The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1897-07-14
~VVVVVVVVVV
ABOVE SUSPICION.

81 never meant he should say
harsh word to me-" sighed poor little
Blanche Everard as though it were
common possibility for stern husbands
to speak quietly to meek little wives.
''He would not now if it had not been
for his mother. L believe Mrs.
Everard has hated me ever since |
crossed the threshold"
There was tap upon the door.
"a notev Blanche calculated, with
little futter of surprise, as
she took the soiled and
crumpled scrap of paper from the
boys dirty fingers and opened it. In
side was written, scarcely legible:
81 believe am dying. Could you
come to me-? The boy will show you
the way. Don't tell John.
"E. T."
Blanche turned the billet and glanced
at the back. 1t was certainly
directed To "NIrs. Everard." and John
and his mother were out for the day,
so she could not consult with either,
and somebody was dying. She guessed
who.
1t was the middle of the afternoon.
and biting blast outside, but she
swiftly donned her fur cloak and babe
the little ragged messenger lead the
! way.
Her face wag quite colorless as she
returned to her room several hours
later, and the sweet eyes were dimmed
as with weeping.
care you ill?" demanded her hus-
band
81 am quite WE'LL" answered
Blanche, meeting his look sweetly, and
replying to Mrs. Everard, ST.. s,remark
upon her pallor 80 unconsciously as
almost to disarm that lady of the sus-
picion which she was generally always
on the watch to find grounds for. And
Lucy had told her already about me
note that had taken Mrs. Everard out
of the house for several hours in the
afternoon.
''It's more than l ever thought you
would submit TO, John" she remarked
to her son in the evening.
"Don't make a mountain out of q
mole-hill, mother" responded John,
with the least touch of impatience, and
thinking remorsefully of the mornings
unkindness to his six months pet. II
dare say the boy came about some
charitable business or other
"Why didn't she tell us where she
had been?" demanded Mrs. Everard,
Sr., maliciously.
''Perhaps she was afraid of another
lecture upon extravaganza. There,
mother, think we had better drop
this subject"
Four or five days later she followed
watching she had found that Blanche
went out every day at three o'clock,
returning barely in time for dinner.
John listened quietly while she told
him. 1t was little odd that Blanche
had never spoken of these afternoon
prOmenades of hers, which seemed
such regular thing too but his con-
science had given him more than one
twinge lately in connection with his
mothers avowed dislike and distrust
of his pretty, unretaliating wife. cts
all right, mother, of course" he said,
resuming his book.
"Well, them" she said, with an un-
wonted pleading mingling with the
resentfulness of her tone, 'if you are
so lenient to her, you will, perhaps,
have some kindness to spare your own
brother" and she gave him a letter
which she had been lingering nerv-
ously all the time.
John Everard read the letter through,
frowning. ''It is the old story" he
said, returning it to her. "He is out
of money and in debt, and he wants
us to foot the bills. / told him the
last time shouldn't do it again.
Whenever Nedis ready, to settle down
to some honorable and useful business
I'll do what can for him in the way
I've told him. But I'll pay no more
debts, aud wouldn't give him more
than crust if he was starving, a,
! long as he goes on this way"
Mrs. Everard dropped the letter
into her pocket, as she turned away
and quilted the room with gloomy
cOuntenance. She was as afraid of hel
stern, eldest son, in way, as she wa,
fond of her youngest, and she knew
there was no appeal from his decision
now.
Her son saw her as she passed
through the hall, and he glanced q
| his watch. 1t lacked ten minutes O
three. In about fifteen minutes Ii,
| heard his Wifes light football cOmins