The Warner weekly sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1885, 1884-10-17

whose interest Would lG Delo Jake Vnsm'
What are they about?"
ST am afraid you know too well what
they are about"
III Why, it is only last night l dis
covered that Wilfrid Lane was your
brother" .
"Ah! You are a good actress, Miss
Craigie."
"Trevor-great heaven, Trevor-you
do not believe that I-oh, this is too alb
surdw ~
''You know nothing of the disappear
ance of those letters"
Nothing, upon my word; as l stand
here a living woman, l swear it"
He shook his head; her very deter
mined assurance made him doubt her
more, and he turned away.
"Alas, Miss Craigie, that I should
live to say it, but till those letters are
found l can enter into no further IN
gagement. RobbIng me of them could
be the act of no common thief, attracted
bv an open door; other valuables which
were in the room have not disappeared"
GAS you will" she answered, bowling
her head proudly. eff you can believe
this of me, it is indeed better that we
should part" ...
And so, as Trevor had promised, in
less than an hour he returned to Barba-
ia in the studio but during all that day,
and for many days to come, both the
conversation and the painting went on
h~altingly.
Miss Craigie he did not see again,
and report said she lay i'll at the vicar
age; but this report did not reach Trev-
or Lane, since he never went out of the
house now; and so no one but his cous-
in Barbara heard it, and she, In her
gruff, rough way, said: 1T was wiser to
let sleeping dogs lie, and make no allu-
sion to Miss Craigie, with whom it was
evident that Trevor had quarreled,"
though he had never ~vouchsafed to tell
Barbara about the letters. He did not
care to dlude to them, for one reason,
and he thought their loss might worry
Barbara for another.
Heavily the weeks passed by, and the
autumn tints were mellowing the trees
in the little wood. Madge Craigie had
left Heathfeld, and already the episode
of her love passages with Trevor Lane
were forgotten. Forgotten by all but
him; he could never forget the vision
of beauay that had crossed his path
and changed so speedily into a hideous
spectre.
No, he would never marry now. So
he had told BARBARA more than once of
late, and a smile had for q moment
lighted up her wrinkled, soured face
at his words.
Toward the end of October a change
came to the everyday routine of Heath
field Cottage. Barbara fellill. Siezed
with a paralytic stroke, she lay speech
less and powerless. The grand doctor
Trevor sent for from London said she
might rally, but it was doubtful; at all
events she would never be the same
again.
The solicitude and devotion Trevor
showed her was rather that of a son than
a cousin, forsaking even his beloved
painting to remain by her bedside and
minister to her every want. But con-
tent was not one of her requirements,
and she kept up her character for fret
fulness to the extent of trying Treyor's
patience not a little. There was evil
IDENTIFY something she wished to say,
and hat her loss of speech prevented,
and Trevor's repeated recommendation
that she should remain quiet till she
was better, only served to annoy her.
He was sitting with her at the wane
of the day, the room only lighted by a
feeble CLEAN of departing twilight, and
an occasional flicker from a wood fire
Cousin Barbara made q strange, un-
earthly sound, and pointed with the
fosefinger of her sieft hanl to an old
bureau which stoodin the corner. Tre-
vor took little notice at first. but she
was so persistent that at last he rose
and unfastened the bureau. Its carved
doors shut in rows of small drawers, one
after another. He opened several OF
them, but found nothing, and was be-
ginning to think that he was merely
the victim Of q sick woman's caprice,
when on a sudden he uttered o cry.
There, in one of them, was the bundle
of documents marked Wilfrid Lane.
He turned and glared on the woman
who lay in the bed looking at him al
most piteously. 1t was the first time
Barbara had ever seen anger against
herself expressed in Trevor's eyes, and
she covered beneath it, closing her
own, and pulling the bedclothes over
her face.
He did not attempt to speak to her,
but taking up the letters walked out oil
T the room, called the little maid Of the
establishment. and babe her 90 to hei
mistress. Then, the letters still in his
hand, he put on his hat and went out.
Poor, wretched Barbara; her punish
ment, when they told her he was gone,
was almost moro than she could bear.
He had never forgiven Madge Craigie
when he believed her to be the thief
how then could Barbara hope to bs
| forgiven.