Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1893-08-24
CHAPTER XIV.
False.

False!
There, there, dear! don't be alarmed.
You've just woke UP from a nice, long
Sleep"
sleep! Then the bridge, the storm,
Raymond! No, no! it was all true. OH!
where am /? Who are you How came
l here, in this strange place."
You are among kind, true friends,
dcarie-kind, true friends, and you must
not gel excited, the doctor says"
Kind-hearted, motherly old Mrs.
Blake, the farmers wife, stroked Edna
Deane's brow as she spoke, and her
starued charge sank back among the
pillows, moaning with weakness, mysti-
t~ication, and anxiety.
A long sleep, indeed, had it been; for
two weeks had passed away since hon.
est Farmer John had dragged her from
the snowdrift at his cottage door, ran
for the doctor, and, with his solicitous
wife, had worked all pight long TO
revive her well-night exhausted vital
ity.
Since then, in dose and delirium, the
poor child had lain, and this was the
first awakening to consciousness.
She listened with a shudder to the
Glory that her motherly curse told her
of their finding her that weird snowy
night. She cried softly as she told het,
too, how they came to love her bonny,
innocent face-how, II she was home
less, friendless, they would gladly make
room for her in their home and their
hearts, bereft only a short year since
by the death Of their W darling child.
Thnv oclnI hnr NO n,,noufjppg as uhn
grew stronger daily, and Edna did not
enlighten them. 1t seemed as If a pail,
never TO be lifted. hung over her young
life. She remembered all that the
messenger her father had sent for her
had impartd to her-that he alone had
placed her at the seminary years agone,
and with him had persisted the mystery
of her young life, all hopes of estab-
fishing her identity, of finding her
father. She had been cast upon the
world alone, with no claim upon her
past life, and the mystery of her true
identity was a mystery still.
No claim, save one-Raymond! Her
heart beat anxiously as she thought of
him. How he would worry over her
sudden departure, her strange silence.
She must write TO him, to her dear
friend Beatrice Mercer, at once. No,
she remembered all her guide had told
her. .-.e must never communicate
with any of her old friends until she
saw her father. 1t might mean peril
trouble for him. Oh! how the per-
plexities of her situation fretted her.
A week passed by. She was strong
once more. All one day Edna reflect
ed seriously. That night, glancirg low
ingly at the faces of her kind friends,
she told them of her resolve.
You have been Ike an own father
ard mother to me- she murmured,
gratefully. II can Eve forget you
never cease to love you, butt am
going away"
"Going awayw! sighed the kindly Mrs.
Blake.
Yes; I must see some friends. Thpp
I Will return. then l may be glad of
your happy, happy home. Please do
not question me-, but l must go.
Reluctantly they babe ner good-0y
the next morning. The farmer drove
her over to the railroad station. In
the new garments with which her old
torn and bedraggled attire had been
replaced, no one recognized her as the
supposed victim Of the bridge disaster,
an event strangely that Mr.. Blake had
not heard Of. Edna Lad a few dollars
In her pocket. She bought a ticket
taking her half way to Hopedale, kiss
ed the fatherly farmer gond-by, prom
Used to write or return within q few
days, and the train wbirled away.
At the terminus she sold her watch.
This gave her ample means to contiia..
her journey. Ali rhe way She was
thinking Of what she should do. Some.
thing in the memory Of her guides
strange warning about The mystery
that clouded her fathers life inpelltd.
her TO secrecy in all her movements.
and when she reached Hopedalc Mt
noon she trusted to her attire and n
heavy veil to conceal her identity.
She haunted the vicinity of the semi
nary. She would try to get word Ia
Beatrice. Finally, she addressed 4
strange student. The reply to her
questions chilled and disconnected her.
Miss Mercer had left tho seminary two
weeks previous.
hen Raymond-shc must find him
now. She could tell him everything.
While he ~endeavored to get some trace
OIL her father, she would return TO the
BlaAes n make her home with them.
II was just when she finally rang at
the dccr-beH of the Marshall residence.
A servant informed h.. that Mr..
MARSHALL was not at hone. He had
II TO the hotel with his father. the
colonel.
What shall i do? Oh. I am so fear.
tui OF making a mistake, butt must
see Raymond. Who else can | appeoJ
10 Ill my uncertainty.
l~'ublously, undecidsdly, Edna walked
towards the village hostalry. 1t Mas
quite dusk, and She was very tired
when she reached the place.
Mechanically. almost, she assembled
me stairs lcudinG to the ladies' narlcr.
ana sank TO a cushioned chair, think.
iIs. wondering, hoping she was doing
wnat vas eminently proper, aud for
the best. :"
Footstsps on The stairs brought her
20 e faet. IL 1t was Il servant. She
wop,a ask her to try ana fad AIr. RAY
Iond Marshall and his father. and
@aA hA