The Mitchell capital. (Mitchell, Dakota [S.D.]) 1879-1918, 1897-07-16

10 her with few Indifferent words. Sho
was 100 ignorant, too much engrosse6 in
her own sensations to know how much
tii.s cold greeting meant, yet she was con-
| sclous of something like a cold chill of
disappointment.
"hen dinner was ended she thought he
would probably join her in the pretty little
garden that made the back of the great
iashlonable mansion pleasant as the coun-
try. She went there. The drawing room
windows opened on to it, great rose bushes
malt concealed them, and the pretty gar
! den chair was placed among the roses.
she sat down there, wondering if he
would come; they were to be married in
two days.
While the love light cleaned in her
eyes, the sudden sound of voice-the
sudden hearing of what were to her ter
rlble words, struck her silent and dumb
struck the smile from her lips, struck the
light from the sweet eyes and the music
from the saddened heart-the voice she
loved best in all the world. The words
stabbed her; they slew the bright young
life within her.
Lord Dunhaven was speaking; he had
entered the drawing room with Lady
Darel, and they had taken their seat at
the window, quite unconscious that the
young girl was sitting among the roses.
He was saying:
II cannot look happy, mother. 1t is of
no use trying. In whatever light l look
at it am quite filled with despair There
| are times when l am inclined to give it up
| and go to America. Then again it seems
a great pity to do that when l could make
everything bright for you in England"
What induced you to offer to marry
her if she is dstastefu to you?'' said
Lady Darel.
81 did not exactly ask her. l found
that she wished for the marriage. and
well, felt sorry for her; she looked so
young and so friendless. The truth is
| hate myself when l say t--I hate the
circumstances that have hemmed me
round-but the real truth is, want the
money, but not the girl"
"Give her up, then. Better that than
making yourself miserable over her.
"No," he replied, slowly. 81 do not love
her, certainly. l am not even sure that
l like her, but l am sorry for her. She
has had II lonely, desolate childhood. and
she seems in some measure to cling to me.
| must take all the consequences myself.
1t would have been easier had she been
more attractive girl-pretty, accomplished
or anything of that kind. but there is moth
ing in her to win mans love. However,
we will not discuss it; it has to be done.
Do not talk to me any more about it,
mother. l am going down to my club
now'
Lady Hida went to her own room. Her
first impulse was to give up the marriage.
How could she marry a man who said
frankly that it was the money, and not
the girl, he wanted? Why had heaven
been SO cruel to her? Why had other girls
and women this power Of winning love
which had been denied to her?
She would write little note to him and
tell him that quite by accident she had
overheard what he had said, and that the
marriage could never be. She lay down
to rest tears raining from her eyes, the
keenest pain in her heart, and the deter
mination formed in her mind that she
would not give him up.
She tried to sleep, but the silent dark
ness of the night brought back to her the
strange silence that had reigned in that
death chamber of her father; the awful
outline of that rigid figure, the stern-set
white mass that had once been face
All the shuddering dread and fear came
over her again. What if that stern figure
and stern face appeared by her side now?
What If he had not said enough; he had
said that unless she fulfilled his command
-obeyed his wishes-he should not rest
even in his grave? What if he came to
her now and told her that his command
must be obeyed? She shuddered with
mortal dread. There was a slight sound
in the corridor outside; she sprang from
the pillow, her heart standing still with
fear. He would not rest in his grave UNI
less she married Lord Dunhayen.
If it was to be so she had better marry
him, no matter how much he disliked her.
1t would be easier to live in his society
than to live in deadly fear of that horrible
sight. If she could have mastered her
fear, all would have been well; but she
could not No one had told her that sup
erstition was but ignorance. She was so
sorely afraid of her dead father that to
keep him at rest in his grave she would
have consented to live in torture for her
whole life