The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-12-10
NOW FIRST PUBLISHED.
Blu MRS. OLIPHANT,
COPYRIGHTED, 1898, BY THE AUTHOR.
CHAPTER XVII. tContinued.l

liked ana respected, Went so much too
far, so much farther than there was any
justification for doing. He was troubled
instiuctively for her that she should be 50
impulsive. so strangely affected. He
shook his head. Don't think me migrate
ful" he cried. "Indeed. I don't know if
you mean all that your words seem to
mean-as how should you indeed, and /
only o stranger to your But, dear Miss
Bethune, that can never be again. II is
bad enough, as find out, to have had no
real tie to her, my dear lady that's gone,
and to feel that everybody must think
my grief for my poor aunt is partly disap-
pointment because she has not provided
for me. But no such linl. could not be
forged again | was child when that
was made. II was natural; they set
tied things for me as they pleased, and
knew nothing but that | was very happy
then. and loved them, and they me. But
now | am a man, and must stand for my
self. Don't think me ungracious. It's
impossible but that man with full use of
his limbs must be able to earn his bread.
It's only going back 10 South America, If
the worst comes to the worst, where ev-
erybody knows me- he said.
Miss Bethune's countenance had been
like a drama while young Gordon made
this long speech, most of which was ut
tnred with little breaks and pauses, with
out looking at her, in the same attitude
with his eyes on the ground. Yet he
looked up once or twice with that fitting
sad smiles, and an air of begging pardon
for anything he said which might wound
her. Trouble and almost shame, and
swift contradiction, and anger, and sym
pathy, and tender pity, and a kind of ad-
miration, all went over her face in waves.
She was wounded by what he said, and
disappointed and yet approved. Could
there be all these things in the hard lines
of a middle-aged facet And yet there
were all, and more. She recovered her
self quickly as he came to an end, and
with her usual voice replied
I'VE must not be so hasty to begin with.
Ii is more than likely that the
poor lady has made the position clear in
her will. We must not jump 10 the con-
clusion that things are not explained in
that and set right; it would be a slur up
on her memory even to think that it
would not be So"
There must be no slur on her men,
ory,n said young Gordon, quickly; but
am almost sure that 1t will not be so.
She told me repeatedly that 1 was not to
blame her-as if it were likely 1 should
her.n
E"She would deserve blame, q" cried Miss
Bethune, quickly, eff after all that has
passed she should leave YOU with no pro-
vision. no Acknowledgement
He put up his hand to stop her.
Not a word of that. What l wanted
was to keep my place until after-until
all was done for her. ! am mere baby, -
he cried, daseing away the tears from his
eyes. 1T was that solicitor coming in 10
take charge of everything, to lock up
everything to give all the orders, that
was moro than / could bear
She did not trust herself to say any
thing. but laid her hand upon his arm.
And the poor young fellow was at the
end of his forces, worn out bodily with
anxiety and want of sleep, aud mentally
by grief and the conflict Of emotion. lie
bent down his face upon her hand, kiss
ing it with kind of passion, and burst
out, leaning his head upon her arm, into
a storm of tears, that broke from him
against his will Miss Bethune put her
other hand upon his bowed head her face
Quiveret with the yearning Of whole life.
"Oh God, is he my bairn2-Oh, God,
that he were my BARN. she cried.
But nobody would have guessed what
this crisis had been who saw them lit
tie after, as Dora saw them, who came
into the room pale. too, with the unusual
vigil of the previous night. but full of an
indignant something which she had to
say. Miss Bethunen' she cried almost
before she had closed the door. ''do YOU
know what Gilchrist told father about
last night That i was tired when [
came in, and had headache, and she had
put me. to bed! And now, l have to tell
lies too, to say / am better and to agree,
when he thanks Gilchrist for her care,
and say is was the best thing for me. Oh,
what horrible thing it is to tell lies To
hide things from him, and invent ex-
cuses, and cheat him--cheat him with
stories that are not true!"
Her hair waved behind her, half curl
nng, crisp. inspired by indignation, her
iudm figure seemed to expand and grow,
offa- eyes shone, Miss Bethune had GER
theIoly not gained anything BY the decep-
3, which were very innocent ones at
ter all, practised upon MIR. Manneriug,
but She had had TO bear the brunt of this
shock with what composure she might.
She laughed a little, half glad to shake
of thb fumes of deeper emotion in this
new Incident. LAS soon as he is stronger
you shall explain everything to him,
Dora, = she said. "When the body is
weak the mind should not be vexed
more than is possible with perplexlng
things or petty cares. But as soon as he
is better
"And now" cried Dora, finging back
her hair, all cHsped, and almost sointil-
lating with anger and distress, her eyes
filed with tears, -'here comes the doctor
now-far, far worse than any bills or any
perpleXities, and tells him. straight out
that he must ask for a years holiday and
go away, first for the rest of the summer,
and then for the winter, as father says
to one OF these places where all the fools
gol-father, whose life is in the museum,
who cares for nothing else, who CAN'T
bear to go away Oh" cried Dora,
stamping her foot TO think l should be
made to lie to keep little little things
from him-contemptible things! and shat.
then the doctor should come straight up
stairs and without any purpose without
any apology. blurt out that"
4'The doctor must have thought, Dora,
it was better for him 10 know. He says
all will go well, he will get quite strong,
and able to work in the museum to his
hearts content, if only he Will do this
now
''If only he will do this! If only he will
invent lot of money, father says, which
we haven't got And how is the money
to be inventcdl IL IS like telling poor
Mrs Hesketh not to walk, but to go out
IN a carriage every day. Perhaps that
would make her quite well, poor thing.
1t would make the beggar at the corner
quite well if he had turtle soup and
champagne like father And we must