Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-12-07
BY WILLIAM BL A K,
A NOVEL DEALING WITH CONTEMPORARY LIFE
WRITTEN FOR THE DISPATCH.

talked little about you and your affairs
YOU NAV be sure with only the one wish in
our minds. Hubert thinks you are over
tagged; that you are too close in your attend
ance at the House; and that you should give
up your newspaper-writing for time. l
wish it were no more than that. But
suspect there is something else"
Aunt" said he, interrupting her-and
vet with something of a tired air, "do you
think there is any use in talking, and in
quiring, and suggesting? What has hap
pened, has happened. 1t is something you
don't understand; and something you
couldn't put right-with all your good
wishes"
Eyes, yes" she said eagerly, for she was
reioiced to find that he took her interference
so amiably: "that is quite right; and mind
you, don't forget the agreement we came
TO at Brighton, that a certain subject should
never be referred to by either of us. quite
remember that; and you know L have never
sought to return to it again In any way
whatever. But your looks yesterday, Vim,
frightened me; and at this moment-why,
you are not like my dear boy at all. wish
in all seriousness you had come over to
Paris with us-vou and Louie-and gone
with us to the Mediterranean; we should
not have allowed you TO fall into this con-
dition-"
"Oh, I'm we'll enough, aunt!" said he.
"You are not wellp' she insisted, "And
why? Because your mind is i'll at ease"
"And very little comfort have to hope
for from you," said he, remembering former
conversations; but there was no bitterness
in his tone-only sort OF resigned hope
lessness.
'Now, that is not fair, Vin" she pro-
tested. off said things 10 you you did
l. lol II h,,N, r., ,,2t
ness? And now, at this moment, If I re-
open the subject, ii 1 ask you to be allowed
to reopen that subject, it is not the kind of
comfort you apparently hope for that am
prepared to bring you, but something quite
different 1 should like to heal your mental
ailment, once and for all, by convincing you
of the truth"
Eyes, think we have heard something OF
that sort on previous occasions" he said,
rather scornfullv 1.-THE truth as it is in
George Morrisl Well, will tell you what
would be more useful, more to the point,
and more becoming. Before saying any
thing further about that old man and his
granddaughter, think you ought to go and
seek them out, and 60 down on your knees
to them and ask their pardon"
For what?"
"For what you have already said OF them
and suspected"
"Really you try nv patience too much"
she exclaimed, with some show of temper.
"What have l said or suspected of them
that was not amply justified by the account
of them that your father offered to show
you? Of course you wouldn't look at it.
Certainly not? Facts are inconvenient
things, most uncomfortable things, where
ones prepossessions are involved. But
had no objection to looking at it"
81 suppose not!' said he.
"And NV eyes were not blinded: could
accept evidence when it was put before me-"
''Evidence!" he repeated. "You forget
that have been across the Atlantic since
that precious document was compiled.
heard how that evidence had been got; 1
could see how it could be perverted to suit
the malignant theories of q pack of de-
tectives. And if ] came back with any
settled conviction, it was that you and one
or two others-myself, too, in a way-could
do no better than go and humble ourselves
before that old man and that girl, and beg
for their forgiveness, and their iorgetful-
ness of the wrongs and insults we have put
upon them"
"Oh, this is beyond anythingp' she cried
rather losing command of herself. "You
drive me to speak again. Everything your
father and l could think OF was tried to
patient neutrality-suspicious. of money
representations that would have convinced
any sane person. Nothing was of any use.
What was to be done next? Well, we could
only buy up those honorable persons-who
were not adventures in any kind of way
oh certainly noti-but all the same they
were willing to be bought; and so. on pay
ment of substantial consideration, they
agreed to pack up their traps and be off.
What do YOU think Of that? What do you
say to that? Where was the old gentle
mans indom table pride?-where was the
girls pretended affection for you?-when
they consented to take good round sum of
money and be of? How can you explain
that away?'
She regarded him with certain defiance
for she was moved to anger by his OBJ
duracy. But if she expected him to vince
under this sudden stab she was mistaken.
"How do 1 know that this is true?" he
said, calmly. r..
81 am not in the habit of speaking un-
truths" she said, drawing herself up.
"Oh, of course not" he answered. "But
all through this matter there has been q
good deal of twisting about and misrepre-
sentation. I should like to know from
whom Mr. Bethune got this money-and in
what form."
Well, she was prepared.
az suppose you would be convinced, said
she, ''if 1 showed you the receipts receipt
for e5, ,0O0-which he signed and gave to
George Morris?"
"Where is that receipt" he asked.
"In this house. will go to your father,
ard get it. Shall ask him at the same
time for those old documents which you
would not read? Perhaps all taken togethe,
they might enable you to realize the truth
at last"
"No, thank you," said he, coldly. 81
know how those other documents were pro-
cnred. shall be glad to see the receipt"
,iShe hurried away, anxious to strike while
the iron was hot and certainly she had al
ready made a profound impression. And
SO she had, in one way, ali unknowing
When she left the room, he remained stand.
ing, gazing blankly at the sides of the book,
on the table, outwardly impassive, but with
his brain working rapidly enough. He
made no manner OF doubt that she coulC
produce this receipt. He took it for granted
that George Bethune had accepted the
money. OF course, Maisrie had nothing t.
do with it; her grandfather kept her il
ignorance of his pecuniary affairs; and il
would be enough for him to say that she
must go away with him from England-she
was obedient in all things. And no doubt
the old man had been csjoled and fatter ed
into believing he was acting justly and il
the best interests of everyone concerned
there could have been little difficulty abou
that; he himself was quick to persuade him
sell of anything that happened to fall il
with the needs of the moment. All thi,
Vincent understood at once. But when ht
came to consider that it was hisown relative,
who had brought upon him all the Ions
torture and suffering of these bygons