Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1892-10-23

"You-I know" she said kindly
''Closer-miles closer'n me?'
"Who? Do you mean any OF our 10y
alist neighbors?"
Lucy ran her thoughts over her short
list OF friends. All the valued names
had been expunged by her mothers
strict censorship or pushed back among
mere acquaintance. o,,
Have you forgotten your fatnerT
the butler asked.
Forgotten! 60 every day, when no
one is by, and lift up the corner OF the
curtain over the Vandyck. Our ances-
tor is nv father himself. look at him
and pray God to forgive him for being
so wicked and breaking my mothers
hearth
"Poh"
Lucy drew back in astonishment, as
if a Paixhan blowgun had exploded at
her side.
"Poh!' again burst out Voltaire's
double corked indignation. "If there
was a wicked one in that pair it wasn't
him. If there's heart broke it's his. !"
Lucy for moment did not think Of
this as an assault upon her mother.
"What, Voltaire!" she cried. "He Is
not dead! Not a bad man! Not a
rebelm
"Rebel!" says the French radicals
namesake. "Why shouldn't he be a
rebel for freedom? Bad! he amt bad
enough to marry off his daughter only
to git shet of her. Dead! No, Miss
Lucy; he's up to Fishkill, and sends you
his lub by me, if you want it,"
Love-even disguised as "lub"-it
was such fair angel of light that Lucy
looked up and greeted it with a smile.
But this was not day for smiles.
Storms were come after long gray
weather. Only tears now-bitter tears!
They must flow, sweet sister! IL Is the
old, old story.
"Does he really love me? Is this
true? Was he true? Was | deceived?
Why did she drive him out? Whom can
1 trust? Is every one liar? What
does this mean? Answer me, Voltaire!
Answer me or shall die"
Voltaire looked and did not answer.
To answer was terrible revelation to
make to this innocent girl. Faith was
putting the old fellow to very, cruel
works.
Speak" said Lucy again, more pas
fionately than before, and her voice ex-
pressed the birth of new force within
her. Speak! What have you TO say
of my mother. dread some new sor-
row. Tell me what it Is or | shall die. "
Again these pages refuse TO listen to
the few deplorabe words of his reply.
He whispered the secret of her mothers
disloyal life.
81 will not believe it," said the horror
stricken girl.
She did believe ii.
She had touched the clew. From
this moment she knew the past and
present-vaguely, as a pure soul may
know the mystery OF sin.
For the moment she felt herself
crushed TO deeper despair than be-
fore. She recognized the great over
towering urgency of fate. She could
| not know that this recognition marks
to the soul its first step into conscious
immortality; and that the inevitable
struggle to conquer fate must now begin
in her soul.
"What can 1 do?" she said; aud she
looked guiltily about the chamber, as II
every object in that house were the &C
complete OF a sin.
Run away with me to your fatherP
said Voltaire.
She shook her head weakly. She
was a great, great way yet from any
such exploit with her infant will.
No" she said; II must obey my
mother. That is my plain duty. She
is pledged and 1 am pledged to this
marriage. l must submit" Tears
again, poor child! The old habits are
still too strong for her.
But suppose your father should tell
you to obey him and not submit?" Vol
taire propounded. suppose he should
help to run you OFF,"
"How can hep"
81 will steal of tonight to Flshklll
and see him."
"You risk your lite.">
"Pohw
"Poh!' is not word to use to young
lady, Mr.. Voltaire. Yet, perhaps,
nothing could express SO well as that
explosive syllable how much and how
little he valued life when the lady's hap
! piness was at stake.
'But l didn't want Miss Lucy to be
frightened, of course" says he to Major
Skerrett, $50 l told her l was safe
enough in the Highlands, and when l
got here / didn't believe Major Scram-
mel would let me be shot for spy"
Here he gave monstrous sly look.
Peter Skerrett again felt his cheeks
burn and his forehead tingle, and the
stilled Muse OF History reports that "he
uttered a phrase indicative OF repre-
hension and distrust."
In short, he said to himself, "Scram-
mel, damn the fellow"
Certainly Why notP But 1t must not
be forgotten that it is Scrammel who
suggested this expedition. Voltaire told
Scrammel OF the marriage. Scrammel
would do one of his meanest tricks 10
be himself the bridegroom. And bis
scheme seems to be in fair way 10 for
bid the banns.
And so guileless Lucy Brothertoft had
consented to her first plot. Her accom-
Mice was to shift the burden OF weak
ness from her shoulders and throw it
upon her father. Meantime she was to
take her place at the great dinner party
and be a hypocrite for the first time.
How guilty felt that innocent heart!
How She dreaded lest some chance word
or look might betray her! What tor
ture was the burning blush in her
cheeks as she began to comprehend the
woman she must name mother!
How she trembled lest the woman's
cruel eyes should pierce her bosom, see
the secret there and consign her, with
out even the appointed delay, TO the ar
dent bridegroom. She knew that she