Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1886-08-05
FORCED APART
By w. CLARK RUSSELL.
Author Of the "Wrecl; of the Grosrenor,"
"a Sailors Stceetheart," Etc.
CHAPTER XVIII.


All the evening Jenny had remained in her
room, and had but now, at this hour of ten,
which was even tolling, said goodnight to
her mother parting with her after a long
and close embrace and with a prayer that
/ God would bless her for her love- Then did
she lock her door, and sit and listen: and
/ presently heard both father and mother
come to their bedroom, and the lnurInur Of
| their voices
/ In those old times there used to be in
fashion little travelling box, light to carry
| with a strap across the lid that the arm
might sling it, and much used by country
| folk
| One Of these boxes stood on the floor, and
/ the packing Of it, with many long halt for
a sobbing fit, and active protest and hopeful
reinsurance, had been Mrs Strangfield's oc-
cupation for a part of the evening. Pres
emily rising, Jenny went to the box and
tried its weight Light enough it was-wlth
a single change Of apparel only; yet she took
a turn with it about the room threading on
tiptoel as if to make sure that it was not
| burden above her strength
! She was restless and could not remain
| quiet. Now she would draw out her purse
and count the money that it held; now
she wonld approach the glass and gaze at
the spectral, mournful beauty of her white
| face; anon, and with no more sound than
mouse creeping, she would pace the room;
until the fever in her waned and the passion
ate squirting of thought ceased 10 lacerate
and drive Whereupon she extinguished the
light and took a place at the window, and
| surrendered herself to contemplation of the
stars.
BIanifestlY she meant to take no rest that
night, or was very long in going to it.
One would have had no need for sharp eyes
to look at Jenny's face and know her as a
girl on the eve of some wild business. To-
morrow morning was she to be carried a long
and sorrowful journey by her father, and
when in London, from church to church they
were to wander; and ali the while her heart
was to burn in the fire of his wrath, and her
sacred purity to be blackened by his thoughts
Of it. Her ignorance of matters which, had
she but foreseen all this, would have been
easy to learn and remember, was so deep
that even her mother had gToaned over her
that evening. The very neighborhood
wherein Cuthbert had hired lodgings during
his holiday in London she did not know; she
had never had occasion to write to him. He
had come to Sydenham and met her by an
appointment planned before they left Grey
stone, and all their arrangements were YER
bally concerted with never hitch of weather
to disappoint them, and that was why 10 let
tiers had passed.
So then, the London parish in whose
church they were united was unknown to
her. No light could she give, beyond taking
Gods holy name in witness that she spoke the
truth, which only her mother believed
But the uselessness of the journey, and the
fear of her fathers anger if failure should
attend their search, were not the first causes
Of her present resolution.
That night She resolved, would be the last
she should ever pass in the old wooden house
CAL her mad if you please-and few such
desperate resolves but have madness at
bottom; but there was courage, too, a virtu-
ous audacity, and Of a most womanly sort
acting without reflection; that is; influenced
by tile present that was driving her, and
taking no thought of the future upon which
she was rushing
The church clock was striking the half
hour after eleven when with a SILVER she rose
from her chair at the open window, and,
stealing to the bedroom door, opened it noise
lessly, and listened Tho deep breathing in
the adjacent apartment where her parents
lay, the fall of an ember in the kitchen CRATE,
the loud ticking of a clock, were the only
sounds audible.
Leaving the door aiar, she put on her hat
to which q veil was attached, threw n shawl
over her shoulders, and raised the little
trunk. There was clear moonlight abroad
now, and light enough reflected to give dis
tinctness to all objects in the room. On tip
toe she descended the staircase. and, the bet
ter TO make her exit soundless went through
the kitchen In few moments she had
lightly drawn the bolts of the back door, and
stood in the moonlight
The night was soft and sweet with dew,
and the mild stars shone lustrously Now
was it that the cool air and the deserted
length Of the High street, and the black
shadows Of the soaring town, brought to her
an unutterable sense of honlelessness, and the
chill and terror Of the lonesome state. She
came round to the front Of the house, and
under the gloom of the bay tree paused and
reflected, not daring to lift her eye to her
parents bedroom window.
She crept softly out of the darkness and
crossed the road and went up the street, hug
ging the shadow of the houses. When abreast
Of the market place, again was she seized
with a numbing sense Of helplessness and
great agony of spirit. The sympathy of a
human voice-sone one to tell her story to
and take advice from, she wanted, and per-
haps the very last person whom it would
have entered her head to apply TO under any
other circumstances sho now resolved to seek
This was Mrs Mead, who had shown her
some kindness that morning, and the sort of
sympathy that was not likely to thwart if it
did not profit her.
So she fitted like some restless spirit
through empty stalls AMI vacant silent
gloom, and hositatng a moment before Mrs
Mead's door, knocked lightly.
Although there was no light in Mrs. Meads
window, the old woman was not asleep, hav
ing not two minutes before Jennys arrival
eXtinguished her tallow candle and got into
bed Hearing q sound that resembled
knock ut the door, the old woman lifted her
ear out of the pillow and listened After a
little interval the knock was repeated, and
there being no mistake about the noise this
time, Mrs. Mead, greatly wondering, darted
her withered legs out OF bed, struck light,
swathad her old form in the counterpano,
which she plucbed from the bed, went to the
door and opened it, holding the candle over
her head.
She instantly recognized Jenny, and ut
tered 4 cry of establishment
michael Strangfeld's girl At this time
o night! Seekin' Of me, too! Lord, Lordl