Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1880-11-14
blood issuing from a wound in his

| heart.
Swift as Drusilla had been Lmcrece
was there before her. She was down
upon her knees trying to stanch the
blood. Her face was distorted with hor-
TOR and grief. She was still as death
until she found her efforts vain, and,
when her lover fell lifeless burden
! from her arms, such O. shrek echoed
| through the house as could never be for
gotten by those who heard it. Father
and mother knew in that instant that
their beloved only daughter was hope
less maniac. CLEARING wildly around
her glance fell upon Drusilla, and, re-
! garding her cousin as the murderer of
her lover, she sprang toward her. with
insane fury. It required the united
strength of Mr.. Sterling and his farm
hand to loosen her hold of Drusilla's
throat! 0 what night of horror was that!
Drusilla lying between life and death,
Lucrece raving of her lover, and accus-
| ing Drusilla as his murderer.
Only one person knew the truth of
the affair that was John Miller, the
hired man. He had been to the village,
and, on his return, he saw Maxwell ST.
Ives standing by the gate, looking
toward the house. The man glanced up
| to find what attracted his attention, and
| there, plain as day, saw Roy Sebert kiss
| Drusilla's hand. The next instant Max
well went rapidly up the walk, entered
the house without announcement, and,
| almost Immediately afterward, retraced
| his steps, mounted his horse, and rode
| rapidly away.
All this was elected the following day
at the Coroner's inquest, and the fact
| that Maxwell st. Ives was missing was
| all that was needed to confirm the YER
dict, and free Drusilla from any sus-
| picion of direct completely in the muir
der. Yet when, after weeks of illness,
| she came back to reason and life, she
| felt that she could no longer remain
under her uncle's roof.
81 must live by myself" she said,
| sadly; 81 bring sorrow and death into
every household I enter"
So it was planned that cottage
should be bought, and Jeanette should
be sent for as companion and servant.
I was visiting friend in the country
who told me the story. She said to me,
one afternoon when we were out driving,
" Would you like to call on DrusilIa
Sterling? there is the cottage.
1t was q beautiful place. There were
English roses trained about the low
porch. A woman In French cap met us
| at the door and conducted us into the
room where her mistress sat reading. Z
stately woman, wearing black dress
and q small black cap, that, with its cor
onet outline marked by tiny pearls,
looked like a small royal crown. The
eyes were clear and dark, but infinitely
sad. Of Late years Jeanette had read
| to her mistress until Drusilla's over
taxed eyes had, by rest and carefulness,
become as bright as in youth. Her
mouth was large, but curved and sweet.
She was so grateful to us for coming !;
she admitted that her life was lonely at
| times.
When my friend said, 81 have told
Miss Brookner your story, and she gives
you her love and sympathy, she reached
her right hand out to me- I can never
forget the clasp of those soft, caressing
fingers. By and-by she was led to talk
of the past and of Maxwell ST. Ives. A
man answering to the advertised descrip-
ton of him had died Of yellow fever in
New Orleans one year after that SUM
| MCKNIGHT tragedy.