Iuka reporter. (Iuka, Miss.) 1888-1894, 1890-10-30
THE
LITTLE WAIP.
A Story Of Absorbing Interest.
ny BERNARD HERBERT.
lCHApTER XVII.

danger which menaces himl"
And in pursuance of the determine
ton she left the house about noon OF
her last day in New York, and, without
saying word to good Mrs. Bancker,
made her way across town to the ele.
waited railway and took train up ia
Harlem.
She felt timid, almost terrified ia
find herself in the noisy streets alone
and unprotected, but the bravery Of
her object in view braced up her heart,
and she went on in safety until she
paused upon the steps of the little
house she knew and loved SO we'll.
With a start of apprehension, she
noticed that the shutters of the studio
were tightly closed, and that the house
generally wore deserted air.
With hand trembling with dread
she pulled the bell, and was not a little
relieved moment or two later to hea,
footsteps within advancing to answer
her summons.
The door opened and Mrs. Arnim ap.
peared.
"Oh, Mrs. Arnim!" she exclaimed.
then paused, chilled to the core of her
being by the woman's strange look.
"Oh, is it you? What do you want ?"
she demanded.
Rupert! l wish to see Rupert!"
HE has gone away"
when will he return?"
II do not know; not for days, and
perhaps for weeks"
ooh, what shall / do?"
"You seem to do very we'll without
him."
The bitter reproach fell upon deaf
ears. Poor little Oracle was busy hast
lily brushing the tears of disappoint.
ment from her eyes.
II am going away, too" she faltered
land l did SO want to see him before
left. Did he leave no word, no message
Tor me?"
Mrs. Arnim started suddenly, an.
swering:
"Yes, here is letter"
She turned to table handed
Oracle letter, and while the boo,
child pressed it to her lips fervently,
closed the door upon her.
What to do then but go away? Evi.
dentlysshe was not wanted there. With
a sinking heart she turned back into
the street, and with her tear-flled ewes
riveted upon the missive, she wandered
ON until she found herself at the en-
trance of a pretty park-Mount Morris
Park-where the laughter of merry
children invited her to enter and rest.
Selecting sunny seat, she sank down
upon it, murmuring:
Now, Rupert, what have you to
say?"
She had never seen the handwriting
of the man she loved, consequently she
was deceived by the bold forgery which
met her eyes.
Like lightning she read the cruel
words within; re-read them, and then
staggered to her feet, with q scream of
wild dismay.
Beating the air with her arms in her
blindness, she endeavored to reach the
gates by which she had entered, but
ere she gained them, she staggered.
wavered an instant, and fell PROSTATE
upon the sandy walk, like one stricken
with death.
She did not hear the affrighted cries
of the children, nor the voice of man
who called to park-keeper.
Quick Summon an ambulance n
This woman is dving!"
Milton is one of the weaithiest and
most beautiful, and yet, in parts one Of
the loneliest suburbs of Boston.
Among its wooded hills and valleys,
one feels lost in the deep country,
while it seems hard to believe that a
great city throbs almost within gun
shot of its silent retreats.
For miles around the lofty "Blue
HILL crested with it's solitary stone
tower, commands an unimpeded pros
pect of hill and dale, of dense forest
and sunny pasture, of winding river
and glimmering lake.
The district is the very flower Of
Massachusetts, and yet much of its ex.
tent is known only to the adventurous
sportsman and the wandering herd.
Enter it's empowered confines, and
you are as practically lost to the world
as though you had hidden yourself
in the recesses of Che trackless,
primeval forest.
1t was just at the base and in the
shadow of one of the great smoky hills.
that gloomy stone mansion of ample
proportions stood, and still stands. in
the midst of d natural park of oak
trees, whose melancholy rustic answer
ed to the lonesome g1irgle of little
brooks among the rocks.
These little brooks trickled down
from the hills, and were absorbed in a
large, placid sheet of water, popularity
called "Black Pond"
This lake bordered the lawn which
swept upward to meet the foundations
OF the lonely stone mansion. and with
Inc trees leatiess, the grass sere and |
brown, with chill north wind whining |
ilsmally down into the ravine. and NO |
Welcome smoke curling from the chin
'eys, no fire-light dancing upon the
huttered windows, the place was a
lace TO shun, and leave to the dead
nants.
And yet years ago it had been a
.ght and happy abode, when Grin
inord, then in the prime Of life. and
vast enjoyment Of wealth, had !
ought his fair young wife. Clar;ssa !
ne to be the idol Of an admirinr III.
Of friends. =
'or two years the house VI ana !
T. 12ZQIa qoxnro piooG, ~ -