorella she was a sweet, womanly girl!" "As sweet and good as she was pretty," replied Stevens heartily. "The way she kept her mouth shut about that hound, whoever he is!" Warham's Roman face grew savage, revealed in startling apparition a stubborn cruelty of which there was not a trace upon the surface. "If I ever catch the I'll fill him full of holes."
When, at the first night of "The Scandal," the audience lingered, cheering Brent's picture thrown upon a drop, cheering Susan, calling her out again and again, refusing to leave the theater until it was announced that she could answer no more calls, as she had gone home when she was thus finally and firmly established in her own right she said to Sperry: "Will you see to it that every sketch of me that appears tomorrow says that I am the natural daughter of Lorella Lenox?"
Perhaps, Mr. Bloom, you have perused the lines of Lorella, the Southern poetess. That is the name above which Mrs. Blaylock has contributed to the press of the South for many years." "Unfortunately," said Mr. Bloom, with a sense of the loss clearly written upon his frank face, "I'm like the Colonel in the walk-making business myself and I haven't had time to even take a sniff at the flowers.
"Yes, he jumped right up as if he was pulled on his feet, while the minister was reading the chapter," said his cousin, Lorella Speed, who had been in church, to her sister, who had not. "His face was as white as a sheet, and his eyes were just glaring out of his head. I never felt so thrilled, I declare! I almost expected him to fly at them then and there.
"You did make a fool of me, but my eyes are open. Your aunt's right about you." "Oh, Uncle George!" said the girl, a sob in her voice. But he gazed pitilessly gazed at the woman he was now abhorring as the treacherous, fallen, unsexed daughter of fallen Lorella. "Speak out. Crying won't help you. What have you and this fellow been up to? You disgrace!"
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