Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1893-01-12
CHAPTER XIV.
FALSE!

Sleep! Then the bridge, the STORM,
Raymond! No, no! it was all true. Oh!
where am I? Who are you? How came
I here, in this strange placer"
You are among kind, true friends,
tiearie-kind, true friends, and you must
not get excited, the doctor says.
Kind-hearted, motherly old Mrs.
Blake, the farmers wife, stroked Edna
Deanes' brow as she spoke, and her
startled charge sank back among the
pillows. moaning with weakness, mysu-
ficatiOn, 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 snowdrft at his cottage door, ran
for the doctor, and, with his solicitous
wife, had worked all night long to re-
vive her well-nigh exhausted vitality.
Since then, in dose and delirium, the
poor child had lain, and this was the
first awakening to consciousness.
She listened with shudder to the
story that her motherly nurse told her
OF their finding her that weird snowy
night. She cried softly as she told her,
too, how they came to love her bonny,
innocent face-how, if she was home
less. friendless, they would gladly make
room for her in their home and their
hearts, bereft only q short year since by
the death of their own darling child.
They asked her no questions as she
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 mes
senger her father had sent for her had
impaired to her-that he alone had
placed her at the seminary years agone,
and with him had persisted the mystery
!, e. nf 10, III ch-
ing her identity, of finding her father.
She had been cast uron the world alone,
w th no claim upon her past life, and
the mystery of her true identity was
mystery still.
No claim, save One-RaymOnd! Her
hea beat anxiously as she thought Of
MIN. 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 re-
membered all her guide had told her.
She must never communicate with any
OF her old friends until she saw her
father. It might mean peril-trouble
Tor him. Oh! how the perplexities Of
her situation fretteG her
week passed by. She was strong
once more. al one day Edna reflected
seriously That night, glancing lovingly
at the faces o; har kind friends, she tod
them o. her resolve.
You have been like an own father
and mother 20 me-" she murmured,
gratefully. i an never forget YOU
never cease to love you, butt am 60
ing away"
Going away" sighed the kindly Mrs.
Blake
"Nes; I must see some friends Then
l will retutn, then may be glad Of your
happy, happy home. Please do hot
question mo- hut / must so.
Reluctantly they ba4e her good-by
the next morning. the farmer drove
her over to the raiIroa1 station. In the
new garments with which her old torn
and bedraggled attire had been re-
placed, no one recognized her as the
supposed victim Of the bridge disaster,
an event strangely that Mr.. Blake had
not heard OF. Edna had a few dollars
in her pocket. She bought q ticket TAX
ing her half way to Hopedale, kissed
the Gatherly farmer good-by, promised
10 write or return within a few days,
and the train whirled her away.
AT the terminus she sold her watch.
This gave her ample means to continue
her journey. All the way she was think
ing OF what she should do. Something
in the memory Of her guides strange
y
her fathers life impelled her to secrecy
III all her movements, and when she
reached H0pedale at noon she trusted
to her attire and heavy veil to conceal
her identity.
She haunted the vicinity Of the semi
nary. She would try TO get word to
Eeatrice. Finally, she addressed q
strange student The reply to her
questions chilled and disconnected her.
Miss Mercer had left the seminary two
weeks previous.
Then Haymond-she must find him
now. She could tell him everything.
While he endeavored 10 get some trace
o her father, she would return to the
Biakes and make her home with them.
1T was Just dusk when she finally rang
at the door-bell OF the Marshall resi-
denoe.
i servant informed her that Mr.. Mar
shall was not a home. He had gone TO
tie hotel with his father. the colonel.
"Wh9t shall dc? Oh. l am so rear
fu} Of ma>irg Q mistake, but l must see
RAYMOND. Who else can | appeal to
in my uncertainty"
obviously. undec;dedly, Edna walked
towards the village hostelry. 1t was
cutie dusk, and she was very tired
when she reached the place.
Mechanically, almost, she assembled
the stairs lead ne to the ladies' parlor,
and sank to- cushioned chair, thinking,
wondering, hoping she was doing what
was emiuently proper, and for the best.
Footsteps on the stairs brought her to
her feet, Ii it was a servant, she would
ask her to try and find Mr. Raymond
Marshall and his father and send them
80 her-but it was no servant. The ia
miliar form of Doctor Simms passed the
door. and following him was a clerical
looking man, and the former was say
ing:
aMr. Marshall is waiting for us. This
way. sir.
Mr.. acknowledgements! He was in
the hotel, then? What meant the words
of the Doctor? Why was the ministe-
rial looking man here? For few mo.
ments the perplexed girl fingered. Then