The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1895-05-29

EulJn llOOklng down, and playing
with her engagement ring rather
hard, after not seeing you for two
years, Arthur.
Arthur Its rather hard on me, be.
ing away for two years and looking
forward to coming home and every
thing, and then to come home to this.
Edith understand that your faith.
er did forge tho check, and laid the
blame on old Esmond, and now his
son has got the letter your father
wrote him on his deathbed and pro-
poses to clear his fathers memory.
You would do as much, suppose?
Arthur-Yes, of course. But we are
in such different positions. You see
the Esmonds are quite out of society.
Besidesi it's all over now-so many years
ago, and it's very hard on me to have
it all raked up now. l haven't done
anything. It's very hard on me.
Edith-And on your mother and
sisters. see that quite.
Arthur-Yes, of course, that was
my first thought. 1 didn't think it
necessary to mention that they were
my first thought. But as / was say
ing, Richard ESmond has no one TO
think of but himself. lie is the only
child, and his mother is dead, and he
has no friends. He Is only an usher,
and no one would think any the better
of him if 1t was cleared.
Edith-He has some friends. You
know, he visits here.
Arthur-Yes, know. That's why.
Nothing would be easier than
for you to get him to give up this
idea of clearing his fathers name.
The man died twenty years ago, and 1
do wish, for my poor mothers sake,
and the girls, OF course, that my
father had let sleeping dogs lie. and
not written that discriminating letter.
Why, l should never be able to stay
in the place if it were known, and we
could not be married for years, and
everything would go wrong. You
will, Edith, won't you?
Edith-Yes, if you wish it. Richard
has lived in the place, though.
Arthur-Yes; but don't tell you
it's all blown over twenty years ago?
What's the good of raking it all upP
Edith-You really wish me to try
to get this paper for you, Arthur
Arthur-Yes, dearest. Why, how
pale you arc You mustn't let it up
set you-A little thing like this. 1t
will be all over directly.
There he comes down the road now,
with his confounded swagger. 1
can't understand how a man can have
grown up with manner like that,
when his father was convicted of
forgery.
Edith-Convicted. Arthur, not
guilty.
Arthur-Well, 1 said Convicted, ="
dearest, didn'tI? Isay, he's
coming in at the garden gate. What
shall do? / can't meet him.
Edith Hide behind the screen then.
lie hides behind screen.)
Richard Esmond enters. He is tall
and thin, and turns bored eyes ON the
world through double glasses
Richard am Fastening to keep an
important appointment. Areyou very
busy? May stay and chat for awhileP
l have something, I should like to ask
you.
Edith-The world is full Of coinci-
dences, also have something 1 wish
to ask you.
Notwithstanding serious? Yes,
/ see it in your eyes. Give me a
moment to prepare myself. Two
serious subjects in ono morningl The
prospect appalls, and in July, too
Let us talk OF something light for n
few moments. The equalization of
rates orwell, We might have re-
freshing little talk on some set sub
ject, perhaps, as the suburban debat-
ing societies dc.
Edith-Let me be spared the
"aDeuish of fierce debate !"
Richard (deprecatingly) Not fierce.
On such a morning as this who could
debate fiercelyP 1 have besn thinking
of writing an article for the Fort.
nightly on the influence of the County
Council on modern lyric poetry.
Edith (smiles in spite of herself,
but twists her hands neryously)--
Mr., Esm0pd, are you ever seFipqsl