The morning news., 1889-03-03
CHAPTER XII


Seaforth's eager, anxious inquiries with
very troubled hear
Cd have some advice, Miss Forth, urged
the young man, when he had wrung from
Frances lips that Ruth was confined to bed,
and totally unfit to see him. But the elder
sister dare not send for doctor, knowing
well that any practiced eye would at once
perceive that it was some acute mental
shock which had totally Frustrated Ruth.
1t was indeed pitiable to see her. The
poor girl lay with white clammy face, and
wide open hopeless eyes. and neither spoke
nor noticed anything around her.
In vain Frances tried to rouse her; in vain
told her anything she thought would inter-
est or sooth her.
Don't talk to me, please" was all her an
swer.
'My heart is broken" she told herself
many and many time, moaning and turn
ing on her pillow, which was often wet with
tears.
Yet she made no complaint nor protest
in words. 1t was her silent sufferings
which moved Frances hardened worldly
heart and yet she always reiterated to her
self that there was no help for it, that the
only thing now to be done was for Ruth TO
marry Maj. Audley.
She did not tell Ruth that the drawing
room down stairs was filed with flowers
that Seaforth had sent; Col. Kenyon also
sent Ruth flowers, and was very grieved to
hear Of the illness of the pretty girl. he
hoped soon to call bis young sister. He,
too, urged Frances to send for the doctor,
but Frances said it was nothing and that it
would soon pass away.
"You are looking i'll and anxious. too, my
dearest" Kenyon said to Frances. the second
day of Rutb's illness
In truth, Frances had been not a little
shocked and mortified to hear of the "acci-
dent which had happened to young 3eaton
at the fort Her father had rushed in full
Of it, the day after it occurred, and had
g )ne down at ouc7 10 inquire particulars
Frances turned a little sick and faint, for
the colonel had brought in a somewhat ex-
aggerated account which was current in
the village. BIT. after his visit to the fort,
her lni1l was $ 'mewhat relieved.
Col Forth had seen Audley, who told him
"the stupid b1yn ha had n very narrow eS-
c'pe, through his own carel5 isness. Frances
did noc qUta believe this. but She breathed
sigh of relief, and was thankful poo
Beat1n was not very much injured. In her
heart she was more than half convinced
that Be1ton had tried to kill himself for her
sake. and this idea as not without q subtle
char 20 her
Poor dear boy" she thought many a
time and S.ut her father down every morn
ing 20 inquire how lie vas. He did not
get on very well; he mad lost a great
deal # blood, and was very low and de
spoTdi e.
Il believe the poor fellow has something
on his mind" al last DR.. Murry said to
Mai Audlev and Seaforth.
Perhaps he's in debt or In love-" an
swered Audley, grimly; but Seaforth did
not speak.
He spent many hours daily by Beaton's
bedside, and felt the sincerest and kindliA
est ity for him.
Beaton never spoke of his accident" :"
and gradually Seaforth drew his own con
ciuSions. He had been cut to the heart by
Frances Forth's engagement, and in his
first bitter anguish had tried to shoot him
self.
He noticed also that Beaton was never
left alone If hs went to his room he was
sure to find the doctor there or his servant
Wilson. Maj Audley had given orders to
this effect, and they were fully carried out;
and, though he never spoke of it, SeafOrth'
saw very plainly that poor Beaton was close
ly watched.
Frances nth asked Seaforth about him
with unmstakable interest the next time
she saw him after Beaton's accident
Seaforth had called to inquire after Ruth,
and almost the first words Frances said to
him we're about Beaton.
"How is her she said
gravely, for he felt not little angry with
Frances, whom he believed had trihed
with poor Beaton's feelings for her own
amusement.
"Will you tell him from me-" said
Frances how dreadfuly sorry | am-more
than sorryl l would write to him, only one
never knows into whose hands letter may
fall; unless you would promise to give it to
him yourSelfT
At bod ,aN 10
Forth" said Seaforth. still more gravely;
lit would only disturb him, and DIR. Muir
raw says he is to be kept perfectly quiet
Frances took the hint, which she quite
understood, but she thought it rather for
ward of Seaforth to give it, She also felt
rather afraid of this young man, and
shrank somewhat from the gazs of his hon
est eyes. She was playing him false, too. she
knew, for she had Kept back two letters
which he had written to Ruth, thinking
their receipt would but add to the pain of
their enforced parting. But. strange TO
say, it was the thought of these letters
which first reused Ruth from her apathy.
1t had occurred to her grief-shadowed mind
that Kenard Seaforth wns almost sure to
have written. to her, and she asked Frances
if this were so, and saw by her manner that
Frances was keeping something back.
"He has written, and you have not given
me his latters" she said, Indignantly. "Do
you think this ju.t and right"
81 thought perhaps they might worry
you, " answered Frances, with blush.
"How could his letters worry me-" cried
poor Ruth, with a despairing ring in her
voice "Give them to me, Frances-nothing
can make any difference TO me now"
So Frances was obliged TO produce the
two letters, which she fain would have kept
back. She did not understand that they
could do Ruth any good. and yet they did.
1t was something to the poor girl to feel
them lying against her breast; to know that
his hand had penned the tender words. She
had 10 part from him, but she would al
WAYS love him, she told herself, and she
prayed God that he also would not quite for
get her.
She had a loyal, faithful heart, and she
knew, or at least thought she knew, that
her love could never change. But she saw
living there, looking blanS sly into the future,
that there was no hope for them. For
Frances sake, nay for her own, and even for
Kenard's, she must fulfill her promise TO
Mai. Audley now. And even IL he set her
free, she felt il would be dishonorabe TO
marry Kensrd. No, she must give him up,
but sue could not cease 70 love him. ALI
the old happy dreams Of long life time TO-
gether, OF the fond hand-clasp in veal aud
woe wero now ended But she had his
memory left to her the memory Of brave,
true, honest love, and this no new tie could
take away. Maj. Audley might force her
TO marry him, for Ruth knew she was pow
erless in his hands but he could not force
her 70 give him what she had given Ken