Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1893-08-10
CHAPTER IX-lContlnued.l

4 lily lIlII lSOltltIt, lily luStttNt nditltl-
ings, he has been true to me. He alone
/ knew where o had been placed.
| Now, under a new name, you come to
share my loneliness. Fear not. it will
| only be for a few brief years. Then,
mistress of my fortune, you can go
! forth into the world and enjoy the lib
erty denied me-"
Father, / do not understand" MUIR
INJURED the false daughter.
dc not try to. An innocent man, I
have yet been called upon TO suffer the
penalty of a crime unjustly laid to my
charge. Even now 1 am a fugitive
from justice. Hunted down, a reward
upon my recapture. l sought this Sc
Guided spot to die in peace. Here we
will live in quiet contentment, your
love and care the solace of my de-
Ginning years. Are you not content with
that, Alice, my childT'
Yes" murmured Beatrice, since
you will it So"
Why not? Life here, surrounded by
every luxury would not be so arduous
that she could not find some enjoy
ment in it, and later on!-her eyes
J glowed with sinister triumph-there
was a farther plot to carry out, there
was Raymond Marshall to think OF,
the man she was determined to win,
come what might.
Imperfectly understanding h vague
mystery surrounding Ralston, she yet
realized that he was in danger of APP
prehension for some entaglement OF
the past. Some day she must possess
that secret in full. 1t would give her
added power to sway him TO her VIII IL
ever her imposture were discovered.
She could scarcely comprehend the
rare success Of the imposture as, later
that evening, she sat in the boudoir or
the suite of rooms apportioned to her
in the old mansion.
Not a breath Of suspicion had been
aroused. Placidly, unequivocally had
old Mr.. Ralstor accepted her as the
child he had not seen since infancy.
Her past, like his own, he would never
seek to probe or revive, Yesterday
was as dead and zone as the ages past.
Here she could change her W Identity
in the undisputed possession OF a royal
fortune. Ralston dead, that fortune
acquired, and with her youth, beauty
and intelligence, she could go out into
,he world and become a queen among
women, tread q velvet path through
life-she, the poor, obscure teacher ON
half-pay, the friendless drudge of
Hopedale seminary.
Yet there was a canker at the heart
IL the rose. Conscience did not troubre
her. She ever justified her fraudulent
representations. No, all she thought
of. all that disturbed her was a men,
DRY of the man She loved.
How she loved him still. How the
handsome. animated face of Raymond
Marshall haunted her.
For his sake / did it all.' she muir
INJURED unanimously. He must ben
eft by it all. How? All! patience, my
eager heart! / hold the strings of des-
tiny. If i make no misstep, fortune and
love are both mine in the end"
Her rooms had been papered for her
with infinite care. They were more
than luxurious, they were elegant. The
steward and a housekeeper were the
sole servants, but they attended like
mute slaves TO her every caprice as the
days went by.
Ralston was not exacting. He asked
an hour or two Of her time each day
70 read to him in the garden, or play
for him i'm the great, somber drawing
room on the piano. Ever under the
shadow of some great fear, he never
left the walled grounds of the estate,
and requested her to confine her long
drives to the upfrequented roads lead
ing way from the village.
A week passed thus, then the novelty
of her new lifn began to wear away.
The false Alice Ralston, the real Bea-
trice Mercer, began to grow restless,
anxious, moody.
Then she fell to plotting. If she
could only drag from that past life the
object of her love, Raymond Marshall,
she would be content.
You are getting wearied Of the lone
illness here, 1 fear" spoke Raiston,
a~nxiously. n evening.
NO, father"
"You are ~deceiving me. / can read
It in your face / caught you crying
yesterday. Speak, my child, IL You have
any secret soIlOw."
The yelled eyes of the siren glowed
triumphantly. The hour had come for
a master stroke Of finesse.
'Shall l tell you the truth. even If
1t disturbs you?" asked Beatrice, in a
low, purring tone.
Always, my dear
Il am happy here, only there is a
| chapter in my past that haunts me-"
L DnTSufu lle ldi-t-iiciIt tu Il
have friends whom i love, whom ] left
IN poverty, trouble. Father, IL | ind
the means to visit them, 10 place them
in a position beyond want, i would re-
turn here satisfied, never to leave you
again
You mean this. my daughter"
81 mean it, father"
"As / understand 1t, you wish TO go
to these f~riends-to bid them a final
farewell, and to enrich themf"
Yes"
He led her to a guarded with an
iron door. With a key he unlocked a
cabinet. 1t was stored with money
coin. bank notes. bonds.
yours" he said generously; "ai
yours. Take what you want. l shall
! never ask how much, o care. Deal as
literally with your friends ms you Ike,
only-must you go to themT
II must father"
"AloneT'