The Dickinson press., 1893-07-15

poor child had lain. and this WAS the
tilS, awakening In consciousness.
She listened With II Shu,lter to thu.
tory that her motlcrly nursr told her
OF their finding her that weird snowy
Right. She cried softly as She told he.'
too. how they came To love her bonny.
innocent tacc-how. if she WAS home
less. frlcndl' IS. they would GLADLY make
room for hrr i'll their home and their
hearts. bc"cft only Il short wear since
by Ill" death of their own darling child.
They asked her no questions as she
grew stronger daily. and Edna did not
cnliyhtcn them. Ii seemed as if IL pail.
never to b" lifted. hung over her young
life. She remembered all that the
messenger her father had sent for her
had ilnpartd to her-tlr,t he alGnc hid
placed her ut the seminary years agonr.
and with him had perShrd the mystery
of her young life, all hopes of estab-
fishing her identity, of finding her
father. She had been cast upon the
world alone. with no claim upon her
past life, and the mystery of her true
identity WAS Il mystery still.
No clain.' save oln'-lsaymnnl. Her
heart beat anyiously as she thought of
him. 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 remembered all her guide had told
her. .-..e must never communicate
with any of her old friends until She
saw hcr father. 1t might mean peril
trouble for him. Oh. how tho per-
pleNitirS of her situation frctted her.
4 week passed by. She was strong
once mofr. All one day Edna reflect
| ed seriously. That night, glanci1g low
ingly at the faces of her kind friends,
She told them of her resolve.
You nave been like an own father
aid mother to me-" she n,urmurcd,
gratefully 81 can never forget YOU
never cease to- love you, butt am
going away"
"Going away" sighed the kindly Mrs.
Blake.
"Ycs: I must see some friends. Ihrp
1 will return. then | may DO glad of
Sour happy. happy home. Please do
not question nu', but must go.
Reluctantly they bad" ncr sood-oy
the next morning. The flrn:cr 'lrovc
her over to the railroad station. In
| tho new garments with which her Old
torn and hc(lraggled attire had been
replaced no one recognized htr as the
supposed victim of the bridge disaster,
an event st strangely that Mr. Blake had
not heard Of Edna had Il fcw dollars
in her pocket. She bought ticket
taking her half way to IIopcdalr, kiss
cd the fathcrly farmer go'"l-by, prom
ised to write or return within a few
days. and tho train whirlrd away.
AT the terminus She sold her watch.
her Journey. Ali lie way She WAS
/ ~ 1H.hnt Sl,n should Ill
thing in the memory of her guides
strange warning about the mystery
that clouded her fathers life impelled
her 10 secrecy i'll all hrr movements,
and when she reached IIoprdale at
noon She trusted to her attire and IL
heavy veil to conceal her identity.
She haunted the vicinity of the semi
nary. She would try to get word to
Beatrice. Finally, she addressed Il
strange student. The reply to her
questions chilled and disconnected her.
Miss Mercer had left thr seminary two
weeks previous.
Then Raymond-shc must find him
now. She could tell him everything.
While he cllu"ivOred to got some trace
of her father, She would return to the
BlakcS and make hcr home With them.
il w;ls just when she finally rang at
the dccr-bcll of til. Marshall residence.
A servant informed h"c that Alr.
Marshall was not at hone. Hc had
gone to the hotel With his father, the
colonel
What SHALL do? Oh. a:n SD fear
full of making a mistake. but l must
see Raymond. Who else can l appeal
to III my u;ltertainty:'
1nbiously, und,ril.Nlly, Edna walked
towards the village hoStalry. 1t WAS
quite dusk, and She was very tired
when she reached the place.
Mechanically. almost, she ascanded
the stairs leading to the ladies' parlcr,
and sank to Il cushioned chair. think,
ing wondering, hopin. She was doing
whar vas cminenlly proper, aid fol
the best.
Footsteps on he stairs brought hcl
to hcr feet. If ii was Il servant. sht
would ask her to- try and iiud Mr.. Ray
mond Marshall and his father and
send them to ncl-but it was no serv
ant. The familiar form of DIR. Simns
passed the door, and following him was
il clcrcal-looking man, and the former
Was saying:
MIR. Marshall is waiting for us. Thi
, way, sir"
, Mr.. acknowledgements! He was il
the hotel, then! What meant th'
/, words of the doctot? Why w,s th
I miniS:erial-looking man here! For :
few moments the p"rrlcX"d girl linSrl
ed. Then. involuntarily, she stole fron
a the room and down Il corridor.
The sound of voices through the opc
y door of IL darkcncd room drew her I
, its threshold. Ii w;,s the parlor of III
a suite occupied by Beatrice Mercer. I'LL
7 half-open door OF the communicatn
y apartments admitted the sound of SD
q Gmn, impressive words.
y Was she dreaming? Half stunnc
}, she staggered across the room an
= pcerad into the next.
Beatricc-ltaymond miniStcr-Co
. Marshall. The two former With hand
. united, one lying on Il couch. the othcl
y she fancied, bending tcnderly tow;r
her.
4 Oh! surely, this was some dclirium c
the senses. hcr old fever returned
p No. for just then came the solemn
- sOmber words from the lips of the clcl
. synan:
- "And you. Raymond Marshall, d
take Beatrice Mercer as your legal
Z welded wife. to cherish and protct
i while life shall last!.'
4 Inc unhappy ,;.l rsclcd where Sll
). stood. Her senses seemed lcscriin
her Clnging to the door-knob for sll!
+ port, pcering. Mortified, pulsatins, ST.
y drew the door open.
. She saw Raymond Marshall sta,
stare, recoil-hc alone. Her SelS
9 took in the scene as the crownillg til
!; leau of set of scenes in her YOU!
r life that had brought wreck. hcHl
break the disaster to her FOL
i homes.
/ Then she turned and fled, sick
soul. atrrightcd. appalled, \ voi'
J, seemed TO call her, but she hceu,
it not.
n Out through the portals of the hot
I she sped. down the street like one ma
past the limits of the town. into ii
Somber forest.
At tho foot of Il giant oak she s;l