Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1889-09-21

| BuU ne nau u SOTU OF cluiIlSy TACT
and he wooed the girl through hel
father, talking of what he would dc
If he had the invalid in his care
sending flowers and fruit to the cot
tage, and all the while hating Pau
Grierson as a coarse mind hates 6
refined one, smarting under a sense
of inferiority, though he called the
Griersons beggars in his heart.
1 think had Paul Grierson known
all that was in his daughters heart
as she stood under the apple tree he
would have hidden her go to the
river, leave him for the suicides LOT
rather than put her hand In that OF
Cuthbert Holmes and swear 10 love
and honor him. But he guessed
nothing of this crowniDg act of self.
sacrifice the girl meditated.
He looked from the window and
saw her standing quietly alone, and
said, gently:
"Shall we walk to the grove,
darling?"
"Do you feel strong enough?" she
asked, coming quickly to his side.
at is not far, and sleep better
after walk"
She wrapped him carefully in a
soft travelling shawl, brought him a
taste of wine in tiny glass, and
gave him her arm, only stronger
than himself in the fact that there
was no disease i'm her young frame,
only the wearincss Of hunger and
suffering.
They walked slowly TO the grove,
cluster Of trees upon the public
common, and where one bench at
the foot of IA gigantic oak tree was u
favoritc resting place. They were
hidden there from passers-by upon
the narrow foot-path, and when
May had made cushion of an old
shawl, that would keep her fathers
feeo from the ground, they both fell
into deep, contented silence; the
girl crouched at her fathers feet,
and his hand softly stroking her
glossy, brown curls.
think the greatest blessing was
the power both possessed to lift
themselves ut such times above
realistics, put their sordid life far
away, and live again in their past,
or make II new world of poetic and
artistic imaginings. Somewhere in
dreamland they were resting for
their brief holiday, when harsh
voice from the other side of the
great oak tree reused them. Only
too well both knew those hard
tones, as Cuthbert Holmes said:
"She'll marry me fast tenough when
| ask her; and rs to her father, I'm
not quite such n fool rs to burden
myself with a sick man. I'll take
May off fora wedding trip, and keep
her Till the old man" The voice
was growing faint in the distance,
and they heard no more.
But Paul Grierson's eyes were
fixed upon the white, white face ut
his knee with such terror that she
cried:
"Oh, forgive me! forgive me! 1t
was for your sake!
"For my sake, May! Would you
have married that--that brute to
help me? Child! child! l weuld
sooner strike you dead than give
you up to him!
81 know" she said, with chok-
ing sob. "But he was always talk
ing of what you ought to have,
what would do you good, rs If he
only wanted the right to provide
every comfort and luxury for you.
Oh, father! how can we be thankful
enough that we heard him."
But Paul Grierson was too deeply
shocked to realize Mays escape.
at could not be long for me, dear
est" he said, holding her hand In
close clasp; "Only n few months OF
ease or rest; but for you lifelong
agony. Promise me, promise me,
May, that you will never yield to
such temptation again for my
sake"
~ promise. We may suffer, but
Il will be together, Oh, 10 think
he would have parted us, and left
you to" Aud II shudder finished
the sentence.
But even then, In her relief aud
pain, May gave no hint of those
visions of rest under the river that
had been the dream of release.
surely heaven had saved her once,
.nd some way would open for the
future the girl bounded
py her fathers life. Beyond that |
the dread which never |
Ell her. May had no thought OF n
lture.
Dusk Was gathering when Paul 1