The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-12-10

that beef-tea runs on foreverl On, Gil
christ, you are no good at all Tell me
what 10 do"
Dora could not help being light-hearted,
though it was in the present circumstan-
ces, 80 inappropriate, when she thought
of that great deal Of noney''-money
that would sweep all the bills away, that
would make almost everything possible.
That consciousness lightened more and
more upon her. as she saw the little bun
die Of bills carefully labeled and tied up,
which she had intended to remove surrep-
tltlously from her fathers room while he
was out of 1t. With what comfort and
satisfaction would she remove them now
Just put 1t down on the table by his
side, Miss Dora" said Gilchrist. Say
no word, just put it there within reach of
his hand Maybe he viii fly out at you,
and ask if you think there's nothing In the
world so important as your COMPOUNDED.
But no, he will not say that; he's no man
that gets relief in that way But, on the
other hand, he viii, maybe Just be con-
scious that there's a good smell, and he
will feel he's wanting something, and he
will just drink it off without more ado.
But do not, Miss Dora, whatever you do,
let more folk on business bother your
poor papaw, for 1 could not answer for
what might come of it. You had better
let me sit here on the watch and see that
nobody come near the door"
Il will do what you say, and you can do
what you like" said Dora. She could al
most have danced along the passage.
Poor lady from America, who was dead
Dora had been very sorry. She had been
much troubled by the interview about
her which she did not understand; but
even if father was pitiless, which was
incredible, it could do that poor woman
no harm now, and the money-money
which would be deliverance, which would
pay all the bills, and leave the quarters
money free to go to the country with, to
go abroad with Dora had to tone her
countenance down, not to look too guilty
glad when she went in to where her father
was sitting in the same abstraction and
gloom. But this time he observed her
entrance, looking up as if he had been
looking for her. She had barely time to
follow Gilchrist's directions when he
stretched out his hand and took hers,
drawing her near to him. He was very
grave and pale, but no longer so terrible
as before.
Dora, +" he said, chow often have you
seen this lady of whom I have heard
to-day"
Twice, father; once in Miss Bethune's
room, where she had come, don't know
how"
''In this housed" he said with a strong
culver, which Dora felt as if it had been
communicated to herself.
"Aud the night before last, when Miss
Bethune took me to where she was living,
a long way OF, by Hyde Park. knelt at
the bed long time, and then they put
me in a chair. She said many things l
did not understand, but chiefly" Dora
said, her eyes filing with tears, the scene
seemed to come before her more touch
ingiy in recollection than when, to her
wonder and dismay, it took place,
"chiefy that she loved me, that she had
wanted me all my life, and that she
wished that above everything before she
died"
And them" he said, with a catch in
his breath
Il don't know father; / was so con-
fused and dizzy with being there so long.
All of a sudden they took me away, and
the others all came round the bed. And
then there was nothing more Miss Be
uhune brought me home. I understood
that the lady-that my poor-my poor
aunt-if that is what she was-was dead.
Oh, father, whatever she did, forgive her
nowu'
Dora for the moment had forgotten
everything but the pity and the wonder,
which she only now began to realize for
the first time, the dark room, the twink
ling lights, the ineffable smile upon the
dying face, and her big tears fell fast
upon her fathers hand which held hers
in trembling grasp. The culver that
was in him ran through and through her,
so that she trembled too.
Dora he said, perhaps you ought to
know, as that man said. The lady was
not your aunt-she was your mother
my" there seemed a CONFUSION in
his throat, as though he could not pro-
nounce the word-''my wife. And yet
she was not to blame, as the world Judges.
1 went on a long expedition after you
were born, leaving her very young still,
and poor l did not mean her to be poor
l did not mean to be long away. But 1
went to Africa, which is terrible enough
now. but was far more terrible in those
days. fell i'll again and again. l was
left behind for dead. l was lost IN those
dreadful wilds. 1t was more than three
years before | came to the light of day at
all, and it seemed a hundred. / had been
given up by everybody. The money had
failed her, her people were poor, the mu-
scum gave her a small allowance, as to
the widow of man killed in its service.
And there was another man who loved
her They meant no harm it is true. She
did nothing that was wrong. She married
him, thinking | was dead"
"E'ather!n Dora cried, clasping his arm
with both hands, the other supported his
head.
1T was pity that I was not dead
that was the pity. If 1 had known, I
should never have come back to put every
thing all wrong. But I never heard a
word till came back. And she would
not face me--never. She fed as if she
had been guilty. She was not guilty, you
know. She had only married again. which
the best of women do She fed by her
self at first, leaving you to me. She said it
was all she could do, but that she mover,
never could look me in the face again.
1t has not been that could not forgive
her, Dora. No, but we could not look
each other in the face again"
is it she," said Dora, struggling to
speak, whose picture is in your cabinet,
on its face9 May l take it, father} l
should like to have it,
He put his other arm around her and
pressed her close. And after this" he
said my little girl, we will never say
word on this subject again"
[To BE Continued