Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1883-08-30

! He had an hour to spare while he
waited for his train, and walking along
the winding road which led beyond the
village, he paused at the gate of the
little rural cemetery, all grown up with
somber frs and weeping elms, through
whose dropping branches came the
CLEAN of occasional tombstones, though
one-half of all there seemed to be neg
lected and overgrown graves.
"His would be of that lott unused
Gordon. 81 wonder if / could find il? 90
The gate was unlocked. He went in
and wandered about the deserted paths.
! The place was small, less than an acre
| in extent He passed the well-kept
plots with the mereSt glance, to push
aside the briars from gray, sunken
headstones, where the Inscriptions were
half obliterated by moss and age, but
he did not find the name for which he
| sought. He was on the point of turning
away at last. OFF in one corner lay a
solitary grave which he had passed
without approaching. A broken shaft
| of purest white marble marked it, and
a narrow path broken through the light
snow which covered the ground showed
that, though lost, the one who lay there
| was not forgotten. As Gordon paused
for one last glance around, a girlish
figure fitted across his sight, directing
ner course toward that isolated mound.
His heart gave a sudden leap. He
had not seen her face. but the figure and
| walk seemed too familiar to be mistak-
en-. He followed her, and his eyes fell
upon the tablet of the shaft. 1t had
only a name with dates OF birth and
! L. IL 81,
he had looked in vain--that of Rodney
standing opposite her, stretching out
his hands to Rodney Frances daughter.
Miss Oliphant.' he exclaimed, Il
have found you at last
She lifted her eyes, so large and dark
in her thin, colorless face. In that first
moment he had time to note the change
which suffering had wrought in her.
Il WONDER he thought, wrathfully,
| '.if it is for the scoundrel who deserted
her when she needed him most?"
- have found you," he repeated.
holding the little, wasted hand she had
given him in an unconsciouSly tight
grasp. .'And oh, my love; it win be
your fault if / ever leave you again."
1t had been no part of Mr.. Marquis
intention to make an avowal of love in
the very first breath. but it broke from
him unawares. Dana colored painful
", and tried to draw away her hand;
her eyes fell upon the grave at her
feet.
do you know" she asked, 'sthat
he was my father, and-a martyr?'
81 know. l know all that has been
said. and that brings me back to the
news / have for you. l did not mean
to speak of my own affairs SO soon, of
the love have had for you since l knew
you first
Il cont expect any answer yet. If
| may hope that you will forget what
has gone in time, and learn to care for
me then, Twill be content. Don't speak,
please. There is something else to tell
you which you will be panied to hear.
1t is about your mother.
The wide eyes flashed up at him with
sudden terror in their depths.
"Have they found hero
He put that fear at rest and told her
what he had already told Lex,
glancing anxiously at his watch as he
concluded.
Il have barely time yet to make my
train, but | Will wait for the later one if
you VIII accompany me.
II will 90, of course, Mr.. Marquis,
but how did you find mamma?'
He colored, hesitated. IL aided
her to escape" he admitted, at last.
Il had charge of friends yacht, and
had laid up for repairs at Shoreden. I
had gone ashore that night. and was
walking on the sands when l met her
and saw at once that she was in great
trouble. She told me of her purposed
flight. and | offered to help her. | took
her straight to the place where she still
is, and then ran the yacht over to New
port where my friend was waiting for
me. When | went back, [ found her
very low. She had been taken with
hemorrhage. brought on by the shock
of reading in the papers of Mr.. Oil
plants death. She has never recov-
cred from that blow, never will recover
from it. She rallied from that first i'll
ness, but is slowly and surely dying. the
doctor SAYS, of consumption, | think of
a broken heart. 1t is sad news to bring
you, and it is of you alone she thinks
now
My poor mother, my poor mothert'
Tears had gathered in Dana's eyes
and were rolling down her cheeks.
.sShe need not have feared hardness
or GOODNESS from you," said Gordon,
softly. Il felt sure of it, but she has
feared that you could not forgive her
for having wrecked your life. The
papers told her everything, and she
would have them; everything up to
your leaving. She had not thought you
would do that"
1t was the best thing l could do
Dana replied, constrainedly. They
were walking side by side on the road
to the village, but she paused as they
neared it.
''Will You go on to the station and
wait for me there? l shall have to get
leave of absence. / am Miss French
here and | teach the village school.
Fortunately, this is Friday. and they
can find some one to replace me for
next week.
A great compassion shone down upon
her from Gordon Marquis blue eyes.
My poor little girl! What a change,
what a chanref'