The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1889-11-03

any way, peopfc ofo cotipeue1r IN spite OF
his previous character. IN spite OF
his aoauittal, in spite in fact evea
of probability 20 consider him guilty. Oncs
shown that therc Is at least reasonable
ground for suspicion against another,
aud the opinion, at any rate OF all who
know Mervyn, would at once veer round"
Every well, father; now you have done
your part OF the WORK by finding out the
clue. Ell will do mine by following il I'D.
Fortunately, Rath Powlstt is & very sups-
rior sort Of girl 10 any one in the village,
and / can make friends with her heartily
and without pretence. l should have found
il very hard if she had been a rough sort of
girl. but she expresses herself Just as well
as 1 do and seems very gentle and nice.
One can see that even that sharp voiced
step-mo. her of he Is is very fond of her. and
she is the ample of the miller's eve. But
YOU must not be impatient, father; two
girls can't become great friends all at once"
81 think. on the whole, Miss Armstrong, !"
her father said, ''you are quite as likely to
become impatient as ! am, seeing that il is
your business much more than mine.n
"Wel, you may be sure shall not lose
more time than l can help, father" Mary
Armstrong laughed. "You don't know
how JOYOUS | feel tonight. have always
been hopeful, but it did seem SO vague be-
fore. Now that we have got what we
think to be a clue and can set to
work at once, 1 feel ever SO much nearer
to seeing Ronald again
The consequence Of shis conversation was
that Mary Armstrong went very frequently
down to the mill and induced Ruth Pow
lett, sometimes. TO come up and sit with
her.
"I am very glad, Mr.. Armstrong"
Hiram Powlett said, one evening, when
they happened to be the first two to arrive
| in the snuggery, that my Ruth seems to
take to your daughter. It's a real comfort
to Hesba and me. You would have thought
that she would have taken to some of the
| girls she went to school with, but she hasn't.
are too noisy for her. Anyhow, until now
she has never had friend and, think, it
will do her a world of good. It's bad for
| girl to be alone, and especially a girl like
Ruth don't mind telling you Mr. Arm
strong, that Hesba and have an idea that she
has got something on her mind, she has been
so changed altogether since Miss Carne's
murder. | might have thought that she
fretted about that scamp Forester going
away, for at one time the girl was very fond
of him, but before it happened she told me
| that she had found out that she was wrong,
| and that she would break it off altogether
with him; SO you see don't think that his
gong away had anything to do with it.
Once or twice thought she was going to
say something particular to me, but she
has never said it, and she sits there and
broods aud broods till it makes my he art
| ache to see her. Now she has got your
daughter to be friends with, perhaps she
may shake it off,"
81 hope she may, Mr. Powlett. It's a
bad thing for girl 10 nope. l know Ma ry
likes your daughter very much. Perhaps,
if she has anything on her mind, she will
tell Mary one OF these days. You see,
A. H.
| hearts to each other as they won't do to
any one else"
81 don't see what she can have on her
mind" the miller said, shaking his head.
''It may only be a fancy Of mine. Hesba
and have talked it over score of timssn
every likely it's nothing, after ALL" Mr..
Armstrong said; girls get strange fancies
| into their heads, and make mountains out
| of mnlehills. 1t may b. nothing after all
still, psrhaps she would be all the better for
the telling of it."
Hiram Powlett shook his head. Ruth
isn't a girl to have fanciss," he said. "1f
she is fretting she is fretting over
| something serious. | don't know why
1 am talking 50 to you Mr.. Armstrong, for
l have never spoken to any one else about
| it; but your daughter seems to have
taken SO kindly to Ruth that it seems natu-
raj for me to speak to you"
|
lett, and hope that good may come from
| our talk.
1t was not until fortnight after this chat
| that Mary had anything to communicate
| to her father. She had told him that whenever
| she turned the conversation upon the topic
| of the murder of Miss Carne, Ruth evidently
shraLk so much from it that she was obliged
| to change the subject
To-day, father, took the bull by tho
| horns. Ruth had been sitting there for soma
| time working without saying a word, and
asked her suddenly, as If it was what had
been thinking over while we were silent
What is your opinion, Ruth? Do you
think that Capt Mervyn really murdered
his cousnr She turned pale. She has
| never much color. you know, but she wen: as
white as a sheet, and then said, Il am quite
sure that he did not do it, but / don'G like
| talking about it No, of course not
said. 4 can quite understand that after the
| terrible shock you had. Still it is awful to
boon driven away from his horne and made
an outcast of if he is innocent 1t
serves him right Ruth said pas
| sionately. 'How dare he insult
| and threaten my dear Miss Margaret
Nothing is too bad for him. Il can't quits
agree with you there l said. No doubt
he deserved to be punished, and he must
nave peeu puulSneQ ny D9luR brl6u LOT MS
| cousins murder; but to thiuk of man
spending all his life, branded unjustIy with
the crime of murder Ia something too ter
rible to think off, 4 dare say he is doing
very we'll, she said, aftsr pause. Doing
WE'LL said,, doing Welt What eau you
be thinking Of, Ruthf What sort Of doing
we'll can there be fora man who knows a.
any moment that he may be recognized,
that his story may. be whispered about,
and tnat his neighbors may shrink away
from him; that his wife, If he
ever marries, may come to believe that
her husband is a murderer, that his chill
dren may bear the curse Of Cain upon them.
1t is too terrible TO thiuk OF. If Capt
Mervyn is guilty. he ought to have been
hung; if he is innocent, he is one Of the
most unfortunate men in the world Ruth
didn't say anything. but she was so terribly
white that thought she was going to faint
She tried to get up, but | could see she
couldn't, and ran and got her a glass of
water. Her hand shook 50 that she could
hardly hold it to her lips. After she drank
some she sat for minute or two quiet, then
she murmured something about sud1el
faintness, and that she would go home. per
suaded her to stay few minutes longer. At
last she got up Il am subject to fainting fits
she said; it is very silly, but cannot, help
it, Yes, perhaps what you say
about Capt. Mervyn is right.
but 1 never quite saw it so before.
Good-by,' and then she went off,
though could see she was scarcely able to