The morning times., 1895-09-15
tCopyrlghted)
CHAPTER VI.-(Concluded.)

will save you from any blame-blame yoI
do not understand even now. There is still
time. l will go back to the convent will
you at once. You shall tell me anything;
will tell you everything on the way"
She had already completely restored he
hustere garb and drew the veil across hel
face. With the putting on her Golf she seem
ed 10 have extinguished all the joyous youth
fulness OF her spirit, and moved with the de
liberateness of remuneration toward the
door. They descended the staircase to
gether without word. Those who saw then.
pass made way for them with formalrespect
When they were in the street she said
quietly: Don't give me your arm-sisterS
don't take it," When they had reached the
street corner she turned 1t, saying, This is
the shortestway."
II was Key who was now restrained, ak
ward and embarrassed. The fire of his
spirit, the passion he had felt a moment be-
fore. had gone out of him, as if she were
really The character she had assumed. He
said at last, desperately:
How long did you live in the hollow?''
"only two days. My brother was bring
ing me here to school, but in the stage coach
there was ssme one with whom be had
quarreled, and he didn't want to meet him
with me So we got out at SINNERS and
came to the hollow, where his old friends
Mr. and Mrs. Barker lived
There was no hesitation or affectation
in her voice. Again he felt that he would
as soon have doubted the words of the Sister
she represented as her own.
And your brother-did you live with
him?"
af MDrysvillp
until he took me away. I saw little OF
him for the past two years, for he had ousi-
ness in the mountains-very rough busi-
ness, where he couldn't take me, for 1t
kent him away from the settlements for
weeks 1 think it had something to do
with cattle, for he was always having
new horse. 1 was all aiOre before that,
too; 1 had no other relations; l had no
friends We had always been moving about
So much, my brother ard me. never saw
anyone that liked, except you, and until
yesterday l had only heard you"
Her perfect naivete alternately thrilled
him with pain ard doubt. In his awkward
ness and uneasiness he was brutal
"Yes, but you had must have met some
body-uther nlen-heTe even, when you were
out with your soaoolfelows, or perhaps
on an adventure ike iuis-
Her white Golf turned toward him quickly.
~ never wanted to know anybody else. /
never cared to see anybody else. L never
would have gone out in this way but for
you" she said hurriedly. After pause
she added in q frightful tone: THAT didn't
sound like your vIice then. 1t didn't sound
like it a moment ago, either"
''But you are sure that you know my
voice." he said, with affected gayety.
There were two others in the hollow with
me that night"
~ know that, ton. But know even what
you said. You reproved them for throwing
a lighted match in the dry grass. You were
thinking of us then. krow it,"
"Of u.s." said Key quickly.
'.of Mrs. Barker ana myself. We were
alone In the house, for my brother and her
husband were both away. What you said
seemed to forewarn me and 1 told her.
So we were prepared when the fire came
nearer, and we both escaped on the same
horse"
And you dropped your shoes in your
flight, said Key, laughiDgly, land l
picked them up the next day when I came
to Search for you. 1 have kept them still"
They were her Shoes" said the girl
quickly. II couldn't find mine in our
hurry and hers were too large for ME, and
dropped OFF, She Stopped, and with a
faint return OF her old gladness said: Then
you did come back? knew yuu would
~ should have stayed then, but we got no
reply when we shouted What was that?'
he demanded suddenly.
'Oh, we were warned against speaking
10 any stranger, or even being seen by any |
one while We were alone" returned the |
girl, simply.
But why?" persisted Key.
"Oh, because there were so many high |
waymen and horse stealers in the woods. |
Why, they had stopped the coach only a |
few weeks before, and only a day or two |
ago when Mrs. Barker came down. She saw |
them"
Key with difficulty suppressed a groan. |
They walked on in silence for some moments, |
be scarcely daring TO lift his eyes to the de- |
corous little figure fastening by his side. |
touched by mistrust and pain, |
at last an infinite pity, not unmingled with
a desperate resolution, took possession OF |
him.
al must make a confession to you, Miss
Rivers" he began with the bashful haste of |
a very boy, that is" he stammered, with
laugh, that is-a confession
as If you were really sister or a priest
you know-a sort of confidence to you-to
your dress. ! have seen you, or thought l
saw you before. IL was that which brought |
me here, that which made me follow Mrs.
Barker-my only clue 10 you-to the door
Of that convent. That night in the hollow
saw profile at the lighted window which
[ thought was yours"
Il never was near the window" said
he young girl quickly. 1T must have
3cen Mrs. Barker"
Il know that now" returned Key.
But remember it was my only clue to
Tou-I mean" he added awk wardiy, lit was
he means of my finding you
II don't see how it made you thi nk OF me, |
whom you never saw, to see another wo-
mans profile she retorted, with the faint
st touch of asperity in her childlike voice.
But" she added more gently, and with u
elapse into her adorable naivete, '.most
'eoples profiles look alike
at was not that" protested Key, still
.wkwardly; lit was only that I realized
a dream perhaps"
She did not reply, nd they continued on
a silence. The gray wall of the convent
Tas already in sight. Key felt he had |
chleved nothing. Except for informa-
lon that was hopeless, be had come to no
carer understanding of the beautiful girl
esidehim and his future appeared as vague
s before. And, above all, he was conscious
I an inferiority of character and purpose
0 this simple creature who obeyed him |
i'm so submissively. Had he acted wisely?
You'd 1t not have been better If he bad
1llowed her own frankness, and