Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1895-04-25

! cat ever followed"'
She was trembling, and for the mo-
ment Everard paused with a hlanched
cheek, unable to say anything.
You have brooded too long over
this" he said at last, with lame eff
fort at lghtness, and your imagina-
ton creates bugbears from it. The cat
probably saw or smelled a mouse, and
ran after that. Or he may have been
merely erisking about, as cats do, in
the dusk. Think no more of it, Lillian.
Let us bury that troubled past for
ever"
1T Is not possible, Henry she re-
piled, still trembling. Things that
are branded into one can never be for
gotten. Dear Henry, tell me one thing.
DO you know who did that dreadful
thing for which you suffered"
GLOW should l know" he returned,
! in hard voice that he could not con-
troll. 81 do not think it will be known,
Lillian, till the day when all things are
revealed. There is an impenetrable
mystery about it. Let it remain. Why
lift the veil?'
Lillian gazed earnestly upon his
troubled and averted face, and then
said. in low, thrilling tones "Henry,
you know who killed benjamin Lee
it wore your clothes and passed up the
staircase in the dusk that night.
Everard's heart stood STILL and his
temples throbbed. Dear" he replied,
II do know who killed that poor man,
but | do not wish to reveal it. l have
known it for eighteen years and have
seen no cause for revealing it. Such
knowledge would benefit no human
being; it would inhict terrible suffering
on some. Do not tempt me to break
my silence, Lillian; it is point of
honor"
Lillian had dropped the cat on the
grass, and was leaning against the
light iron fence of the paddock. She
now turned, and, claspng Everard's
arm with convulsive force, looked i'm
ploringly in his face,
"rell me-" she cried, tell me that it
is not so-that | am mistaken; that 1t
was Il iream-an evil fancy. Say, oh,
Henry If you love me, say it was not
he!'
she was sobbing now, and CULVER
ing all over in unspea kable agitation
she who was so calm and self-con-
trolled usually. Henry drew her to
him, and strove by carcsses and words
of love to soothe her, but was himself
far too much agitated to be able to de-
ccivc her.
"Ohr she cried, 81 can not bear it!
My Cyril! my own brother; my poor,
poor Cyril! | understand it all now"
"You know, dearest said Everard
at last, with grave, compassionate
tenderness, "that nothing can happen
without the will Of GGa."
Lilian's sobs became quicter at these
words, and after Il time they ceased,
and she lifted her head and looked
back at the lime-tree, beneath the
shade of which they could see the
white head of her sleeping father.
"rhcre is one" said Henry, pointing
to him, "who must never suspect"
"IIe never SHALL" replied Lillian,
striving to regain her habitual self
command. "But oh, my poor, poor
boy! Such awful hypocrisy. | would
not suspect for long time; it seemed
like temptation of the Evil One. Not
until Marons death. | think she
was afraid to let herself think. But
she told me so much when she was dy-
ing. And CyrA--ah, Henry, he was
always weak! But traitor! oh, it
seems Incredible! All, what dark
and terrible mystery our nature Isl
And he let you suffer, you who loved
him so! Oh, my Henry"
"You know, Lillian" repeated Ever
was permitted by the Divine Will"
And the words again had a quieting
effect upon Lillian, who had now re-
gained her serene charm of face and
manner, inwardly torn as she was.
and you saw him?" she asked.
How could he meet you? What
could he say? oh, how can he have
lived this lie, and borne this awful
burden all these years."
Ills burden was heavier than minc,"I
Everard said: and then he described
their meeting in the cathedral. Cyril's
passionate sermon. his terrible agtn-
ton on recognizing him among the
crowded congregation, and his own
lcttcr Of forgiveness to the unhappy
man.
But they each wondered hat he had
not yet answered the letter.
"nouhtlcSS there will be an answer
tomorrow said Everard.
And | must 20 to him and tell him
that | know and pity all, said Lillian.
Yes. there will be an answer TO-
morrow"
Rut the ans ser never came.
TO BE Continued.
A CURE FOR HO2\RSENESS