The Dickinson press., 1895-04-06
-,4,utrine BloQnt's love.
sY THE DucnEs,.

3UCHEs1.
AND Blackwood-now, for the first
time. he understood his evident reluc-
tance to visit Warrenne Hall, a reluc-
n that at the moment had seemed
10 Sir Mark SO singular. Poor Craven.
tnough 1t appeared to Warrenne just
then, standing there full Of life and
health above the dead man, that ii
b!ackWo0d had been carrying as sore
q heart In his bosom rs he himself was
carrying now. his lot was by far the
happier Of the two. At this point in Ills
meditations the keeper appeared ut
some little distance among the trees,
and Sir Mark went hurriedly to meet
him.
"Mr. Craven has shot himself" he
explained. briefly. "ltun to the house
or n OF the nearest cottages and
bring something to carry him home
upon"
After to what seemed to the silent
watchers an interminable delay, tie
man returned bringing with him SOM
farming hands and a rude impromptu
litter, on which. with gentle, kindly
hands, they laid poor Craven and bore
him In solemn awe-struck speechless-
ness to the Hall.
Here they were met by Archibald
Blount. shocked out of all his indolent
selhshness as he gazed with uneasy con-
science at his nephew's corpse, and re-
membered with deep remorse, for the
first time. how fatal all that past scene
In the manor library had been to the
happiness Of the poor boy now lying
dead before his eyes.
They carried Blackwood upstairs. a"d
laid him upon lis bed, after which doc
tors were sent for, as q matter Of duty.
though In this cas- there was not the
falntest ray of hope to sustain the
mourners with fond delusive dreams
until the nnal fiat should be uttered.
When all was done that tenderness
and love could do. Lady Warrenne
went down stairs pallid and heartbrok-
en-. to where Sir Mark was sitting in his
private room, his face buried in his
hands.
II have come to tell you all about It."
she said. going over to him, and laying
her hand lightly on his shoulder.
He rose, placed a chair for her, with
a weariness in his manner that at my
other time most surely must have
touched her, and then motioned for her
to proceed. She told him her whole
story from beginning to end, CLOSING
over nothing, making nothing worse,
and waiting when her sad story was
finished to hear what he would say, to
receive all the hard words all the hard
reproaches which she felt she deserved
Mt his hands-tO reap the fruit of her
fathers sowing.
Warrenne got up and came over to
her In the gathering twilight, pausing
beside her chair.
MY poor darling!" he said gently;
my poor little girl!w And that was all.
Simple words they were in themsel-
YES. but surely h%eaven-born in their
tender pity. Those few loving terms,
coming from the quarter whence She
had least right to expect them. did
more for her certainly than all the
harsh measures that could have been
used. She bowed her fair sorrowing
head upon her hands, and burst into
bitter, albeit soothing tears.
DO not cry. my dear" said Sir Mark,
perhaps it is better us it is. Poor
Blackwood!-his was a hard life, and q
harder fate; but yet, Katherine, there
Is another who. to know that he was
loved by YOU as he has loved, would
gladly change places with Blackwood
this moment. oh. darling, I think of
the two my portion is the harder to
bear! But tell me now what you would
wish me to do for you and ] will do it."
I only want to go away-to be any
where by myself-to be Alone" Rather
inc sobbed. family, without raising her
head.
80 you SHALL" Warrenne answered,
bravely, although O sharp spasm Of
agony shot across and disfigured his
handsome Saxon face for an instant.
"You shall 60 away by yourself but not
anywhere I have another estate In
Warwickshire, a prettyssecluded place
enough. that shall be all your own ex-
clusivel.- :. you will have It,"
land you?" his wife asked, looking
Up at him anxiously for the first time.
"Oh, rs for me-" Sir Mark replied,
e%ndeavoring to speak cheerfully, but
turning away his face that she might
not see what havoc the last few hours
had wrought upon it, II shall 70
abroad and return once more to my
old wandering habits! Do not trouble
yourself about my welfare: I shall do
very well. I dare say. But in your new
home, Katherine you must learn to be
happier than you have ever been in this.
my poor love; yet I meant to make
your life q pleasant one, no matter how
disnlally I failed. You will learn to
forget all these late griefs and sorrows
in time. when you have no one to re-
mind you of them, not ven me, as I
promise faithfully you shall not see me
again until YOU wish for me. A non
sensical speech" he added, with a little
wistful smile, that only proves to my
self how long my Punishment will bel"