The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1884-10-23

Ihave for You. Your brother Wilfrid
has not so utterly ruined my father al
was at first imagined Some of the
property is saved, and shall have adot
and not come to your home an ute,
beggar;" :,
Trevor scarcely graciously. IT have
"Why, Trevor, what has happened.
How gloomy and stern you look.
Something has happened which has
upset me exceedingly. Those letters
Wilfrid's letter, that you saw in my
drawer last night-are gone" and he
looked at her fixedly while he spoke.
"Gone-what do you mean?"
"Some one has taken them away: dc
you know who it is?"
"Trevor, you brighten me-don't
glance at me like that-but tell me-
whose interest would it be to take them
What are they about?"
II am afraid you know too we'll what
4 they are about"
| ''I! Why, it is only last night I dis
covered that Wilfrid Lane was your
brother"
"Ah! You are good actress, Miss
Craigie."
"Trevor-great heaven, Trevor-you
surd!"
''You know nothing of the disappear
ance of those letters?"
Nothing, upon my word; as stand
here living woman, 1 swear it. I"
He shook his head; her very deter
mined assurance made him doubt her
more, and he turned away.
-"Alas, Miss Craigie, that I shoul d
live to say it, but till those letters are
found I can enter into no further en-
gagement. Robblng me of them could
be the act of no common thief, attracted
by 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
haltingly.
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: ut 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 allude 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
of beauay that had crossed his path
and changed so speedily into hideous
spectre.
| =. No, he would never marry now. So
he had told BARBARA more than once of
late, and smile had for. q moment
| lighted up her wrinkled, soured face
at his words.
Toward the end Of October change
came to the everyday routine of Heath
field Cottage. Barbara fell i'll. Siezed
with 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 son than
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 Trevors
patience not little There was evil
IDENTIFY something she wished to say,
and that 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
feeble CLEAN of departing twilight, and
an occasional flicker from a wood fire
Cousin Barbara made strange, un-
earthly sound, and pointed with the
forefnger of her left hand to an old
bureau which stood in the corner. Ire
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 sudden he uttered a 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. It 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 OF
the room, called the little maid of the
establishment. and babe her go to her
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 more than she could bear.
He had never forgiven Madge Craigie
when he believed her to be the thief,
how then could Barbara hope to be
forgiven.
All that night he did not return, and
during the next day there was no sign
from him; the servants and neighbors
did the best they could for Barbara,
who was so quiet and enduring and pa.
tient that they all believed the end
must he very near, since no one had
ever seen her so subdued before.
| Twenty-four hours had passed since
Trevor Lane went away with the letters
when a London hanson drove MP to the
garden gate, and he, himself got out,
accompanied by Madge Craigie.
She looked very i'll and wan. and was
by no means the handsome Madge she
had been five mouths ago; still there
was a bright expression in her eyes
which looked like rapturing happiness.
Trevor led her straight up stairs to
Barbara, whose agitation on beholding
her was painful to witness, but Madge
/ kne1t down bes1do the hcd. and takin o.