Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1893-02-12

When Alice died. her husband, James
| Falkland, of the Laplands, near Arm
way, lived only for the sake OF their
| children. Otherwise his sensitive emo
tiopal nature would have sought suicide
as a panacea for intolerable grief. But
he realized his duty, and secluded with
in the broad messuage OF the old manor.
he devoted himself TO the education OF
Grace, q girl Of sixteen, and Egoert, a
lad of four.
His marriage, indeed, had proved fe-
| licitous. Yet when IL had been an
nounced gossips had shaken their
heads dubously and whispered fore
bodings; not that they expected trouble
from him, but. rather, for him. No one
throughout that countryside had evil
thought or speech of "Jim" Falkland,
a man OF simple habit, of quiet taste,
of kindly word and deed. But Alice
Monteith was not popular. She had
always been distant, reserved, given
to solitude and meditation. People
had felt, for no other reasons than her
impetuous step and flashing black eyes,
that she disdained her environment.
Besides, the MontiethS were distrust-
ed. bad blood! bad blood!" said the
gossips; "grasping, secretIve, indomit-
ablep There was Reuben Montieth,
the mariner. who had returned to the
village in 1747 and re-established the
family after so many years absence.
Where had he gotten such q store OF
! Spanish doubloons? There was old
Squire Abe Montieth, who had lived
to be ninety, and had robbed the widow
and the fatherless up to the very day OF
his death! bad blood! bad olood!'
croaked the gossips. Jim oughtern
known better Than to set his heart on
that bit of painted flesh. Not but she's
'ahnsome-thet's undeniable; but so be
apples of Sodom"
But when Alice died these same Cos
sips, during the drive to the family
graveyard, could not but agree that she
had been a faithful, afectionate wife.
but why shouldn't she hev been? per-
sisted one irreconcilable. "She wanted
Jim and she got him. The best hus-
band i'm the world, and all tibet money
can buy to boot! But supposin' she'd
hev been disappointed, or Jim had lost
his fortune, or she'd hev fancied some
other mon-then she'd hev shown heI
teeth. God forgive me for speaking Ill
of the dead and gone, but what's bred In
the bone. you know"
The Laplands was an old and ample
estate. The house was outspread like
a broOding fowl. From the main hall
broad staircase led to the library. In
it's rear were sleeping rooms occupied
by the children, and these were con-
nected by another but narrow flight o:
stairs with the drying room and kitchen
below.
Falkland was rich. Like his ances-
tors, he Kept his wealth concealed IN
vault in the library. He had no fear OF
burglars. The locks were secret and
stout. Besides, he relied on Rover, q
Siberian bloodhound, kept chained In
| the stable during the day, but at night
ranging restlessy In the drying room
Falkland found contentment II mol
happiness in the society Of his children.
They were both precoclous and inter
esting. Egbert was lovely child, with
long faxen curlS and large blue eyes, as
clear, as steadfast as mountain pool
His nature was essentially feminine
dependent, trustiul, affectionate. The
gossips would say: "There's not DROP
OF Monteith blood in that boy. Why
he's jim all over again" He had
blthe disposition, though timorous to
degree. Night, indeed, was dread
and Rover's small red eyes and SLAYER
ing muzzle horror to him; bat one
touch from his sisters hand would quel
imaginary and actual terror He loved
his father; he idolized Grace. One day,
when he was just able to walk, he had
escaped from his nurse and stood
on the broad sill by an oper
window Of the second story. Grace, who
happened to be in the garden, extended
her arms unthinkingly, and out ht
sprang without hesitation, cooling with
delight. Had not the girl chung to hin
with a desperation as intense as all oil
her emotions, the lad had easily been
killed. As it was he escaped injury, bu
his sister ever afterward bore across hel
snowy bosom scar which bespoke the
misadventure.
Grace's nature was less Transparent
than her brothers.. While at first glance
it seemed luminous, the light cloudet
directly beneath the surface. The COS
sips doubted not her Monteith lineage
they declared it patent in every feature
and expression. They liked her no bet
ter than they had her mother, and To-
much the same reasons. She seemed
distant to them, and, worse, iLdifferen
TO their concerns. To her father sh'
was deferentlal and affectonate; to Eg
bert she was devoted.
Yet, outside of her reading, which
was limited only by the exclusion o
modern fiction from the library, sh'
seemed interested in nothing. She hat
no pets, no tapestry work, no favorit'
walks, no bosom friend. She would 81
in the summer house, muslng not 10
happily, but surely not buoyantly. Anc
little Ezbert would creep behind be-
and pinch her cheeks, crying: Come
wake up, sisterm Then, Indeed, sht
would arouse aud strain the boy TO he
breast as If In atonement. She wa
never excited. never disturbed by dreaC
of man, heart, or force OF nature. Sh'
once had cowed a tramp with th'
tuning key of her harp, which N
had taken for a revolver. No one
besides her, save Falkland, would dare
approach Rover, but she would calmly
slap tho brute with her glove and h'
would grovel at her feet and rub biz
head against her skirts Yet II little
Egbert came within view, the savag'
beast would bristle with rage Into ar
awful red horror.