The Press., 1891-12-17

bed. Mrs. Buggs followed, softly weep ing, and John Buck was left alone with Rebecca.
 Neither felt like indulging in the usual evening conversation. Father Buggs' eliminating ruin seemed to oppress them both. A long silence ensued. It was broken at last by Rebecca.
 ''Mr. Buck, how far is it to Kansas City2'
 John replied that it was about two hundred miles, <
 ''What will it cost to make the trip there and to returnw was her next ques- tion.
 ''About ten dollars"
 twill you lend me the money until I can make the journey!"
 ssWith pleasure" was his reply.
 He went into the house and returned in few minutes with ten dollar bill, which he laid in her lap. She choked several times before she could thanl: him. Then without word she turned and walked into the house.
 Next day she started out for a walk. When night came she was still absent. Mrs. Buggs began to show uneasiness. Thereupon John Buck told the uneasy mother that for some reason her daugh- ter had gone to Kansas City.
 Farmer Buggs did not notice the ab- sence of Rebecca. His mind was almost paralyzed with the one thought that the next day would be the first of Septem- Der, when ruin would at last claim him as victim.
 There was no work in the house or upon the farm next day. Mrs. Buggs sat rocking herself slowly while she wept silently behind, her apron. Jacob Buggs walked doggedly about waiting for the crash.
 Neither saw John Buck drive away in the red spring wagon. They did not notice his return until the voice of Re- becca aroused them from their gloom. She left John sitting in the wagon while she ran up the path and called cheerily:
 "Put on your coat, father, and let John drive you to Morgan's Mills. Re member, your notes are due today, and that interest must be paid"
 The old man turned to look at her with utter amazement.
 She laughed merily and shook some bank notes in his face.
 ''There's the money-three hundred dollars; so jump in the wagon and hurry off. The farm is yours for another year, and in a whole year you know many good things can occur"
 ;. "Three hundred dollars" gasped the old man. 'sWhy, child, where did you get it P
 stNever mind where got it. I had a pair of diamond earrings and watch yesterday. Both were useless out here, so long as diamonds are not fashionable and your. eight day clock keeps such good time. I was afraid the jewelry would be stolen, and so I ran down to Kansas City and sold it. There's the money. I'll lend it to you.
 "God bless my little girl,' groaned the old farmer as he snatched the bills from her hands.
 Ten minutes later the old gray mare was galloping back to Morgan's Mills un- der the magnetic urging of his masters whip.
 From that day Jacob Buggs' manners changed toward Rebecca. He made her his goddess, at whose shrine he paid the humble homage of his simple soul. She realized her new found power and made the most of it by setting out to remove some of the rugged corners from her parental rough diamond. He under stood her desires, and became willing though not an apt scholar.
 Another deep shadow fell upon Re becca's already dark life when she learn ed that John Buck had been engaged b, her father for only seven months work and that with the end of October h would leave the farm. She heard of i first from her mother. Buck confirmed the report when she went to him for z verifcation.
 He was going back to the east, ant would, perhaps, never come west again He had saved modest sum of money and was anxious to buy small farm o his own and provide home for himself Neither could she ever tell how it cam | about, but it was one o'clock that nigh before Rebecca and John put an end t their tete-a-tete on the porch and crep silently away to their rooms. Once more Rebecca jumped into he hammock-like bed, but this time it wa more spring of a light heart than tn | physical leap of necessity. Once nor, she laughed and cried by turns whil trying to go to sleep. Was she happy She would not admit it. She, an edu cated girl, who year before had dreamed l of luxury, society and 8 rich husband with an aristocratic name, had jus l promised to become the wife of a farn laborer by the name of Buck. Miss Bugg would not become Mrs. Fitzallyn or Mrs Montmorency, but it would be Mrs. Re becca Buck, and instead of living in l grand mansion surrounded by servants she would reign queen of a farm, sur rounded by chickens and pigs. No, sh | would not and could not admit that sh was happy in contemplating the futur she had just accepted. And yet-an' l yet-it was relief from the gloom. prospects to which she was slowly beini bound upon Buggs' farm. John Buck was an educated man ant had seen better days, she felt assured He was also handsome, manly, nobl l and good; that she must admit, and di, l admit, to her beating heart. Why should she belittle the offer of such man lovel What had she or was she that sh should aspire higher? Was he not he equal? What would she have been hat there never been an Uncle John? Thi thought gave her chill, which set he off in another fit of hysterical sobbing ending finally in deep sleep.
 She awoke next morning to a grea surprise and d deeper misery of sou than she had mp to that time been calle'
 upon to bear
 Conttnued next weekly The Lovef's Lament. l Your face is like 8 dropping flower, sweetheart t see you fading, hour by hour, l Sweetheartf Your rounded outlines waste away,
 In vain weep, in vain pray, | What power Deaths cruel hand can stay? tE Sweetheart | Sweethearti Why nothinp but Dr. Piefce,s FayOrit