Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1895-04-18
LOVES RACE.


The caretaker at No 10, Westphalia
Terrace, leaned on the broom which
she had brought up to help her to an.
sWer the door and looked at me with
disfavor
do you think the landlord knows?"
No answer.
II took out a .half-crown. =
'"Look herer' l said, this coin shaN
be yours if you'll tell me how long
you've been here, who the landlord is,
and anything you might have heard
from the tradespeople about the fami-
ly."
Il never gossip with the tradesfolk,
nor nobody" was her dispiriting reply;
but she gave me the address of a firm
In Gray's Inn and shut the door with
all possible speed, leaving me on the
dusty doorstep.
Imagine the situation. A young man
goes away to Switzerland to the bed
side Of his dying father, and comes
back on the wings Of the wind to lay
his newly-acquired fortune at the feet
of the dearest girl in the world, and
finds her gonAhopelessly. utterly gone
her house desolate, no flowers in the
windows. no furniture in the place,
ITO Let staring from every window.
had only known Clara three months.
I knew not Il single one of her friends
Il knew she had some few relations
her mothers family-but did not even
know their name. The EaneS knew no
one in kensington, and they only knew
me through our cat having fortunately
been killed by their dog.
But was poor then. and poverty is
proud. The Vanes' house, dress. and
mode of life betokened wealth. I
could not tell her l loved her, and
The charwoman opened the door
again and put aut her curl-paper head
to say
There was a funeral afore the sale;
perhaps they'd tell you at the under
taker's.'
A funeral! I hailed passing hanson
and drove straight to Gray's Inn.
, Yes; Mr.. Vane unfortunately died at
one Of our houses-19, Westphalia Ter
race. Left no estate; had systematical-
~ OVc1SuOL Ills iuCOllle. SOIIy i Cdu =
give you any further information"
Not &C lue The tradesmen knew
nothing, the vicar knew nothing, the
police, Of course, knew nothing, and
did nothing but pocket my money and
take things in notebooks with blunt
pencils.
Advertisements failed absolutely.
And so Clara Vane was lost to me-
passed out Of my life completely-leav-
ing me with a really respectable for
tune. which it was entirely out Of the
question for me to enjoy.
I did see her again, 1 di, but not
for four years. -Four long years.
I won't go so far as to say that an
hour never passed in which I did not
think of her. but I'll swear that two
never did. And [ loved her more than
ever
Well, after four years of this life-I
had my own work to do and my other
life to live, but that has nothing to do
with this story-after four years, bust
ness took me to Tunbridge.
I went by an express train. bought
the days papers and got comfortable
corner in a 1irst-class carriage. where
let the papers lay Gil my knee and
dreamed my usual dreams Clara,
Clara Clara.
AS we passed through Halstead Sta
ton the train slowedd for little. I
looked out, with torpid curiosity as
to the gardens, and saw-Clara!
Whizz!-zz-whirr The train had shot
past the station, the carriage windows
ratified, the train vibrated and pulsated
with the increasing speed, and every
pulse and every vibration was carry
ing me away from my hearts heart.
In flash I saw that if went on to
Sevenoaks and got train back, she,
who was obviously waiting for the next
up train, would have left the station
long before reached it. Probably she
was only spending the day at Halstead,
and any search for her there would be
In vain.
broke the glass. pulled the handle
The train slackened, and as it stopped
the guard put his head in at my car
riage window.
why, you're all right" he said.
"Blest il I din't think you was dead
when Z heard that bell! It's wonder
tits connected. Just my luck. too, and
us ten minutes behind already. What
did you do it for, eh?'
Il stopped the train because I'm 60
ing to get out" I said firmly.
Nothing wrong?"
"No; but am going to get out"
He planted himself firmly in the
doorway.
"No, you don't" he said.
was desperate. 1 took out Is
note, laid it on the seat and advanced
towards him.
"And what about my trouble, sir?"
he asked, politely, gazing at the note,
stopping the train, and liable, sir, to
get into trouble"
jumped out Of the carriage; he made
for me deferentially. Our hands touch
I'd. Great is the currency, and it will
prevail. The next minute was speed
ing back along the down line towards
Ealstead Station. My breath came
fast and with difficulty My knees
ached furiously, but I ran on. could
hear distinctly the rumble of the train
n the tunnel behind me-
If the main line up won, it would
Dear her away on its BOSOM; if wen,
should /? pressed my failing legs for
Ward-fought for freer brea th-got it