Devils Lake inter-ocean. (Devils Lake, Ramsey Co., Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1905, 1886-08-14
CHAPTER III.

your age is allowed the privilege of running,
even in q losing race, against a millionaire"
CHAPTER III.
DAISY.
went to my room at the hotel in a state
Of agitation which found it difficult to con-
ceal from Harding. I had seen the woman
who exercised SO strange q fascination over
me-but under what circumstances She
was the companion of a man whose incred-
ible wealth made him q creature apart. l
am as little inclined as most men to worship
mere money, but l had not needed the cynical
advice of Harding to grasp the bitter truth
that in these times there is a great gulf fixed
between the rich and the poor. I myself, it
is true, was not poor. My father had left
me in possession of q moderate completeness;
but in comparison with the fabulous riches
of Mauleverer my little income was shriveled
into absolute nothingness.
Moreover, there was the bitter fact that I
did not know the relationship between her
and the millionaire. Night it not be posi-
BILE that, like many other men who have
reached the age when mind and body alike
arc beginning to decay, he cherished the il
fusion that he might renew his youth by
uniting his own life with that of a beautiful
girl?
And yet, as 1 vexed myself with these
ideas, I could not subdue the joy I felt at the
thought that I had at last found a clew to
my unknown love, and that at this very
moment I was under the roof which also
sheltered her. On this point I was indebted
to Harding for my knowledge. He had
that Mauleverer had been accompanied by
the young lady when he returned to the
Grand hotel. To discover her name and the
relationship in which she stood to the mill
lionaire was now Harding's mission.
While he was pursuing this c%ongenial task
among the gossips of the saloon I retired to
my own room and sat there wrapped in
uneasy contemplation. By and by / was
reused by a tap at the door, and thinking
only that Harding had brought me some in
formation, 1 called to him to enter. I turned
to greet him with an eager question when,
10 my amazement, I saw that instead of
Harding, Mauleverer himself was standing
before me.
His appearance was so great a surprise that
l was only able to face him in silence, while
he on his part showed a certain amount of
embarrassment and even shyness. He stood
before me, a withered, prematurely-aged
man, with pale, wrinkled face, and dim eyes
that looked out feebly through the specta-
| cles he habitually wore. 1t was difficult to
conceive that this forlorn looking creature,
who bore all the marks Of decrepitude and
suffering, was the man whom everybody in
this gay world Of Scarborough was e~nvying.
As l looked at him I forgot all about his
millions, and only saw in him the feeble
valetudinarian to whom existence itself must
be a penance.
He spoke at last, and when he did so my
heart leaped with joy, for I thought I de-
tected in the mild sweet accents of his voice
something that reminded me of my COM
panion of the railway carriage. There was
a grave smile on his face, too, that redeemed
Its careworn ugliness.
"You will forgive me, sir, for intruding
upon you" he said, with a shy hesitation,
by which I was surprised and touched. II
did not know, when my niece recognized you
this morning, that you had rendered her so
great a service as that which she has de.
scribed to me. I am very grateful. I ought
to have been there to protect her; but, I'M
luckily for me, I was laid up here with the
throat complaint that SO constantly troubles
me. I have come to thank you in her name
and my own"
His niecel That was the first thing I
grasped as he spoke. Then at least we were
not rivals! I an afraid that Mauleverer
must have thought my conduct rather Pc
culiar. When he held out his hand at the
close Of the little speech I nave just repeated,
l grasped it with a fervor hat made him
vince, but I found it even more difficult
than he had done to express myself in words.
OF course l answered him that any man
would have been only too proud to have had
the opportunity of serving his niece; and I
asked eagerly if she had suffered from the
shock of the encounter at York, telling him
that I thought she had looked pale when I
met her on the promenade.
He regarded me steadily for a moment
with his mild eyes. I could see that he did
not altogether relish my comments on her
appearance.
"Thank you very much" he said with his
old fashioned precision of speech; "Miss
Stancliffe did not suffer at all from her
journey, owing to your kindness; but I am
sorry to say she has been an absolute prisoner
ever since then through my illness. She is
an excellent nurse, and when I am i'll, as I
too often am, unfortunately, she allows no
one else to wait upon me-"
And then he explained how 1t had hap
pened that she had been travelling without
male escort when I met her. He had come
down to Scarborough merely to engage
rooms, intending to return to London for his
niece. But a sudden blast of the treacherous
cast wind had laid him low, and instead of
going back to town to escort Miss Stancliffe
CWhat a pretty namel I thought to myself
he had been compelled to telegraph to her to
ask her to join him at once in her favorite
capacity Of nurse.
By this time We had both Of US recovered
our self-possession, and were chatting almost
on the footing Of old frienda He took up a
book which was lying on my table. 1t was a
volume of Wordsworth.
"You are fond of poetryi s. is Daisy
Miss Stancliffe. She roads a great deal now,
and I often get the advantage Of her reading.
You see we have very few friends. We are
strangers in England, my niece and l."
%don't suppose you will have to wait very
long before you will have an abundant sup
ply Of friends" I ventured to remark, with a
smile.
He answered me quite seriously and simply.
II do not know. There are 30 many things
to be considered. One must be very careful
In a place like E~ngland-so l have been told.
Sometimes l think we made a mistake in
coming home; we might have been happier
over there"
Continued nert neck.)
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