Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1886-03-05
A FAMILY AFFAIR
BY HUGH CONWAY.
CHAPTER XVII.
4 HELPING HAND.

HELPING HAND.
To make up ones mind; TO vow TO find n
young woman who has DISAPPEARED without
leaving trace Is one thIng-So I'M her Is
another. The world IS place of considerable
size. AMI chance meetings are not 50 common
as the contiding novel reader Is asked to be-
heve. Such was at least the experience of
two men, who fro-n different moti7es, were
equally anxious to find the fugitive. The
first Maurice Hervey, the second Frank Car
ruthers.
Hervey, who. having paid q second visit to
Oakbury, had in some way managed TO learn
that Beatrice, the boy and the nurse had gone
to London, baGe hasty adieu to Blacktown
and returned to the capital The more he
studied the situation, the more apparent it
became that, TO use his own words, he was
in a cleft stick. So long as Beatrice could
conceal her whereabouts from him, so long
was he utterly helpless. He could. of course
compass u certain amount of revenge
but the cost would be too terrific However
sweet thing may be, it may be bought too
dearly. He could walk boldly up to Sir
Maingay Clauson and proclaim himself his
son-in-law. He could go TO these Talberts
and show them that he married their niece
when she was little more than a schoolgirl
But what good would this dol His bolt
would be shot, and his CULVER held no other.
1t might bring down Beatrice but not her
money. He would have to deal with men of
the world instead of woman over whom he
held the terror OF exposure. He had one
article to sell, silence. There was one Gus
toner for it, his wife, With her he could
trade TO advantage, but the moment he
broke luck for another market his COM
modify became all but yalueleSS
Again, there was that cursed clause in old
Talbcrtss Will Hervey could easily prove
that Beatrice was his wife, but in doing so
he also proved that she had married. when
under age, without her trustees consent
AMI the said trustees could do almost ex-
actly as they liked with her fortune Prob
ably they would throw him two hundred a
year so long as he kept out of the wav.
What was two hundred a year when We
know that had he not insisted on bringing
some ones head down to the dust, he might
have had ten times the amountl Why hal
he not taken the money and foregone his re
venge:
In fact, Beatrice's flight, although not
effected for strategical reasons, was mas
terpiece; a move which bound her enemy
hand and foot. Sayagely he looked forward
to the time when circumstances would force
HIM to take the best offer made him. Well he
knew that the moment Beatrice nerved her
self to reveal the truth to her friends, the
moment she elected to confess her girlish
folly, and face what shame aud blame might
be due to her, every shred of power he held
would be gone. 1t was, therefore, inpera-
tive he should find Beatrice and reopen ne
gotiations upon basis more favorable to
her. Reflection and the risk he now ran Of
his demands. He would take fifteen hun
dred, even half of his wifes income and if
she wished it would enter INTO n regular
deed of judicial separation. He would be
silent SO long as the money was paid or so
long as it paid him better to be silent
What if he gave out that he was dead and
waited until she had married agains Then
his sway would be supreme But to gain
this advantage he must lie silent it might
be for years, and in the meantime must
somehow make a living. Perhaps, after her
former experience, she would not marry
again. Any way the state of his exchequer
put a veto on the waiting scheme.
He expected no unextorted help from her.
He looked for no mercy. He ha showed
none. He had blasted her life: robbed her
years of early womanhood of their sweet
ness; he had traded on the romance which
lies in the heart of every young girl, then,
for nlerceHary purposes, hal turned and
crushed it out He had shown her, nav.
had, in brutal words, told her that he had
married her to raise money in order to save
himself from the penalty due to his crime,
He well knew what he had done, and know.
ing this he had not even ventured at at.
tempting to cajole her when they measured
strength at Blacktown. Had it been needed
the stern set of her features-the scorn OF
her manner would have told him that he
had no mercy to expect, that it was duel
between the two.
He must find herl As the mouths went on
the necessity of finding her became more and
mora obvious. He had, after the manner Of
a gambler, who feels that any hour may
bring the great stroke of luck, lived luxuri.
ously. His money had by now SO diminished
that ne saw lie must shortly Go one Of tlrss
tEmgs, and Beatrice, earn money or sterve
The frs, the most desirable course il
every way, seemed impossible. He had
made, both i'll person and vicariously such
inquiries at Sir Maingay's house as could b.
made without exciting comment and sus-
pic on. He had even been down once more to
Oakhury, seen the Talberts, but had learned
nothing to his advantage. SO course mum
Der one could not be counted upon to meet
the emergency.
Course number three, if the simplest.
was the most unpleasant, so he was con-
strained to adopt number two: at least, pro-
YiSiOnauY.
Before his disgrace Hervey had occasion
ally done Some work for illustrated period
icals As this branch OF his late profession
seemed to offer him the best chance of sup
nIKy no paI lNi two
people whom be had known in former days,
and who moreover knew what had caused
his protracted absence He simply said he
was anxious to redeem the past, and begged
for helping hand Self 81 as the world is
supposed to be, there are many willing to
help fallen man on to his legs. Hervey
received one or two promises, which might
or might not lead to remunerative work.
The months passed very dismally and
drearily for the second seeker, Frank Car
ruthers. He knew not where to turn, where
10 look for Beatrice However, he was bet.
ter off than Hervey. for he had direct intel
hgence from her Once a month she had
written to her uncles, but her letters gave no
clew that could be followed. They bore no
address; they We're posted in London; they
mentioned no places not even a country.
She said she was living an exceedingly quiet,
calm life. She longed to see dear old Oak
bury again, and wondered if it would ever
be her lot to do so. In each letter she re
GREETED the necessity for the step she had
taken and hoped that Il ever her uncles knew
her true reason for it they would forgive her
She trusted, nevertheless, that they would
never learn il. The only hints at locality in
any one of her letters were that she men
toned that the weather was bitterly cold.
and also that she spent much time studying
art; was, indeed, learning to paint in oils.
These letters Herbert, who felt sympathy
for his cousin. sent on to Frank, and Frank
perused them again and again, endeavoring
by the light he had gained to read between
the lines And the more ne read the more
rnystifed he became If Mrs. Rawlings tale
was true, there was something which Her
bert and Horace never could, never would
forgive; yet Beatrice wrote as if forgiveness
was not an impossibility. Moreover, it
struck Frank that her words expressed a
doubt as to whether her uncles had learned
the reason for her fight When should he
find herr When should he learn the whole
truth!
He searched her letters in vain for his
own name, for any message to him. The
omission troubled hin, not because be
thought himself forgotten, but because it
showed him that BEATRICE felt tbore was
fate, which nothing could overcome, keeping
them apart So her letters gave him no
hope.
Had he been an idle man Frank Carruthers