Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-04-27
CHAPTER XXVI.
A FLYING TRIP TO LONDON.

A FLYING TRIP TO LONDON.
The scene that followed Mr.. Davies
blunt demand for the hand of Beatrice ma.
well be passed over lightly. Indignant Il
spirit and with a sense Of the eonsplrac,
against her, Beatrice promptly declined tn
profered honor.
Her sister, Elizabeth, anxious in her Jeal
ousy to reduce Beatrice to the lowest level II
Mr.. Davies esteem, bluntly charged he
sister with improper intimacy with Geotfrel
Bingham and detailed the events of that un
fortunate night. With blanched face, bu
calm demeanor, Beatrice denied the accuse
ton. She explained that she had been walk
ing in her sleep; that she had, as 1t hap
pened, walked into Mr.. Bingham's room
but beyond that the insinuations of her Sis
ter we're absolutely false. She disdalned tc
discuss the question further.
Next day was Sunday. Beatrice did moi
90 to church. For one thing, she feared to
see Owen Davies there. But she took her
Sunday school class as usual, and long did
the children remember how kind and pa
tient she was with them that day, and how
beautifully she told them the story OF the
Jewish girl of long ago, who went forth to
die for the SAX of her fathers oath.
Nearly all the rest OF the day and evening
she spen: in writing that which we shall
read in time-only in the late afternoon she
went out for little while In her canoe.
Another thing Beatrice did also; she called
at the lodging Of her assistant, the head
school teacher, and told her that it was pos
sible that she would not be in her place on
the Tuesday MONDAY was, as it chanced,
holiday. If anybody inquired as to her
absence perhaps she would kindly tell them
that Miss Granger had an appointment to
keen. and had taken a morning. holiday IN
order to do so. She should, however, be
hack that afternoon. The teacher assented
without suspicion, remarking that If she,
beatrice. could not take mornings holi-
dav- she was sure she did not know who
could.
Next morning they breakfasted very early,
because Mr.. Granger and Elizabeth had ar
ranged TO visit Hereford. Beatrice sat
through the meal in silence, her calm eyes
looking straight before her, and the others,
gazing on them and at the lovely, inscruta-
bic face, felt an indefnable fear creep into
their hearts. What did this woman mean
to do? That was the question they asked of
themselves, though not of each other. That
she meant to do something they were sure,
for there was purpose written on every line
Of her cold face.
Suddenly, as they sat thinking and max
ing pretense to eat, thought flashed like an
arrow into Beatrice's heart and pierced it.
This was the last meal that they would ever
take together, this was the last time that she
could ever see her fathers and her sisters
faces. For her sister, well, it might pass
for there are some things which even a
woman like Beatrice can never quite forgive
but she loved her father. She loved his
very faults, even his simple avarice and
self-seeking had become endeared to her by
long and wondering contem plation. Be
sides, he was her father; he gave her the life
she was about to cast away. And she should
never see him more. Not on that account
did she hesitate in her purpose, which was
now set in her mind, like Bryngelly Castle
on its rock, but at the thought tears rushed
unbidden to her eyes.
Just then breakfast came to an end, and
Elizabeth hurried from the room to fetch
her bonnet
Father" said Beatrice, ''if you can be-
fore you go, 1 should like to hear you say
you do not believe that told you what was
ialse-about that story"
"Eh, ehl'' answered the old man, nery-
ouslv, 81 thought that we had agreed to say
nothing about the matter at present.
"Yes, but l should like to hear you say it,
father. 1t cuts me that you should think
that / would lie to you, for / have never
wilfully in my life told you what was not
true;" and she clasped her hands about his
arm, and looked into his face.
He gazed at her doubtfully. Was it pos
slble that after all she was speaking the
truth? No; it was not possible.
81 can't Beatrice" he said-''not that I
blame you overmuch for trying to defend
yourself; cornered rat will show fight"
MAY you never regret those words" she
said; land now goodby," and she kissed
him on the forehead.
At this moment Elizabeth entered, saving
fhnt it was time to start, and he did not re-
turn the kiss.
Good-by, Elizabeth" said Beatrice.
stretching out her hand, But Elizabeth
affected not to see it, and in another moment
they we're gone. She followed them to the
gate and watched them till thev vanished
down the road. Then she returned, her
heart strained almost to bursting. But she
wept no tear.
Thus did Beatrice bid last farewell to
her father and her sister.
Elizabeth" said Mr.. Granger, as thev
drew near to the station. "I am not easy in
my thoughts about Beatrice There was
such strange look in her eyes; it-in short, |
il frightens me. have half a mind to give
MP Hereford and go back, and he stopped |
on the road, hesitating.
As you like" said Elizabeth, with a |
sneer, hut should think that Beatrice is |
big enough and bad enough to look after
hersel ="
Before the God who made u.s." said the
I'D man iuriously, and striking the ground |
with his stick, "she may be bad, but she is |
lot SO bad as you who betrayed her. If |
Beatrice is Magdalene, you are a woman
Judas, and believe that you hate her and /
would be glad to see her dead.''
Elizabeth made no answer They were