The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1893-06-07
HEARTS OF COLD;
The Heiress of Maple
Leaf Farm.
GENEVIEVE ULMER.
CHAPTER 1.
WHITE vIOLETS.

Ihey haQ named lne pldce meAA Inooo
sturdy old Forsythes who, for three gen.
erations, had drawn from its sol! the rich
fruits Of an inexhaustible fertility, re-
deeming the broad acres from the will
dorness, and building and improving un-
til the square mile Of field, timber and
brookside resembled some notable En-
glish grange.
Where the many gabled house stood,
the thrifty naples shut it in to nest
hoored with golden-hued fsllen leaves,
and famed by crimson beauties still
pendent to the mother stem, Haunting
their gay tintings like vari-colored ban
ners.
1t was now, when the glories OF the
harvest still fingered, when each held
looked like some swept lawn, and the
barn groaned with golden store, and na-
ture, nan and beast seemed resting for
O later battle with winter and storm,
that Maple Leaf Farm looked its best,
and it was now that stalwart, iron-knlt
John Elliott, gazing across the fenced
In paradise OF his hopes and ambitions.
thrilled proudly.
Ten years agone he had brought his
motherless child, Ruth, to the farm, to
be welcomed by old Geoffrey Forsythe,
his dead wife's bachelor brother.
Il wrote for you," the sad-faced re-
cluse had said, because the farm was
going to ruin, aid you have the vigor
and the ambition to redeem it. I am
failing daily. I give you the use OF the
place as virtual owner while you live.
After that"-and he gazed affectionately
at golden haired little Ruth-"she shall
be my heiress, and her husband shall
carry on the work you begin"
And then Geoffrey Forsythe had kissed
the wonder-eyed child who so resembled
his dead sister, had retired to the gloomy
stone residence he owned in the village
of Ridgeton, q mile distant, and dropped
out Of their lives as fully as though he
had gone to foreign parts.
A recluse, an invalid, once year he
came to the farm, once month Ruth
visited him in the hermitage, where he
seemed to dwell only to brood over q
broken past.
They told Of love episode in his
career that had left him in its wake only
heart-wreck and sorrow. She had Tilted
him, but he could not recognize the
ooquette in the fair being who seemed
an angel to his blinded, longing gaze.
She had welded another. They had
both died, leaving son, Ralph, and
when John Elliott came to the farm old
Geofrey had said to him:
Il make but one restriction to your
exclusive control Of everything. A sense
Of duty impels me to keep her boy out
Of the poorhouse. You are to take
Ralph, make man Of him, and some
day, may be, he and Ruth"
Grim John Elliott understood, and
Ralph had become member OF his fam
lily, to all eyes, except the blind ones OF
Geofrey Forsythe and John Elliott, de-
veloping traits Of secrecy, cunning and
rudeness that carried out the defective
training Of deceitful mother and a
reckless, unprincipled sire.
Since then the years had gone on, each
one adding to the beauty and value OF
Maple Leaf Farm, and John Elliott might
well experience flush Of joy as he sur
veyed his goodly heritage that bright,
glowing afternoon.
1T took time to get the hang Of
things, he murmured, with sef-gratula-
ton, but managed it. There isn't o
farm in days journey that equals this.
The last year has mended every broken
fence, propped up every crooked barn,
and the protts-I shall be rich before
die, very rich!"
Farmer John spoke truly. The last
year had been golden one indeed. In
his stubborn pride he took all the credit
for it, but his was not the hand that had
wrought the change.
He half guessed it, as tall, manly
fellow Of about twenty-five came from
one Of the granaries.
Mr.. Elliott, the wagons will be here
for the wheat tomorrow" he remarked.
Il Very we'll, you can attend to it. And,
say, Dalton, we had better cast up &C.
coapts tonight"
The young man bowed with a dignity
that told OF past career considerably
above the level of farm culture. Farmer
John turned and watched him with cal
eulating eye as he strolled toward the
road.
Il can't make him out, he muttered.
Il never could. Inever will. He came
here, quiet and gentlemanly, year ago,
and asked for work-no friends, no ref
erences. He thrashed like a bound
hand, but I'll wager he never saw a fail
before. Then I put him in charge Of the
men. Then he began to help me out
Jewel, earning double his wages, saving
me four times as much, and always the
quiet, gentlemanly, unassuming fellow
Great Goshen! it never struck me be-
lore. But suppose it is him him that's
ct the bottom of the new mischief I've
scented!'
Farmer John brought his sinewy fist
down on the fence till it quivered, under
the force Of q new and overwhelming
idea.
Black as a thundercloud grew his
broad, bronzed face, so lately wreathed
with smiles Of satisfaction.
Some one is at the bottom OF 1t.
Some ones robbing me Systematically.
It can't be him, but-who knowsP He's
q stranger; he knows where the keys
are, and-I'n watch!"
Muttering, black-browed, the farmer
took his way slowly towards the house.
The sun had gone under hazy cloud,
the first forerunner Of damp weather.
Nature was In sympathy with the dark
shadows that the impression Of wilful
suspicion was about to cast about the
peaceful home.
Paul Dalton, the young superintend-
emit, all unconscious Of the web with
IRON warp and woof Of steel that fate
had just begun to weave for him, walked
on till he reached the grove OF naples
lining the road.
Farmer John adjudged him mystery,
end Farmer John was right.
One glance at his expressive face, IN
telligent eyes, expansive brow, daintily
shaped hands, told that he had not al