The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1896-08-19
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CHAPTER XXI.

HASTY WORp AMI fC<NASa-n6-'I
DR.. Philips, whose recognized partner
Brian became, had known him from the
hour of his birth, and on this account
and because. too, of the deep friendship
entertained for his father, he took more
than usual interest in him.
Il want to see in you the worthy sue
cessor Of my old friend" he said one
day. You can work out an honorab!e
career. and YOU should. You owe IL
mot only to his memory but also to that
dear, sweet wife of yours. Let her ue
your inspiration. I promised your 1atner
when he was dying that would sct the
part Of a friend to her. don't believe
{ can do that more effectuauy than by
helping you. .u.,,+
As done for me, see Margaret as the
prompting motive. This prevents any
feeling Of conceit on my part, and am
willing that she shall have the we'll
deserved credit, but, nevertheless. my
wlndless sails flap rather doIefully.
Dr.. Philips says I have a dear, sweet
wife. What do you think Of that, Mar
garrett"
: That he is a man given to over
praise" replied Margaret, glancing up
from the scarf she was embroidering.
"A very nice man, though" she added,
turning to her work once more. 80
good to me and so good to you.
He was standing behind her chair,
and bent his head to look into her eyes.
Nervous under such close contact she
started UP, and made a pretense OF ar
ranging some books upon small table.
The sigh with which his eye followed
her awakened in her heart some twIngs
of remorse for what, she felt obliged to
confess, was an unreasonable betrayal
Of ill-huumor. >.
Come back to your chair, Margaret.
You can be very cruel sometimes.
Have you any right to blame me,
Brian?"
A glance at his face made her regret
this question the second it passed her
lips, but before she could recall it he
had left the room, with the words des-
tined to echo in her heart through many
long, bitter days.
no, Margaret. No right at all. I
see your love is not for me-"
A few minutes later she heard the
sound of his horses hoofs on the drive
outside. It was too late now. She
must wait until his return. Then she
would tell him how sorry she was.
She wondered why the moments
dragged 80 heavily, scarcely an hour
had passed since Brian had left her; it
seemed more like three. The sound OF
some disturbance down stairs came to
her ears. With nervous start she
listened anxiously. There was no mis-
taking the hurried footsteps and sub
dued voices. Something unusual had
happened.
With a mind filed with terrible dread,
and a heart beating to almost suffoca-
tion. she flew down the steps, along the
hall, and into the library, ard there
No need to ask the matter now. During
a second, in which she seemed to die a
hundred deaths, she took in the white
face and still form upon the sofa, and
then, without even cry, but with an
expression that fixed itself indelibly
upon the minds of those who saw it,
she knelt beside this remnant OF the
life and strength OF an hour before, and,
taking the cold hands between her own,
soothed and pressed them in her effort
to bring back their lost warmth. Poor
hands, a little while ago she had shrunk
lyOm IQSlE COuluCl, diN hON IiOJ "OA . 1i-
powerless, too helpless to respond even
TO her touch; yet she would still hold
them, and, perhaps, after time he might
feel. She would lay her heart on his,
he would hear its beating and might
understand. Shs would
Margaret.
She heard her name repeated softly;
she felt gentle touch upon her shoul-
der, and strong hand lifting her from
her crouching position, and she raised
her face, haggard and drawn with suf-
iering, to meet DR.. Philips sympathetic
glance.
Don't give way" he said kindly, see
ing the question in her eyes. We must
get him to his room, and meanwhile we
may hope that things are not 80 bad as
they SEEM"
poor child" he murmured after he
had left her; "and poor Brian. / little
thought, when I saw him SO we'll and
strong yesterday, that to-day he would
be so near death. A sad ending to his
young career.
While Margaret sat by Brian's bed,
trying in the pain and remorse which
filed her heart to overfowing to make
the most of the few attentions she could
lavish upon him, thought came to her
like ray OF hope.
Il will ask him to come," she said
under her breath. Il will ask him tO
come. Did you call me, Brian?" She
bent over the bed and gazed mutely
upon the motionless face. No. Brian
had not called, and with a heartbroken
Sigh she turned away to write the tele-
gram which was to tell Wilson OF
Brian's danger.
And three hours later Wilson came
Well might Margaret say, as her hand
rested in his sympathetic clasp:
Il felt so sure that you would come
Your presence gives me strength ant
hope. I feel that he will be safe il
your hands"
AS safe as these hands can make
him, Mrs. Leigh. Please God, you
confidence will not be misplaced"
Margaret herself scarcely realized the
extent OF this confidence until she had
taken Wilson to Brian's room, ant
waited with a suspense that amounted
to agony the opinion which she fel
would mean so much.
She watched his face anyiously, bu
1t revealed little, and only by subtl
intuition did she understand that h
considered Brian's state most critical.
With the last CLEAN OF hope dvini
from her heart, she followed lin from
the room.
The truth" she pleaded, pressiE;
her hand to her eyes. The whole
truth. All! you hesitate. That is NOR
cruel still. ! can bear the truth best.
Poor child" he answered. You mus
mot give way to this despair. Yet