Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1894-03-15
CHAPTER vi.
In Peril.

Mjnna Bennington was a shrewd girl,
and she had Seen, on her first meeting
with Cicely that morning, that he lat
ter had passed a troubled night. or
course, she knew that the trouble was
In some way conn 4ted with RadStock,
and guessed that there had been a try
ing scene before he WAS got rid of; but
she had the tact not 10 allude TO the
subject even when the two ladies were
loft together.
AT last the unhappy young wife took
refuge in the nursery; and there, hang
ing over the innocent babies, she did
find some bitter-sweet comfort But
when the luncheon bell rang, she had
again TO face Minna with her searching
eyes and busy wits; and when the meal
was ended, Cicely went into the drawing
room with her sisterin-law, following
their usual custom. For she knew that
she must make an effort to carry on
life as If no frightful break had oc-
Cured in its level m%onotony. So they
sat down together, the n with her
embroidery, the other to the making OF
a dainty muslin pinafore; and with her
fingers busy Cicely found that a dull
rest came to her thoughts. But she
was not at ease. When the front door
bell rang loudly she started up with
wildly beating heart, the shadow OF
some new calamity already darkening
her face.
Then a telegram was brought in, and
iCicely took il, and held it in her hand
afraid to open the envelope. The SER
want Was waiting, salyer In hand, to
know whether there was an answer.
Minna rose, and touched her sister-in-
laws arm gently.
New, dear, you had better read it.
You have TO know what 1t says 1T
some time or other" whispered the girl
icoaxingly.
Cicely opened the telegram, which
ishe had crumpled up in her hand.
The message WAS this:
.'Shall call on you this afternoon. Be
at home. WILLIAM BENNINGTON"
Cicely re-read 1t aloud, with astonish'
ment and some relief.
TT is from Dukes uncle, isn't itE'
she said.
"Ye es," answered Minna obviously.
! 1t was clear that she did not share
the faint satisfaction the other felt.
''You don't know Uncle William, do
.youg' she asked rather anXiously
while her sister.in law sat still, regard.
ing the paper with a CLEAN of hope
in her eyes.
"No. Why do you ask like that?'
"Because-well, because you seemed
glad 10 hear he was coming"
Aud are not you?"
Minna shook her head emphaticaiiy.
s. No"
He is-dreadfully good; so good that
he TUNED his son adrift for something
quito trivial.H wanted Duke to marry
his daughter ard take his sons place
10 him; but to do him justice, Duke
wouldn't"
'Of course not" said Cicely warmly.
1T was a temptation, though. They
say Uncle William win leave a quarter
lof a million when he dies-'cut up well
Is, / believe, the correct term. And
now he hates Duke for getting on with.
out his money, and for living in a man
'ner re doesn't approve. He's very re,
ligious, you know
Cicely's face frightened again. Her
:own father and mother were religious,
.and the words suggested to her simpli,
city of life and manners, kindly con,
.Sideration for others: with a touch OF
harmless P~uritanism.
Minna had not been left by herself
more than half an hour when the door
bell rang again.
Very reluctantly she stepped through
1.-THE French window on To the lawn;
land resisting the temptation to llnger
lin the neighborhood, strolled away
Iamong the trees toward the fsnpond,
just as she heard the drawing-room
door open TO admit her uncle.
MI. Bennington was a stout man. of
the middle height with n narrow fringe
of black hair round a perfectly bald
crown, and a face which was shrewd,
hard and rather vulgar. He glanced
round the room with small, bright
black eyes, which took in every detail,
and he pressed his lips together with
lmore and more Misrepresentation as he
did so.
If roor Cicely had only known 1t,
ikhe would have spared herself the
trouble Of putting on. to do honor to