The weekly tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1891-1894, 1891-03-14

jolly as y cricket" he went on; and now
there came a mellowness into his hazel
eyes as he fixed them on Brenda's face
and softly added, "~including the lowell.
est sister on the face of the earth"
Brenda blushed and gave her golden
head a little mutinous toss. She had
reached the feminine age that often re.
sents broad compliments as tiresome.
and a trifie vulgar besides. But if Ger
aid could have seen, by some clairvoy-
ant wizardry, how her heart was futter-
ing at the thought of such high praise
from his lips he might perhaps have
failed to regret the rather intimate bold
ness of what he had just said. Some
times he told himself that he rebelled
ungraciously against Brenda's assump-
ton of the grown up young lady, and
again he would feel indignant flushes
that she should find it in her heart to
alter their old, careless relations by q
distance and ceremony which depressed
and chilled.
"Confound it," he once said to Louis,
Brenda acts as if we'd never sat in the
same swing together, and made voyages
with II heels up among the birds
nests, not to speak of letting the old cat
die with our arms quite unnecessarily
about one another's waists"
Louis smiled. "Oh, don't be annoyed
at Brenda's airs" he returned. 81 dare
say all young girls put them on in album
dance. Besides, If she now and then
seems distract, Gerald, it's no doubt be-
cause she's worried at the way our poor
father goes on failing worse and worse
from week to week."
The Bonds were now back in their
charming country place, and u short
time after they had quilted town to
come thither Crawford Bond rapidly
sank and died. The funeral was held in
q quiet country church not far from
Shadyshore, though many prominent
New Workers came up by train to attend
1t. Afterward the body wa inferred in
a family vault on the Bond estate-a
massive granite mausoleum which the
late proprietor had caused to be built
soon after purchasing Shadyshore, and
to which the remains Of his wife had
long ago been consigned.
The funeral threw a terrible gloom
over Louis. He had loved his father
dearly, and yet Gerald soon saw that
the young mans torpor and sadness
were not solely a product of bereave-
ment. 1t was plain that Louis hardly
had enough will power to concern himself
with those immediate tasks which the
administration of his fathers affairs de-
manded. Gerald assisted his tagging
energies as much as proved possible. and
finally induced him TO take u short sum
mer trip among the northern lakes.
Brenda was deeply gratified by this plan,
and gave Gerald certain thankful words
and looks because of it that divinely re-
hauteur.
For a time the spirits of Louis under.
went a change. The weather in Mon
treal, on the st. Lawrence and on Lake
Superior CHANGED to be delicious. and
there were hours, If not actual days,
when his companion felt hopeful that
the somber cloud had permanently lifted
from his soul. Then the old indifference
and dreariness would take hold of him
once more, and at last, by the time of
their return to Shadyshore. it became
evident that he was really no better than
he had been when they started.
81 am haunted with an idea" he sud
denly announced to Gerald one evening.
as the two friends We're seated together
in a monastic. high wainscOted. book
lined room, which was the perfection of
a library. sit never leaves me. | have
not told it to you or to any one. And
yet you are. of all people, the one whom
it would seem most closely to concern"
Gerald felt a sort of light SILVER pass
through his frame. He had long dreaded
lest some insanity might be at the root
of his friends peculiar behavior, and
there now seemed in Louis lone and de.
meanor not positive confirmation Of
such fears. but at least the delicate and
mysterious prophecy of it.
"Haunting ideas should be treated
with extreme rudeness," he now said, in
a voice gayer than were his furtive feel
ings. when they're morbid, Lou, they
should I've insulted up and down, and
given the most inhospitable notice to
quit"
Louis shook hi, head with a low, deep
sigh. Though the open window near
which he sat glimmered the placid level
Of Long Island sound, blue in the slant
afternoon sunshine as though it had been
one INDUSTRIOUS slabof polished ~turquois,
and frinyed at its rocky shore with dark
bosks of cedar, large leaved hickories
and small, vet stalwart, oaks. Louis let
his eyes traverse the rolling lawn and
then rest on the exquisite sea view be-
yond. Presently, in a musing voice, ne
said:
"You have never told Inc, once and
for all, Gerald. whether or no you be-
lieve in the immortality of the soul. Do
you;"
Gerald looked puzzled for al instant.
"You know it isn't much in my line.
Lou, to think ut all ON these questions"
he at length said. "I'm sure" he went
on, 'it's my most earnest hope that we're
immortal after death. As for my be.