The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1895-03-21

be, and old and sorrowful, for ono day
of my old life with him would take all
the youngness out of me. Perhaps
your conscience wculd hurt you little
because you had driven me back for
would not have come but for you. The
thought that your kindness TO me
would injure your good name made me
miserable. DIR. Johr wrote how your
political prospects would be ruined
political prospects is right, is it not?-
and you couldn't be governor or any
thing"
"Minny, say no more" cried Oliver,
his voice trembling, my dear little
girl. 1t breaks my heart. DIR. John
was cruel TO write such nonsense; he
was too eager to serve me. ] don't
want office; and would face the SLAM
der of the world to spare you mo-
mcnt's pain"
She trembled so at his words he
stopped in the midst of sentence, re-
proaching himself for his lack of self
control. They were silent few mo-
mcnts; then she said, with her old
smile:
Now we've made up-hnven't we?
and you are Just as nice as you were
that night, so please may my dog run
"A little on the snow?"
"Of course" he said, and set free the
small animal, who darted after birds,
barking joyously. Among the dis
comforts of having an erratic mistress
were long confinement in cold dark
cars and surrcptitious journcyings un-
der shawls and in baskets; so in these
latter days of sudden journeys and inn
prisonment Skye had grown to prize
his hours of freedom. Perhaps in his
heart, though, he willingly endured
nights in the baggagc-car for the Joy
OF. being rid of that red-faced, black
eyed something who slept so much and
whom he must never walicn with n
happy bark or jump. How many
times on account of that red-faced
thing who cried had his darlings aunt
secuted him out of doors with broom,
saying: Scat, you doEl there, you've
walked the baby again" Now his dear
mistress was like her old self, and he,
Skye, though he never would tell, had
seen Miss Hannah and that baby slinlx-
ing away from the house in Maine like
criminals, and he had never noticed
their departure by one small bark, for
fear they might return.
II am very hungry, said Mrs. Minny
as the carriage turned back to the city,
and, as my dog is hungry too, it would
be n good idea for you to take us to a
private room in some restaurant, where
we can feed Skye on the carpet when
the waiter is out"
There was nothing to do, of COURSE,
but to accede to this demand; the very
fact that she was hungry appealed to
divers generous heart. lie thought,
however, as they went up the stairs to
cozy private supperroom, this would
sound unpleasantly to a jury. He
could even fancy the attorney for the
prosecutions question: Ibid you, Mr..
Oliver, think this proceeding proper
one? Does society consider 1t discreet
for an unmarried man to take a young
married LADY to such place in the alb
scnce of her husband?" etc. Still. Mrs.
Minny enjoyed everything so much,
Oliver forgot his fears, and was merry
enough in his way. The dog, gorged
with food, showed off his most anus
ing tricks, which Mrs. Minny admitted
he never would do before when stran-
gers were present.
II think he is really getting fond of
YOU" she said, tenderly.
Oliver, aware of the Stiffness of it, but
pleased at that trustful glance, said he
hoped so.
lie left Mrs. Minny at hotel, regis
hpr nj an
room for her, then with almost n sense
of relief walked to another hotel, a
long distance away. He hoped the spy
might be following: once or twice he
looked behind, but there seemed no
one. At his hotel telegram awaited
him. 1t was from clerk in his office:
"Dr Achorn tolcgraphed from Pueblo to you
in Denver Henri dc Restaud died this morn
ing at the insane asylum Funeral in Denver.
telegraphed him you were In Chicago"
a second telegram was brought Oil
yer just as he was going to bed it was
from DIR. John:
Tell Mrs DC Restaud. They need not come
on-too late for funeral Was unconscious,
left no message Glad you are with them.
JOHN ACHoRS."
Death had released the suit for di-
vorce; 1t would never be brought, and
the vengeance of a,crazed brain was
over. With quick beat of his heart
Oliver realized Mrs. Minny was free at
last; perhaps she could learn to care
for him some dny--with a swift repul-
sion as he thought OF the dead far
across the plains. Yet for once death
had been kind to the living, and who
was there to mourn Henri de Restaud? A.?
| His mother died in his boyhood, his
father drove him from France, his wife
hated and feared him, his child would
never see his face, and his servants
were only kept by lavish payments.
So men may make a mockery of living,
a shame of days, may be blots on this
| fair earth, useless in a useful world,
may cause but pain and sadness, and
| go into eternity more fricndlcss, more
wrctched in their self-iniiicted degra-
! dation, than the outcast dog Sinking
! through the alleys of city.
CHAPTER TX.
Mrs, Minny was oddly pale and quiet
when Oliver met her in the hotel par
lor. She looked as IL she had not slept;
and his heart throbbed at the pain he
had caused her. OF course she had
worried about her strange position and
/ the trouble in Denver on account of it.
| He could tell her at least the fear OF
the divorce was over. Death had set
tied the case. Yet it was hard TO tell