The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1886-05-29


| order that he might live daily in the pres
| ence of a woman whom he never hoped tc
marry.
Margaret went to the end of the long
| lane, and, turning, her eyes rested upon q
scene full of quiet and beauty. Far AND
| near stretched her possessions: great woods
of maple and beech, broad pastures crossed
| by purling trout streams, immense stretches
! of meadows and cultivated fields. A little
| village of outhouses clustered around the
| stately farmhouse. and in the distance the
| spires of the city of showdown shone in the
| sunshine. To the right was an immense
| sweeping meadow, in which were groups
of working men and horses. 1t was the
closing of the hay harvest, and the last
| loads were ready to be trundled into the
great barns already bursting with re
pletion She waited, with happy smile
| for their approach, apd as they passed
| waved her handkerchief in recognition OF
| the cheers which greeted her. Her over
seer came and stood by her side. He was
physically the perfection of manhood; his
six feet of sinewy strength, his wide-parted
eyes and broad brow, around which
clustered his dark hair, making him seem
| utterly out of place in the position he occu
pied.
They turned and followed the loads Of
fragrant hay. Their talk was of the prosaiC
kind, whether it were better to sell butcher
Brown certain number of steers now, OF
| to let them have the range of the pastures
| longer As they entered the farmYard
| Mr.. Frederick Leasaws, who had been wait
| ing her return, came forward to meet them
He gave a scarcely perceptible nod TO Phil
who returned it with equal GOODNESS, as he
| turned and left them together.
81 think your foreman might make his
| fortune in side show, as a modern Go
| liath," the newcomer said as he extended
| his hand
dYayy bo oil col5Iu
81 shake hands with no one who traduce'
my friend, Mr.. Winter, u she answered, il
| frigid tone.
ut was an ungracious remark he re
turned, land beg your pardon for utter
ing it; but have come to consult you or
| some very urgent matters connected with
the bank; and | hope you will spare me 8
| few moments in some place where we shall
| not be liable to interruption"
"You may come into my little library,
| Margaret said, leading the way.
When once within its charmed precinct
where wealth and taste had exhausted
| themselves in decoration, Mr.. Leasaw'
continued
"My communication is too urgent tt
waste time in preliminaries; and yet
| hardly know how to introduce it. You
| have not forgotten that some two year.
| ago | did myself the honorof asking of you
| your hand in marriage, and that yoU
| panied me with refusal. 1t is very prob
able that to-day your sentiments, YOU
| feelings toward me, are not different from
| what they were at that time; but circum
| stances have arisen which make it seem
| best for me to renew that offer, and posi-
| bly, for you to consider it more favorably
| Please do not interrupt me, as you can moi
| give an intelligent answer until you have
| heard all have to say. You are the prin
| cipal owner in Chillson IL Co. am forced
| tn foil bof 70 do re will oil
| upon its customers for the last time that
| the concern is utterly bankrupt, with moi
| one cent to pay the claims of its depositors
amounting to somewhere near million Of
| dollars. | must confess that the fault is
| wholly mine, and that the evil is beyond
repairing. Tomorrow showdown will
walIen to a sensation unknown hitherto in
| its history"
| 1t would be difficult to describe the emo
| tions that swept through Margarets mind
as she listened to this terrible disclosure
| 1t seemed so incredible.
81 hardly know whatto say" she said al
| last. ''Your communication is so terrible
| that l can hardly believe it, and yet you
would not indulge in such a recital were il
not true. Do you really mean that you
| have not only exhausted the capital of the
| bank, but the funds of the depositors, and
| that all is ruinl'
81 just mean that
in the honored name of my father are all
losers! That must not be. My property
| outside of the bank will prove sufficient,
| trust, to pay the banks entire indebted
ness.n
Il fear you do not quite grasp the mag
| nltude of the situation" he answered, un.
easily. "Your property outside the bank
l regret to say, has gone with the rest; and
nothing but beggary is left, you. 1t was to
save you from this that | have come once
more to entreat you to marry me, to fly
with me to some place beyond pursuit,
where may in part make up to you the
wrong l have done you. If the depositors
of the bank are left unprovided for, | have
cared for you, and out of the wreck have
saved enough to insure your future we'll
being. Ineed not tell you how much love
you, far better than my own soul, and that
l would sooner die than have aught of dis,
comfort fall to your lot. | have made ev-
cry preparation for our fight; for 1 thought
there could be no question regarding your
decision between beggary and the future it
is in my power to make for you"
1t would be difficult to describe the emo
tions that thrilled Margaret's soul as she
listened to this insolent proposition. All
her nature arose up in repulsion.
You assume too much,n she cried with
blazing eyes. 'Oh far too much. If did
not love you, when, two years ago, you
asked for my hand, deeply respected you
To-day, and hereafter, | can only think of
you with the utmost adherence. You steal
my property and then have the effrontery
to ask me to share it with you. To be poor
is not to be disgraced; but to fly with you
would make my dead father turn in agony
in his grave" Then, suddenly checking
her anger, she added: 1T is worse than idle
to talk further with you,o and without
another word, Margaret turned and passed
into an inner room, closing the door behind
her, and leaving the man who had added
| insult to injury to his own reflections.
For a moment Mr.. Frederick Leasaws
| stood irresolute. He had expected some
what different termination to his inter.
view. He had judged Margaret from his
own plane of morals; and his standard had
proved far too low. He crumpled his hat
nervously in his soft white hands, then he
put it on his head, and, drawing the brim
well down over his eyes, he went out into
the sunshine. Taking no note of the bright
parterres of flowers, he walked between
them until he reached the gate, clambered
into his elegant open buggy, turning his
horse toward showdown, allowed that mag
nificent animal to take his own gait With
| his hand thrust nervously into his unbut
toned waistcoat, and his head bowed down
| he tried to remake plans for the future He
did love Margaret Chillson with all his
heart. He had first specialized in Wal
| Street with his own funds, in hopes of
| winning fortune equal to her own, and
thus enhancing the chances of winning heI
hand; but, instead of increasing his for
| tune, he had lost it all, and so had gone on
in the way of hundreds before him, until
| the bank itself was wrecked. Though he
| had told Margaret that her private for
| tune was also gone, he had for the sake oil
| gaining his ends, told her an untruth. He