The Mitchell capital. (Mitchell, Dakota [S.D.]) 1879-1918, 1897-07-23

she remembered how long it was siace she
had either food, wine or sleep. Size went
l,ito Ia coffee house and asked for room.
.She could hardly drag her weak, wearied
lmps up the stairs; she could hardly keep
her tired eyes open until the tea she or
oered was brought up to her.
When she had drunk it she fell into the
oeep sleep of exhaustion. 1t was evening
wheh she awoke; her ideas were MUCH
cie'.rer, but there was q strange, terrible
deeilng IN her head; red mist seemed to
noat before her eyes and obscure every
snlhs; sound like the rushing of waters
MED her ears. She thought that perhaps
the fresh air would do her good. She
arose and went down stairs
ene walked down the high road, and
lhan lovely green lane charmed her. She
went down, and found some grand clover
meadows; she crossed those, wondering
why the earth and sky seemed to meet
why the green world whirled round her.
linen came long, white, hard high road
sAe went down it, little dreaming that she
would never repass it. The shadows OF
evening were beginning to fall, the golden
hight of the sun was fading.
She walked to the middle of the white.
hard road; she heard the sound of car
rage wheels, but it did not seem to her
mat she was in any danger; that she had
better go out of the road; that if she re-
malned where she was she would be run
over; 1T was dusk then, in the evening.
owing to sharp corner, those driving did
not see her. The next thing was cloud
OF dust; the quick gallop of horses; a
woman scream; low cry, and then a
moment of unutterable anguish. Lady
1llda Dunhaven was lying under the
horses heels, with a gaping wound in her
telnple, and the gray look of coming death
on her race; her hat was crushed, and
1he golden hair streamed on the ground.
A minute of Mortified silence, then a
girls voice cried:
1t is woman. We have run over Il
woman. What shall we do!'
There was great CONSERVATION: the
coachman jumped down from his box, the
footman from the back of the carriage.
one held the horses heads, while the 9th
er raised the PROSTATE figure. His face
gre" pale as he looked at her; the great,
gaping wound and the gray hue of that
young face startled him.
Is she hurt" asked the lady, quickly.
very much, indeed. 1 am afraid she
is Killed. was the answer.
The lady, who seemed to be quick and
decided in all her movements, came hast
ny from the carriage, and went I'D to
Lady Hlda.
Killed. she repeated. 81 hope not-I
nope not. Lay her down on the grass,
Smithson.'
The man laid her on the grass. The
lady knelt by her side and laid her hand
over her heart.
"She is not dead" she said. "Her heart
beats. l will tell you what we must do.
She must be placed in the carriage, and
we must take her home"
Home" said a sleepy, indolent voice,
You don't mean home, my DEAR
Where should mean? Do YOU sun
pose we can drive her to the moon, or
leave her lying here? Nothing of the
kind. Most certainly she goes home"
We'll, my dear, do just as you like.
There is nothing in the world worth
troubling about. Take things easy. They
are sure to come right" quoth Sir Peter
Pitcairn, who was one of the most indo-
lent men of his time.
1.-The poor creature would die, most
probably, while you are taking things
easy" replied Lady Pitcairn. This comes
of rapid driving. Smithson.'
Indeed, my lady," said the coachman,
Il was not driving quickly at all, but the
young lady stood quite in the middle of
the road, and did not STIR
1T looked to me like suicide" said the
footman, as he helped to place the silent
figure in the carriage, and during the
short drive home, Lady Pitcairn was busy
in discussing the idea.