The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1893-06-03

worth money 10 tle newspapers rs NO.
public would be eager for the extras 10 &
they fell futtering from the presses. n [.
How long she sat there she could not
tell. She had lost all record of time.
Perhaps it was another hour, another
day, another week, when she heard it in
the distance-then nearer, shriller, more
distinctly incoherent:
EXTRA - humble, humble
cross''-mumble, mumb le-"here's' your
extra!''
She opened her blinds and leaned out
in feverish haste. The enterprising
gamin caught her swift motion. He
was across the street and at her win
dow in second, with a fresh damp
sheet held aloft. She seized it, flung
him his pay and drew the shutters to-
refused their service.
''Guilty!''
Two sr-all arms were placed about
the bent neck of her crouching figure.
"Auntie, I loves you. loves my
papa. Where is my papa? Iwant him
to come here"
Ida shook her off ruthlessly. There
was nothing in life worth any atten-
ton but that fimsy printed sheet in her
lap.
It was to spare her father this that
God took him. But why take one and
leave the other?
'Why should I, O Lord of might and
Justice, be left to suffer what was too
great for him to bear? Is this infinite
justice, infinite pity, infinite rnercy?"
The room was dark. That crouching
figure on the floor filled her small soul
with fear. The unusual is full Of ter
ror for baby-souls. Ida took no more
note of her than if her wailing had
been the wailing of the wind in the
tree-tops outside.
For once in her life Ninette was abso-
lutely forgotten by everybody. Her
aunt was porting again ravenously over
the closely-printed account of the trial.
After long time she looked at Nj
nette curiously. She had just mastered
the situation. It was to John Lorimer's
wife the detectives owed the clew that
they had Just followed out to so trium-
plant finale.
Slowly light broke over Ida's bag
gard face. "Come here, Ninette," she
said, aloud II want you, dear"
Ninette came gladly, wiping her wet
eyes on the cuff of her little wrapper.
Her aunt looked at her musingly.
Little child, wonder if you could
soften her hard, hard heart? She used
to love You. Perhaps, for your sake
We will try it, We will go to her."
AS she opened the door that led into
the street, half an hour later, Dennis
Lorimer stopped in front of it,
CHAPTER XVII
"John! Why should I have been
singled out to perpetuate it? Why
should the hard task of doing Amelia
justice not have been left in other
hands? feel as if / had erected fresh
and stronger barriers between the
houses of White Cliffs and Glenburnie.
But could not help it. It had to be
DONE"
mo, you could not help it. 1t had to
be DONE"
He echoed her words gravely. He
had just a little while before come from
the courthouse, where he had waited to
They had been sitting in somber silence
a long minute.
"Poor Ida! poor Dennis! And to
think that but for me they might at
las have come together! No one ever
would have suspected"
"Poor Iday and poor Dennis! They
have waited SO long!''
"John, there is a reproach in your
VOICE. She left her seat and coming
behind him. she put her arms around
his neck and laid her soft cheek upon
the crown of his head. There were
tears in her eyes. but if he felt them
dropping among his close-clipped locks
he made no sign, other than putting up
one hand to lay it caressingly on hers,
as they lay interloclxed about his brown
throat. She was very dear to him
this recovered wife.
'Not for you, wife," he said, sooth-
ingly "You could not help it. 1t had
to be done"
''She would not let me rest. Wher~
ever went, whatever was doing,
could see her pleading eyes, could hear
her reproaching me for not caring: Oh,
John, it was awful, awful! All my life
long have been caring for her. pro-
tecting her, putting her happiness be-
fore mine. And. John, it was because
of her that said no to you that first.
time loved you then. But said, I
cannot ask him to care for US both and.
/ cannot leave her to buffet the world
alone. Poor Nellie! she was always so
giddy. 1t was because of her that 1
said no the second time-though it al
most broke my heart, John, to say it..
But she was away from me then, and,
although she was married to him. Sib-
lev Fairbanks, she used to write me
such reckless wild letters and tell me
that she was coming back to me. She
kept me in fear. thought, if disgrace
awaited me, you should not be involved
in it. Then, when she disappeared,
john and sent me her child to care for,
in foolish moment ! determined to
. u.