The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1892-04-14

anger, and in her hour Of despair she
took the step that brought dreariness
into two YES for many years after.
Where cou d she 60? TO whom could
she turn? There was only one-her
father. He would share her grief.
The wind was bowling dismally
without, an appropriate accompani-
ment to the storm that was raging
within Margarets heart. She went to
the window and drew up the curtain.
The pitchy darkness awed her. The
first great drops of shower were
splashed against the window pane and
they startled her. With no light in the
room, she stood gazing out into the
ominous darkness of the night. A ter
rible sense of her loneliness was steal
ing over her, for she knew that her
husband would not return for nearly
three hours She was startled from her
dream by fash of lightning, and then
the harsh clap of thunder which fol-
lowed made her recoil and draw the
draperies of the window about her.
Another fash soon followed, and by its
sudden light she saw their carriage
coming up the driveway. She started
and muttered: Eyes, Just the thing"
So, turning quickly, she rang the bell
for her maid.
Tell Michael not to unharness VET -
she said.
Yes, madam" replied the maid,
with an incredu]ous stare.
mo. You may rather tell him to be
at the porch door in ten minutes"
shall return to you them"
NO. l do not need your help
With that the maid withdrew, and
Margaret fastened to her room.
Throwing on her cloak, she started
down the stairs, but, remembering the
children, she fastened back. The
little Dorothy was sleeping in her crib,
quietly, peacefully. Stepping up to
her, the mother kissed her softly on
her cheek and babe her "Good-by, my
pet, until Tomorrow Willie had not
yet retired, and Margaret said to her
self: "Shall take him with me?"
Eyes" He would he company for her
on the ride; and, besides, his grand
father would be glad to see him. So,
hastily pulling on his coat and hat,
she hustled the astonished boy down to
the porch door, where she found the
carriage in waiting:
How far is it to papa's, Michael?'
she asked
Near siven miles, num-" was the
answer.
Can you drive there and back in two
hours?''
''lt's hard night, mum, but guess
l can make it,
'You must get back before Mr. Hal.
lowell returns"
Sure and will, num-
The wind was now blowing such a
gale that it was with difficulty that the
footman held the carriage door open
for Margaret and Willie to enter: Oh!
1t was terrible night! The weird
shrieking of the wind and the beating
of the rain against the roof of the
carriage filled Margaret with a sort of
vague fear and trembling.
Michael cracked his whip and thew
were off. Down the driveway that
led under the two naples they went
terrible blast of wind made the
trees groan. Another more terrific
and-my God, man, hasten for your
lives! That's right! Cut your horses
with the whip! for see! the. tree is tot
tering! All, thank Heaven! You are
safe now-with a crash the tree falls
headlong to the ground.
1t seemed hours to Margaret before
they reached her fathers dwelling, but
the ride finally ended, and Michael,
leaving his precious load, fastened
home again. Poor Margaret, overcome
by fear and excitement, fell fainting
into her fathers arms as he met her on
the stairs. Then the fever the days of
delirium, the slow recovery.
1t was eleven o'clock before John