Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1895-09-06

wedding present?'
He spoke of it," her eyes falling
enbarrassedly. "But now
"Well?" as she paused.
"Oh, nothing, only my engagement
so far as it was an engagement, is
broken" "
"BrokenW fire in his eyes as he sprarg
impulsively toward her, but after step
he seemed to bethink himself and moved
on to the window, parting the lace cur
tain to stare down into the street
"What ought one to say on such an &C.
casion?" he asked presently in an odd,
muffled voice. congratulations seem
hardly in order.
II don't know that there is call for
any remark at ALL, " she replied rather
tartly, and after a moment as though
she would change the subject, she ask
ed, And when do you 60 back to K 81"
Never. I am going to leave the
country" He came moodily back from
the window and resumed the place near
her chair. IT am sick Of cattle, sick
Of the life, sick of the whole business.
It is like dropping buckets into empty
wells and growing old with drawing
nothing up. And want change I
must have 1t. 1 have been offered the
management Of an outfit in New Mex
leo, and am going there as soon as I
can get away"
"To New Mexico!" Edith gasped. It
was as if he had said he would 60 to
the other end of the world. "Ah, why
will you? Why will you not 60 back to
your father if you are tired of this life?
I have thought of it so much, so wish
ed you would CO." flashing an appeal
ing glance full in his eyes.
"Have you, dear little girl?" his
heart speaking in the glance he gave
back to her.
my friend, Mrs. Hallet, with whom
1 have been staying in Denver" she
went on hurriedly, her color rising,
twas talking the other day about her
brother who died. He was killed, but
it seems that his poor old father will
never admit that he is dead; that he
will not some day come back to them.
He has his room always ready for him.
Every day he prays for him. I could
not but think of you as I heard it, and
with tears in my heart for the poor old
father who somewhere must be mourn
ing in just that way for you. All, can
you not see that your hard, unyielding
obstinacy is cruel to him; that you have
punished him more than he deserved in
all these years? Can you not guess how
his heart must be eaten out with sorrow,
waiting for the opportunity to atone
waiting, like that poor father of the Paul
who died, for the son who will not re-
turn to him?"
He had buried his face in his hands
as she went on, and when he looked up
his eyes were flashing with unshed
tears. "You do not know, oh, you can
not guess what you have been telling
mel" he cried brokenly. "It is my IA
ther you are telling me about-my ia
ther! 1 could not have believed it; that
he cared for me like that! But it is
true Barbara says so. Dear little
Bab!" the last in eager questioning, as
though he could not even now believe
what he had heard.
"You are her brother-you!" her face
paling. "You-Paul Brown?''
my name is Paul Brown Ir:-ting.
ton, at your service, he explained, with
boyish delight in her amazement.
"And you have been living under a
false name all these years?"
Mot exactly. Brown was my mid
die name. 1t was my mothers, and l
thought 1 had right to it. I simply
dropped the other after tho railroad
accident when was supposed to have
been killed on my way west. I had in
tended to take that train, and my berth
was engaged, which was how they came
to have my name in the list of passen
gers in the sleeper. But happened to
miss it by hair OH account of running
against one of my fraternity men and
stopping too long talking with him, and
the next day when the accident was re-
ported I don't know whether l was glad
or sorry that some one had blundered so
far as was concerned. At all events, it
appeared that to all intents and pur-
poses l was dead, and | decided to re-
main So"
"And you have lived near your sister
all these years and never let her know?
How could you be- so hard!"
Il was dead Why should risk en-
barrassing my friends by rising from
egravewhen had not thesmallest rea-
son to suppose that was wanted? kept
run Of my sister in way through the
society items in the Denver papers,
from which it appeared that she had
not the smallest need of me- She was in
the swim, floating on the top wave,
while had all I could do barely to
keep my head above water. Had she
been in want of any help which I could
have given, had there even been any
time in all the long years when l could
have gone to her without my attitude
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