The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1896-10-20

: OQLy n moon as eQOQ0 from ABOVE
witnessed the anguish depicted upon
that beautiful, upturned face.
my father-O1l my fatherl' she
moaned. Her eyes closed.
Caravan lifted her in his arms and
bore her into the house, up to her room,
ard as gently laid her upon her cot,
the pillows of which were scarcely
winter than that pale, unconscious
face, his heart smote him as never be
fore for the lie that he had told her
this gentle, loving, trusting girl.
b it said to his credit, however, that
with all his villiany, Caravan loved
this girl with all the strength and
power of his soul. He loved none
other. He loved only her with a pas
sion that was all bit idolatrous in it's
worship. His every thought was for
her. His very life was hers. He would
have bartered his soul to the Prince of
Darkness, If thereby he might make
her more happy. AS the tender grass
is swayed by the gentle bree z9, so was
he by her slightest wish.
Was she happy7 Yes, intensely hap
by, but never more so than when to
gether they strolled along the endless,
she'll strewn beach, or rested beneath
the feathery palmettos, or fl oated far
out on the smoothe, dark waters be
meath the Southern stars.
She trusted him with a blind. con
fiding love that was beautiful in it's ex
exemplification, though, perhaps, ques
tionable in it's wisdom. When he spoke
she believed him implicitly, without
for a moment doubling or questioning
the t~ruthfulness of his assertions or
statements. In her eyes he vas per
fect-all that was noble, good and true.
In her great love for him she had en-
dowed him traits and qualities that
no mortal man ever possessed.
How sad was to be her awakening!
How bitter the hour when the scales
would fall from her eyes and she would
see him. as others saw him-the william
that he q
X x X X X X X
It was late in the afternoon, about
a week after the incident above re-
lated, that Rose started for a walk or
the seashore. It was the first time she
had left the house since the evening on
which she was told that her father was
dead. The shock had proved a severe
@~4 I'D @o0 &Lok che mould mt cNnn
recover from-for next to her husband
her father occupied a place in her heart
that none other could hold. He had
been both father and mother to her
since the earliest days of her recollec
ton, and the thought that he was dead
that never again would she g his
face Or hear his voice, was almost more
than she felt that she could bear.
On this afternoon Caravan sat in the
library, busily engaged in the examina
ton Of some plans pertaining to the
remodeling of the mansion. He, too,
had suffered. Toe knowledge that he
had given her pain, hurt him worse
than all else besides. He did not see
her when she passed down the hall
and out the door, or, perhaps, he would
have accompanied her.
She had gone only a short distance,
not more than a hundred yards from
the house, when turning a bend in the
path, she came face to face with a ger
tleman-a stranger. Removing his hat
and bowling politely, he said:
Excuse me, madam; have I the
pleasure of addressing Mrs. Caravan
Mrs. Hugh Caravan2"
"You have" she answered. do you
wish to see my husbands"
II do" he answered; IF you will be
so kind as to direct me, I'll not trouble
you further"
You will find him 10 the library, the
first door to the right as you enter the
hall" she answered.
Witha thank you" and another bow,
the stranger turned walked rapidly to
wards the house. He mounted the
steps, entered the hail tapped lightly
upon the half open door.
"Come in" was the response.
He entered, and a moment later stood
facing Caravan who had risen to his
feet.
"This is Mr.. Caravan, I believe, said
the stranger, drawing from his pocket
a folded document.
1T is" was the reply. ITO whom
am I indebted for this visit2"
MY name is Dondegon, answered