The Caucasian. (Clinton, N.C.) 188?-1913, 1893-10-19
lf7covpNSx1as2 1 a.O.WvwlON COZ

Mi, Fairbanks lie took the let
ter from MS pocket. hut seemed Ioath
10 part with H. 1t j. not a pleasant
letter, but / felt ! could not answer it
before seeing YOU
A yvintry smile passed over Fairbanks
face:
Don't hesitate bccahse Of its unpleas-
antncss. Lorimer am not easily
iiOorcd nowaday7.'
"Fairbanlts. were you ever married."
The question was asked 50 suddenly,
and was in itself, seemingly, 50 totally.
inconsequcntial. that for second Fair,
banks quailed perceptibIy. Then his
blue eyes flashed fire:
What in the devil has that to do with.
our business? / promised to help You,
70 bring two obstinate old people 10 a
sense OF what they owe others. | felt
sorry for Ida. But did not agree to-
turn my own private affairs inside out,
for your entertainment, Mr.. Lorimer."
"FDrgive me-" said Dennis, as gently
as a woman could have said it, but
there's fresh Snarl in affairs, and | am
more bewIldnred than ever. Ny life,
worth having, Fairbanks, is being
slapped by this suspense. | wish had
told your sister the whole truth before
I left White Cliffs; for she had been
nursing n wrong impression ever since
the day her father found US together in
the summer house and ordered me of
the premises. She thought was fright
ened off by him. She refused to come
10 see me when was up there skulkins
around the place like whipped cur,
until sent her word by John that |
could give her some information about
you. Then she came, God bless her,
through the darkness, over the rough
wild bayou path, and flooded my life
for one blessed hour with sunshine.
She loves me, Sibley; she tells me she
would marry me and come away with
me, but for leaving her father 80 help
less and alone. She thinks you ought
to come home and lift that burden from
her shoulders, Fairbanks; and, by
Heaven, 50 do |. There is too much at
stake here for her and for me to stand
on a point of etiquette with you. l
have already given up home and mother
for her. She is ready to give up home
and father for me. | dared not even 60
near White Cliffs; for mother, stern,
unbending saint that she is, swore that
she would never see or speak to me I'M
til came to her and told her that had
given up all desire to marry Ida Fair
banks. That | never will do-never, by
all that is sacred
81 can support her myself. Sib-
ley. Thank Heaven I've gained in
brain and muscle since climbing out of
the old rut, and we can be happy before
we grow old and tired, if you will only
do your part and set Ida free. That
is" he touched the letter with one
fnger-"if this doesn't put a fresh
stumbling block in our way"
Fairbanks made gesture of impa-
thence.
1--WE have gone over all this ground
before, Lorimer, and, | had hoped, for
the last time. That left Glenburnie in
fit of temper there is no denying. Fa-
Their simply grew unbearable in his
tyranny. l believed, however, that
after l came away he would renounce
that brainless vow of his, and resume
his proper place as head of his estate.
l heard from you the very first have
ever known of Ida's hardships. l wrote
three letters to him and one to her
When they all came back to me with
unbroken seals, gave it up. told yor
the other night that had something tc
do in town that must be settled; after
1t was settled | would return to Glen
burnie and take charge of the place
Then you and Ida, my boy, may marry
and laugh the old vendetta into thu
grave while you are both still young"