Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1896-09-24

Y AINK/ nope lot, WHICH
m Joined to the re-
membrance OF VII
ola's grief and persistency in seeking
to avoid me had exercised a great ef-
feet upon me, so great that ! began
to dread the promised disclosure. Until
II was made, could at least tell my
self that some day matters would come
right. The look l had seen the last IN
Viola's eyes haunted me day and night
The last words / heard her speak,
Julian, farewell" rang in my ears,
Both look and words told me that she
loved me, but told me that hopeless
misery was to be our lot No wonder
l began to wish to postpone the knowl-
edge OF the worst!
We went to hotel in London. j
was moody and miserable-a cheerless
companion to the man to whom now
chung as for support and strength,
Somehow, Eustace Grant seemed to be
the only creature to whom could turn
in my trouble for sympathy and aid,
He was very good to me In those days
He was more than,a friend, more than
brother. But, in spite OF the COM
passion which knew he felt for me,
no word which encouraged the faintest
hope passed his lips. sympathy Is
precious, but I.wanted hope. soas,.sa q
The days went by until I guessed
that Violas departure must be near at
hand. / grew nervous and sleepless.
Wild thoughts of flying back to France
and seeing her once more shot through
me. To see her, touch even her hand
once more, before l learned the fatal
secret which had by now brought my
self to believe would part us forever.
"When does she sail?" | asked Grant
abruptly one night.
"The day after tomorrow"
"From where?"
From Havre."
In forty-eight hours she would be
gone. In forty-eight hours l should
know why she had left me.
"Eustace," I said, "before 1 learn
what there is to learn there is some
thing should like to do. Viola is my
wife. Whether she has acted rightly
or wrongly, shall soon know; but
must make provision for her future"
"Yes," said Grant. THAT you should
most certainly do"
Come with me to my solicitors to-
morrow. will give him instructions.
Grant nodded, so wrote at once and
made the appointment.
I resolved to do all / had purposed
doing before Viola left. BY this act
could at least show her that, whatever
the pending revelation might be-
loved and trusted her. ! told Grant
Of my intentions and wondered that he
expressed so little surprise at what
under the circumstances, might be well
sailed generous, II not Quixotic.
1T will be just and fair" he said
quietly. do it, as you suggest, al
once" .t
The next afternoon found us at my
solicitors. The large tin box, labeled
Julian Lorraine, Esq" was pulled
down, busted and opened. The notes
which, two years ago, had been taker
respecting the settlement were looked
I'D and produced. 1t was arranged tha
Grant should be one trustee, and my
solicitor, in whom l put great faith
the other. All was to be done with al
little delay as possible. smiled sad
ly, perhaps bitterly, as thought 4
was to be done for the sake of one whG
was eager to put thousands of miles
between us.
was looking through some papers
among which / found one endorsed
Copy of Julian Loraine's will"
drew it out, opened it, and held it to
ward Grant. "See," / said, there Il
my title to all l possess. What a diff
ference those few lines made to me a
the time! Now, little good, after all
they have done me.'
Shortest will I ever read, Mr.
Grant" said the solicitor. If ever,
one made so simple will as that law
yers would starve."
Grant, without much show OF inter
est, took the paper in his hand AM
ran his eyes over it. Suddenly h
stopped short and stared at it like on
who sees ghost. Never before had
seen mans face and bearing s
changed in a single second. l was pos
\ itively frightened.
what is the matter?" cried.
He turned to the solicitor. wi
you leave us alone for one minute
he said; "only one minute?'
: The solicitor looked surprised at th
I brusque request, but, nevertheless
| courteously vacated the office.
! Grant seized my arm with grip