Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1898-12-01

ilo vat ~ aLt 49,
loved her. and perhaps. In time,
might have made her happy"
He brushed away the mist tnat
dimmed his haggard eyes, ana crleu,
abruptly:
"Grace, come here".
Pale and trembling, but with the
light that made her pale face noble
shining now in her clear eyes. Grace
went 10 his side, and stood, with her
hands resting on the chair-back.
Grace, say you forgive me all-my
silence. my inopportune returnF
''Your silence was cruel; but there Is
nothing else 10 forgive, ana, II thefe
were, / must pardon, too"
.'No-you believed there was no par
rier between you aud the man you
loved. and you were right Stay las
the girl broke in with a sharp cry or
pain and terror-.hear me out. You
will soon be glad you were 50 patient.
Grace, do you not think that, with All
my heart. l love you?'
1.-THE blood rushed hotly TO the 6 rrs
face, then receded, leaving hef 50
deathly white that Herbert.thoug NJ
she would faint. The passionate Nyor s.
coming so swiftly upon Others tlat had
Weakened a faint, wild hope In her
heart, thrilled her with the very agony
of disappointment.
II know-I know she cried. a deS-
perate, terrified %entreaty in hex voice;
''but do not speak of that now. A.,
'Yes-now," he replied and the ex-
element of a supreme moment seemed
to give back the old, cl ar fullness TO
the broken voice.
Grace, need no longer fear ne
or wish me dead.'
II do notr.' she exclaimed, eagerly; l
ask only time to-forget!
And you shall have, please Heaven.
a long life OF sunshine. in which you
may forget these dark hours and the
man who caused them, although l
would have died to make You happy.
Grace, you may recall Vincent Erie to-
morrow! He is your legal husband,
for you are net, and never have been,
wife of mine"
White as marble, breathloss and
trembling from head TO foot, Glace
listened to words that seemed the Wild
est rawlings of delirium.
"Oh, you are cruel.' she cried; do /
not know"
Child, you know nothing" he III
INJURED. with grave gantlenesS-"not
even that once before / tried to die o
you, Grace, did you ever guess that
the death from which the French fish
m saved me was of my W e
ing?"
mo-" The words seemed to be
forced from the pale lips. why did
you wish 10 dieg'
Because life was full Of hopeless
misery. / could not look into your
sweet eyes and feel that you, though
we had knelt together on the altar
steps and spoken the VOWS that should
have made us one, were not man and
wife, for the wife whom l thought
dead was living!"
And you knew this-and yet"
II knew nothing" Mr.. Sant'ey con-
tinued, with savage vehemence, "un-
til you had been my wife an hour: and
then-I think must have gone mad.
| know that l had but one thought-to
spare you all knowledge of the cruel
wrong / had done your
He lay back, wiping away the great
drops that had gathered on his fore
head.
Grace did not speak or stir; her fin
gers still clutched the chair-back, and
she stared straight before her, a fright
ened expression in her eyes.
Speak to me, Grace-you may for
give me now.w he said, family and
with difficulty, for his small stock OF
strength had exhausted itself in that
passionate outbreak. Then, as Grace
did not answer, he turned his head in
painful surprise. He had given her so
much-hope, love. freedom-was she
pitiless to him still?
"Gracew he cried again.
This time the girl made a strong eff
fort TO herself to answer him;
but, as she pushed the chair from her,
something seemed to strap suddenly
within her bran. a rushing, as of
many waters, filled her ears, and she
fell heavily to the floor. overcome by
the Overwhelming weight of a great
unhoped-for joy.
Sorrow endureth for a night, but
joy cometh in the morning"
The words echoed in Grace Erle's
ears when consciousness returned to
her. She did not know whether some
one had read them while she was lying
there, or whether they had recurred to
her memory.
But that was hardly strange. for she
seemed TO know nothing save that she
was in bed and was strangely and piti-
fully weak, that the hands she could
hardly raise to her brow were almost
those of n skeleton, and that her head
was covered with short baby-curls in
place of the long. bright hair Of which
she had been innocently proud.
Have I been ill?' she asked Ruth,
who bent over her with a look of relief
in her bright eyes.
VERY i'll, dear; but, thank Heaven,
all is well with you know, | hope..'
She laid a significant stress upon the
words: ard Grace pondere6 them in
silence, slowly but surely remember
ing ALL.
But it was nearly a week later that
she caught her sisters hand and in
CURED. with passionate entreaty:
Ruth. is it true? Am T."
"vincent's wife? Yes Ruth an
swered, her bright eyes looking bright
er through glad, grateful tears. He
Herbert Santley-told me all before he