The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1888-05-12

quiet. keeping himself SO much to his
usual labor that no difference WAS obs
served, and apparently leading tho
same existence as though he had not
rpon his soul the burden of a tremen.
dous secret and crime, and twenty-five
thousand dollars secreted in his house,
awaiting the time when he could de-
part without suspicion and Secure his
ill-gotten treasure elsewhere.
That time, he thought, was soon to
come. a
Since the day for bis daughter's
wedding had been fixed, his course
had appeared palmer to him.
With Jessica settled in life and re-
moved from his house, nobody could
think it strange that he should absent
himself from the neighborhood-for a
time, at least. Whether he should
ever return, later on, would depend,
He had reflected upon the possibility
that the married life of Edgar and his
daughter might not be happy, and that
something might occur in the future
TO cause the former to violate HE
pledge and betray the secret. Safety,
then, demanded that when Bryson
babe farewell to the vicinity of Ay.es-
worth and his daughter, it must proba
bly, be final farewell.
So true it was, that the crime and its
consequences had destroyed the little
good that was left in this mans heart.
The greed of money had almost sup
planted his affection for his child; it
had made him willing to sacrifice her
heart for his safety: to deceive her as
to his intentions, as he had already
done as to his crime; and to abandon
her forever.
The visits of Randall Belmont to
the house had uniformly been made
during his absence. He hated him,
not only because he was the son Of
Mason Belmont, but because he saw a
possible danger to his plans in these
visits.
He had sharply reproved his daugh-
ter for them. His reproofs had been
heard in silence, or with the reply that
she had only treated Mr.. Belmont po-
litely, and had never encouraged him
to come.
1t was on morning of the last week
of April that Bryson returned to the
house just after leaving it for his work.
Jess" he said, I've heard again Of
that fellow Belmont calling here since
the last time l spoke to you about it,
You know l don't like it. / hate the
fellow as | hated-but no matter You
are to marry Van Wyck in few days,
and he don't like to hear of these Wis
it's, as he does hear of them. The
officers and people that this Belmont
has been riding the country with for
the past six months know where he
goes when he is not with them; they
crack their jokes about it, and every
body hears of it. Van Wyck told
me-
She could not bear TO hear more of
this. She had been patient, she had
been faithful to her promise, and had
sacrificed her heart at her fathers bid
ding, but these repeated reproaches If
ritated her beyond endurance.
Father, don't talk like thatl" she
cried. You ought to know that /
never promised Edgar to marry him,
out of love. | don't love him; some
times | fear that | never can. He
asked me; you urged it; / was almost
weary of life, and ready for any change
that would remove me from this lonely
old ruin to more cheerful scenes, so |
promised But | don't wish to be re-
proved where / am not at fault; and,
if Edgar IS not satisfied, | will gladly
release him"
what" the father almost shouted,
aghast at the suggestion. Don't you
mean to marry him, after ALP"
81 tell you, do not carel I have
given my promise, and ] am ready to
fulfill it; but that is all / am weary
of your srispicions--and of Edgar's-
about Mr.. Belmont. | have not en-
couraged him to come here-and | have
no complaint to make about his COM
ing. He is a gentleman, and has treat
ed me accordingly. If he is to be for
hidden to come here, you must do it; I
shall not"
these two had not been known before.
The long pent-up fires were breaking
/ out.
"Girl," he savagely exclaimed, al
you dare to love that"
A red spot burned in her cheek. A
/ flood of tears relieved he.
Father, father! why will you be SO
unkind to me? He has never talked OF
such things to me; l could not listen
to him if he did. Do not tell you
that | mean to keep my promise? /
viii, if it kills me; and 1 will pray God
to forgive you for compelling it, and
me, for giving my hand where cannot
/ give my heart"
Her hands were before her face; her
feelings, pent up SO long by her strong
will beneath calm exterior, burst
forth in convulsive sobs.
A shadow Of Bryson's affection for
his child returned. He patted her
head in rude attempt to soothe her.
There, Jess don't mind what |
said. Maybe 1 was trife hasty in
finding fault with you; but do want
you to marry Edgar, and can't bear
that city upstart."
He stopped and kissed her.
The time came, ere long, when she
remembered this as her fathers last
kiss.
He went off to his accustomed work.
She sat down for few moments to
calm herself A horseman rode up to
the gate. She saw that he was Randall
Belmont.