The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1874-09-26

Her lover attempted to dissuade her,
but neither his nor Miss Malabone's en-.
treaties were Of any avail. She COM
pleted her preparations and set out
alone.
Her inquiries at Ii Post Place were
as unavailing as her lovers. From
there she went to New Orleans and
made inquiries at the bank from which
Miss Malabone's drafts came. She
there learned that the drafts were
brought by man named Lamar, but
they could tell her nothing more. A
letter was written Fox at St. Louis and
in a few days he called upon her. But
he was obstinate as mountain; he
would not tell her word of her faith
er's or mothers history more than she
already knew. She entreatel him and
commanded him by turns, but he sat as
immovable as stone. She realized, at
last, the utter hopelessness of
getting any information from
him and gave up her questioning. She
arranged to return home and Fox
agreed to 60 up the river to St. Louis
with her. When they went on the
boat she was so tired with anxiety and
disappointment that she went to her
statc-room at once, but it was we'll
along in the night before she fell asleep.
She had hardly, as she thought, closed
her eyes when she was aroused by hur-
rying feet and loud cries. She sprang
from the room, supposing the boat was
on fire or sinking, but had gone only a
few steps when she met others return
ing to their berths and was informed
''it was nothing, only man shot,
In the Dlorning she waited for Fox,
but he did not come near her. A
promenade up and down the boat failed
to discover him, and when at last, she
inquired of one Of the officers about
him, she learned it was he who had
been shot. He was still conscious and
the surgeon thought he might recover,
but there was already pallor l" his
face that spoke Of the tomb. She
heard nothing as to the quarrel; mere
ly that Fox had some words with Il gen.
tleman and was shot. lie was still
alive when they reached st. Louis and
she conveyed him to Post Place in ac-
cordance with his wishes.
In few days it waSevident to them
all that his life was cbbing away. Vir
ginia had renewed her attempts to per-
suade him to reveal her fathers adj
dress, but he remained sullenly silent.
When the physicians told him his hours
were numbered, Virginia determined to
make one more effort. He heard her
through and then, after moments 81
lence, said:
IL will put the information in writing
on one condition: that you will not
read it until after your marriage
She promised accordingly.
"Pull out green box from under the
bcd,'' he said.
She drew the box out.
Gin that box you will find the inCor-
nation you want. You have promised
me not to open it until after your mar
riage.''
but what has my marriage to do
with it g.
''Nothing, only it is my fancy to have
it so.''
A few hours later and his spirit had
fed. his last words being, II nave your
PROMISE
When he was buried she started
back to Brightwood with her treasure
the green box. Her lover laughed at
her for promising not to open the box,
saying, lightly, ''Who knows but there
is some reason there why we should not
be married; and think how you would
feel when it was too late!''
She knew that he put 20 meaning
whatever in his words, and vet they re.
manned with her long after he had gone.
Who could say what might not be hid
den in the green box? If there was
not some horrible mystery connected
with her name, why had she been kept
in such ignorance of her father? And
only that day she had found that the
| servant name was not Fox but Lamar.
The New Orleans banker wrote her he
had information Of the death Of George
Lamar in St. Louis on the 23d inst, and
he held fifty thousand dollars which by
AIR. Lamar's orders were to be paid to
her upon proper proof, ETC., etc.
Why was his name ''Fox' to her and
''Lamar' to the public? 1t did not re-
quire long course of reasoning to con.
vince her that it was her duty to open
the box then and there, and not wait
until there were others compromised.
A promise to the dead was I. very holy
thing, but duty to the living was still
more sacred.
| Another moment and the box was
open. Within it were two packages Of
papers one marked, 10 be sent to
Miss Malabone, Brightwood, N. Y, fo1
Virginia Mason, when she is married.
the other, $40 be burned unread
She took the package addressed to Miss
Malabone, and, among records Of de
post and certificates of stocks, she
found the following letter to herself
1t was written, like the writing on the
other papers, in a clear round hand
Do not blame her if her lips grew white
and her heart cold as she read it. Dc
not condemn her if she fell on he1
knees and cursed her life, and prayed
God to end it there. Judge her as ten.
derby as if she were your own sister
and thank God that you and yours arc
spared from such a revelation.
II am writing this" the paper read
intending to send it to you after you
are well settled in life. If should die
before that time, my brother at - Post
Place, St. Louis, will hold it until the
proper time. l am your father; you
are my child. The story have always
told was simply to help you into a
place in society, where I hope you are
when you read this. Your mother was
an angel; for her sake have tried te
DO all this for you. She was Of good
family; nobody, though not the ig