The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1881-01-27
CHAPTER II.

tIfGl in Lucy Grey's face or form-that
is, no physical beauty = but there
was a stamp on her countenance which
God alone had placed there-the stamp
of purity, truth, and virtue.
Since the sudden departure of Arthur
Bolton, e pensive sadness had weighted
the general buoyancy of her spirit; ever
since Sir James had called, and, taking
her hand in his own, had gently said:
"Lucy, 1 have sorrowful news to i'm
part-news that will break your heart,
unless you boldly bare your shoulders to
the burden. Prepare yourself, my dear
friend, to hear what I must tell you.
Arthur Bolton has robbed his father, and
deserted the girl he promised to make
his wifep
"I can not, will not, believe i'll" she
cried, with head erect and eyes afame.
"Why should Ibis father-say it
unless it were the bitter truth 2" he re-
proachfully asked.
"Too true-too true!' she walled in
her heart; and from that hour her cheer
fulness was gone, and a subdued sadness
took its place.
It seemed but natural hat Sir James
Bolton should often call, and exert him
self to cheer her; but when, several
months later, he had gently asked her to
forget the ~disgraceful conduct of his
son, and become his wife, she resolutely
declined.
'Neverl" was her quiet reply, and that
was the last she thought of it.
Sir James returned home from his last
visit in a very moody frame of mind.
For several hours he remained closetedin
his room, while a fierce battle ragged
within his breast. He had injured his
son-had sent him on q wild-goose chase
into the very midst of danger-had told
his intended wife the double falsehood
that he was a thief and a villain-had de-
tanned, read, and destroyed, the loving
letters directed to Lucy in his care, and
now should he his purpose or
consummate his villainy? His crime
had brought suffering with it, for the
lght-hearted easy-going gentleman of
two months previous had changed to a
haggard, morose, and passionate mar.
"Shall I give her up now" he cried,
his bloodshot eyes straining straight
ahead, ~"renounce her now, now when I
have consigned my son to misery for her
sake? Mol Deprived of her and of my
son, what is left in life for me 2"
It was nearly two weeks after this
event that Lucy Grey received a note re-
questing her to call at the residence Of
Sir James Bolton, as he wished to see
her in regard to an important matter,
but was too i'll to leave his house. The
note also stated that, as the subject of
his interview would be his absent son, it
would be wise to keep the knowledge of
her call strictly private.
This note quite astonished Lucy, but
as she did not know what importanc,
might be attached to it, she determined
on a~cceding to the request. It was about
the hour of dusk that lucy Grey, with
a cloak completely enveloping her, pre-
scented herself at the door of the Bolton
mansion. The servant had evidently re-
ceived his instructions, for without a
room of his master.
Before a low table whose marble top
was hidden beneath g~ilt-edged volumes
and musty papers, sat Sir James. His
face was slightly pale, and his eyes shone
with unnatural brightness, as, rising
from his seat, he cordially extended his
hand toward his visitor.
"You cannot imagine, Miss Grey" he
said, in soft, melting tones, "what pleas
ure it affords me to have my request
promptly granted. My dear girl. you
have suffered now for a long time-suf-
fered through the cruelty and brutality
Of"
"Stop, Sir Jamesl" flashed Lucy,
confronting him with scornful eyes. 81
did not come here to hear his name
dragged again in the mud, O do I ask
for pity. I am a woman, sir, and as
such you should respect the motive which
prompted me to come here. Now, Sir
James," she cried, advancing a step for
fard, while the color dyed her white
cheeks at the thought of her rashness in
being drawn into so delicate a position,
''you have stated that you had some.
thing Of Importance to communicate to
me. What is it?"
Boldly her blue eyes met the piercing
gaze rivited upon her. For a moment
Sir James paused; then, with an impetu-
GUS spring, he caught Lucy by the hand.
In vain she strove to wrench herself from
his grasp
"CeaseI" he cried, i'll husky, passion
ate tones. "You must, you shall heal
mel Miss Grey-Lucy-darling-" and
his hot lips almost touched the cheek
which had become as alabaster: "my
son has deceived, deserted you-tram
pied upon the tender love of your heart,
and not only yours, but mine-his ia
theirs. Heavenl" here the strong mar
shook as with palsy. "'That my Sol
should be so base, so cruell Lucy, the
sympathy which I, as his father, have
felt for you has turned to loYe-idola
try"
"Monsterl awayl" she gasped, with {
convulsive spring backward, while hel
eyes flashed, her cheeks crimsoned, ant
her hands were clenched. "You-hii
father-to insult me-let me pass!"
"Never!" he Missed, springing to he
side again. "H not with your will, ther
without it, you shall be my wifeI"
And, snatching a moistened handker
chief which had been lying on the table
he pressed it firmly to her nose ani
mouth. In a few seconds Lucy Gre,
sank senseless to the floor. Gently lift
ing her in his arms, Sir James carried
his senseless burden through the gloomy
intricate halls till he stood before q heav,
door rusty with age. Unlocking it, h,
entered q large room with diminutiv
windows, through which a single ray o
light threw its halo over swords an
weapons Wondering into dust. De
posting his burden on a large squar
bed standing in a orner of the room, h
silently withdrew, and, an hour later
was strolling modify through tn
garden below.
CHAPTER III.
"Good morning, father!" exclaimed
hearty voice, and, glancing up, from hi