The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1877-05-25
ALIVE OR DEAD!
PART I.

1t was a very hot day hot to oppres-
siveness. The sky was one blaze OF yel-
low sunshine there was not a breath OF
air, not q rustic in leaf, not sound
save the monotonous hum of the bees
ransacking the blossoms. A dead still
ness reigned without the manor of
Brocklehurst although within there
were both noise and excitement, for the
morrow was the wedding-day of Hester
Kyrle, the sole child of John Kyrle,
millionaire, and the heiress of Brockle-
hurst estates. But there were two
excitement did not reach. They were
apparently sacred from intrusion and
even the mother of the bride-elect did
not venture to invade their precincts.
One .of them was the study of John
Kyrle, and the other the chamber of his
daughter. Mr.. Kyrle sat in his study
in a deep reverie. He was tall, lean
man, with hawk-ike eyes, that rested
with a curious intensity on the CRATE,
while huge pile of letters, pushed care
fully into heap, lay unheeded by his
side.
He was exclusively that which is un-
derstood by the term q man of the world,
thoroughly mundane to the backbone.
He slept and he ate and drank under
the connubial roof, and with sterotyped
icy smile paid the household bills with
out question or comment ever cross
ing his thin lips.
But, as far as any of the ordinary feel
ing or influence that the magical word
"home" is supposed to exercise over
man, he might have been celibate. A
very long time ago he had discovered
that his marriage had been fatal mis-
take. Both he and his wife were of the
world; but with this one fact the bond
of sympathy between them ceased en-
tirely.
John Kyrle was cynical, clever and
desperately ambitious. Mrs Kyrle was
foolish, frivolous and dreadfully under
bred.
At the present time there was as little
unison of sentiment as usual between the
il-matched pair, for Mr.. Kyrle's sharp
cut physiognomy bore upon it marked
contrast to the complacent round face of
his better-half. In lieu of beatifc
smile of content, such as she wore on the
eve of her daughters marriage with
Mervyn Tyrrell-a man after her own
heart-Mr. Kyrle's lips were tightly
compressed, while an ominous shadow
bestrided his hght-gray eyes and his
high brow.
There had been an appeal made to him
on the preceding night, an appeal most
passionate and most eloquent, with that
powerful eloquence that truth and feeling
can give even to the most trivial words,
while the voice that uttered it was the
one that was dearest to his ears.
He had faithfully pledged himself to
consider the subject, forced on his atten-
ton by the plaintive, sobbing tones, and
he had passed several hours shut up
in his study to carry out the promise he
had made. But for once his keen intel
lect seemed entirely at fault; the difficulty
he desired to solve remained still un-
solved, and he was sorely perplexed. A
timid knock aroused him; he hesitated
an instant before bidding the visitor en-
ter, and he felt almost like culprit and
a craven when at last light football
crossed the floor and paused close to his
side. Then he mustered courage and
turned to look up with sternness that
tion that was mock on his mouth.
Lie BlIl WIZ bJOOu Dcbluc ullu WIS
slender. almost fragile, in appearance,
wanting slightly in physique, perhaps,
but yet willowy and graceful in figure,
and with face fair as the morning.
Her clear cheeks redeemed and paled
alternately, and her soft lips quivered
like a child's, while her eyes, meek blue
eyes, were fixed eagerly on his own.
Before he could address her, she was
down in q white heap on the floor, with
her clasped hands resting on his knee.
"You will not make me marry him,
father; you will have mercy upon me,
and send him away!"
The wailing cry reached even the
heart that had grown somewhat hard and
insensible by contact with the world.
chester, listen TO me-" and Mr.. Kyrle
leaned forward and took her trembling
fingers in his own firm grasp.
"You are going to be cruel, father, !"
she gasped, with her color all flown and
her face showing up an ashy white.
"Do not excite yourself like this" he
said, quietly, still holding her hands;
but she dragged them away hastily, and
began wringing them in her excessive
agitation.
"Tell me, will you or will you not
save me from worse than death ?" she
asked, with passion in her voice.
"I will tell yon nothing, Hester, until
you choose to be calm.
She drew herself together, as it were,