Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1898-01-08
M0NA'S CHOICE,


Il suppose you nave no young leuules oot
yonderS"
"No; my partner, like myself, is a bach
elor. Indeed, it has hitherto been too
rough for ladies'; but we are improving
rapidly. We had nearly finished a log
house when | left; quite an architectural
mansion" added Waring, laughing.
His laugh was still frank and pleasant.
IL hope your partner is an honest man."
quoth Mr.. Craig.
81 hope so too. Indeed, / believe he Is.
He comes Of a respectable English family,
and has been accustomed TO the life Of a
rancho since his early boyhood. He is a
flrst-rate judge OF cattle and horses; and IL
he had not much money capital to put into
the venture, he contributes what is quite
as valuable-knowledgc and practice"
"Eh, I'm no that sure. There's as much
danger as profit sometimes in the knowl-
edge OF penniless men,
"Oh, Watson is not penniless; and he IL
really a very good fellow"
That is fortunate" said Mona, forcing
herself to join in the conversation. 81 sup
pose you have no other companion"
None. A chance traveller asks for hos
pitality now and then, but he never stays
long"
ut must be q lonely life, though | should
not dislike it," said Kenneth.
~ certainly do not. There's freedom and
plenty OF work, and when night comes one
is too tired for anything but a good nights
rest"
and daurs say you are MAR peaceful
and content to be AVA frae yon pow-sow-
die O. conceited fules and ~grinning cheats
they ca the great world, " said Uncle Sandy,
viciously.
ooh, human nature is pretty much the
same in the wilderness or in the world of
social life," said Waring, good humoredly.
ut would be but poor philosophy to cry
out against the world I have left because
l played the fool there; on my head be II
II l threw away my fortune. There are as
many good fellows-or as few good fellows
in one state of life as another"
IL believe that" said Kenneth. 81
should like we'll to see your place, Mr..
Warning"
why don't you come out for n bit. 1t
is a sort Of life you would like, | think"
"Eh, but he has his work cut DOT for him
herer' cried Uncle Sandy. He'll find 1t
best to bide wi me. Moo, tell me how
mony head o. cattle have yc forbye horses'"
And the three men plunged into talk,
from which Mona collected that Waring
had invested almost all the capital left him
after much wild extravaganza and fool.
ish speculation-in a ranch near the lam
Il redwoods on the Pacific coast, and
that, as yet, he had realized very little,
though his hopes were high, and he had
evidently thrown himself theoretically into
the undertaking.
She kept silence gladly. Warnings
presence-his steady composure, his quiet
submission to the acknowledgements her
deeply. She longed to cry out
Have you forgiven me? Can l atone
for the pain l infllctedH"
But most probably he had nearly forgot
ten that he once loved her, and hoped to
pass his life with her. She painted TO be
alone, to disentangle her ~thoughts--to
master the disturbance of her mind.
AS they seemed so absorbed in converse.
ton, Mona thought she might slip away
unobserved; but her uncle noticed her
movement.
'Bide n bit, my lassie" he cried. 1--WE
have sat here lang enough; We'll n come
WI We TO the drawing-room. You shall
sing us n sang, and then I'll gang AVA to
49, 'NN's w. olllSS llN Il III
ing" he added, rs he took Mona's arm.
II know that, Mr.. Craig" returned War.
ing, opening the door for them to pass
through; II remember her songs we'll"
Mona felt that she blushcd crimson
while she said, in a low tone, to her uncle
Il have scarcely any voice to-night-do
not ask me to sing"
'Hoot, toot, my dearie! you'll please us
weel."
Mona stood a moment irresolute after
Uncle Sandy had tumbled into the depths
of his chair. Waring came TO herside, and
looking kindly, and perhaps a little sadly,
into her eyes, said
Don't refuse, Miss Craigl You don't
know what a treat the music of n woman's
voice is TO al exile like myself, especially
as in n few days ] shall go back to the wilds
again"
''Then I will do my best" returned
Mona, simply, and she went TO the piano.
The song she choose was a pretty, quaint
German ditty she had learned while abroad
for she did not wish TO revive painful re.
collections by singing anything that might
be familiar to Warning. He moved away
and sat in deepest thought while he listen.
ed.
"Aweel, that's not ane O my favorites.
/ am not much Of a musician-my oppor.
tunities have been scant-but / have an
uncommon guide ear" said Uncle Sandy.
Give us a Scotch sang, my dearie!'
IF am not presuming too far said
Warning, coming over to lean on the piano,
"Might | ask for an old favorite-'Robin
Adair?'"
GAY, that will do" from Uncle Sandy.
IL need not have been 80 careful to spare
his feelings" thought Mona. II am max.
ing a fool of myself. 1t is an age since ]
attempted it." she said aloud: "but l will
try it il you like"
1t was ~dreadfully annoying, but she
could not steady her voice. She could no
keep a certain tremulous pathos out of her
notes. Men were so conceited-they had
such a high opinion of themselves, that
perhaps Leslie Warning would fancy, as
she was so upset at meeting him, that she
regretted having rejected him. All, no;
he was too frank and honest, too simple
and unselfsh, to need the guarded treat.
ment Lisle required. Lisle! why, he was
not comparable to Leslie Waring. What
wonders time and trouble had done for the
latter!
THANK you," said Waring, from his
chair in a shadowy corner, where he had
retreated when she began the song he had
asked for. THAT was an immense treat"
LAY, there's nae music like Scotch music,
nor is there any sangs for melody an
poetry, an Esprit, an'-an' historical value,
like Scotch sangs," said Uncle Sandy.
Il believe the Irish claim Robin Adair'
as tn cir own" said Mona.
Claim it! l daur say they do" said
Uncle Sandy, contemptuously. They'd
aye claim everything; but IL that Tilt isns
Scotch. aweel, / am no Scotch. Come, give
me your arm, Mona, I'll just gang to my
bed. In awfu' weary"
Then may be Mr.. Warning would like q
gmnka with mo IN tho Eitohan It1;pr ma