Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1878-02-01

ed it. AT one glance she conceived the
meaning as if by intuition, This was
what was on the small Sheet
DAISY FARM, Wednesday Evening.
No matter what happens must see you TINS
evening. Come at once, for pity sakes. have
news to tell. ALICE HENsLow.
Alice Henslow Alice Henslow . Oh,
had it all come to thisp Was this the key
TO the changed manner, the lurking dread,
The cold greetings, the almost formal part
ings? Alice Henslow, George HenslOw's
wife She who had lately run away from
her husband. no one knew whittier. Was
he stopping at John Names house ? Had
It all. all come to this If when she
thrust her hand into that chill water by
d he side of the road she had found some
hing, could it be worse than this?
Now she knew it was dark. Now she
knew the silence of the tomb held the va
cant night. Now she knew the whole
was a waste, and life for her was over.
Marion and she occupied the one room.
Nothing need be done to night. Marion
had not read the words on that note.
Liselte raised it, replaced it in its en-
velope took another envelope from
A drawer. wrote on sheet of pa
per the words: "Good-bye forever.
Lisette;" folded up the sheet, and put it
aud Alice Henslow's note into the second
envelope and closed it.
"Lisctte, what did you see in that letter
You have changed wonderfully. Tell
me-"
at was a private letter to John. |
don't think he would wish you to know
what it contains. have closed it up and
addressed it to him. We must send it to
him tomorrow.
"What did you write to him? Have
you asked him To come early tomorrow -
mo, let us go to bed.
In the dark, when she was in bed, she
could think of the past. The future-she
need think little of it.
CHAPTER ".
On the evening that note of Alice Hen
slows was written John Maine left the
Cross House at 8 o'clock and walked to
Daisy Farm.
This is very awkward" he muttered
as he went. This evening. of all others.
What can she have to tell me? But any
way shall be back here at nine, and at
he Moore House at ten. hope all may
se well there. | hope she has heard moth
ing"
He was young man, about five-and-
twenty. He had blue eyes, fair face,
and fair moustache. Naturally his coun
enance was frank and open; but now
it was clouded and perplexed, and ful! of
vague apprehension.
Before nine he once more found him.
self at Barrowleigh. His face wore even
a graver expression than on setting out.
He went into the Cross House, wrote a
noe and sealed it. The night had fallen,
aud as he passed under the intrequent
lamps of the village, on his way to the
Moor, his brows We're knit and his mouth
squared, like one who had firmly made
up his mind to do something that will cost
a painful effort and require resoute cour-
age. As he took the bleak, straight road
SO familiar to him, he unused:
"Alice's news was very important.
So he has found out where she is,
where she has been since she fled from
him, under whose roof she now lives. 1t
this discovery could have been averted for
a week longer something might have
been done. Now there is no knowing
what may occur. All Barrowleigh will
hear of it tomorrow. and by the day
after the news will be there" He point
ed with impatient anger into the darkness
ahead perhaps he has already written
to Lisette's mother. That would be like
him. What am to do? | cannot back
out now. | must stand by Alice-and
will"
1t was impossible to see two yards
ahead He walked on rapidly for more
than half an hour. Suddenly a voice
coming from few feet right in front of
him called out his name. He knew that
voice. and before he had time to bring
himself up he was within arm $ length OF
George Henslow, Alice Henslow's hus-
band.
John Maine could see nothing; but he
knew that a much more powerful man,
man taller by head, stood in his path
aud barred his way. He could hear the
heavy breathing of the other. Before he
had time to reply strong hand was laid
IN his arm, and Henslow spoke again.
IL knew you would come this way to-
light, and as the place is quiet, and had
to say to you, thought I'd
wait tor you. I've been here two hours
aud have got a wet coat"
I'VE shall talk more freely if you let
my arm go. am not accustomed to be-
ny held in that way"
"Do you suppose am accustomed to
alking to men who decoy my wife away
rom me, and hide her in their houses, I'M
Ter my own nose
Continued tomorrow