The Neihart herald. [volume] (Neihart, Mont.) 1890-1901, 1899-08-26
CHAPTER TX.

ms evening, when Edith had called
upon my wife was the first time she
had ever suggested or seemed to wish
for a private interview, and the cir
cumstance disturbed and excited me
more than l liked. When at last,
after a long delay, she came down the
walk, l rose instinctively to meet her,
and tried to give to the interview as
cold and business-like a tone as |
could command.
What must you think Of me, Paul"
she began impulsively. But / had
no resource left to me but to ask you
to meet me here. You-you are the
only f~riend-look about me as anx-
iously as | can-to whom / dare turn
for pity and help in a great danger
that threatens me, to whom | dare
trust a secret that weighs-oh, so
heavily!-upon my life. You once
here, on this spot, told me you loved
me dearly-that-that love is, Of
course, dead now; but to it's memory
how dear and precious to me, you
will never know!-I now appeal when
l implore you to share my secret and
give me the help without which l
shall sink. All, you will pity and
forgive me when you know all! Hear
me, dear Paul, friend of my youth, /
beseech your
Prudence. loyalty to poor Helen, who
believed "a me SO implicitly, distrust
Of myself, twenty other considerations
,,rood mo IN raf1co nor ranuact. htIt bar
little hot hands were grasping mine,
her lovely blue eyes full Of ~entreaty
fixed upon my face. l had bent my
head, she whispered her secret into
my ear. 1t was a secret that startled
and panied me, more than l could have
believed possible, that filled me with
Indignation and pity, made me prom
lse her my most devoted unconditional
allegiance, and, kneeling by her side.
beg forgiveness for my harsh judg-
ment and cruel words to her a year
before. Poor, poor child, II | only
could have guessed!
Up and down the walk I paced for
fully ten minutes battling with my
wrath and agitation, until her anxious
face recalled me to the necessity for
prompt and cautious action; and TAX
ing my place beside her we talked to-
gether for fully half an hour In earnest
whispers and discussed the most
available measures for averting the
threatened danger. When we rose
TO part at last, she laid her hand on
my arm with a piteous gesture.
1T have trusted you; you will not
betray me? You will give me your
solemn word of honor to tell no one,
not even your wife, for she does not
like me?"
what an idear' / burst out i'm
pulsively. How could you imagine
such a thing. Edie? Why, she is al
ways praising you, admiring your
beauty, your grace, your cleverness.
wondering how | escaped falling in
love with"
stopped abruptly, coloring furious
ly, whilst a lovely wave of carmine
frightened her cheek. After a pain
fully conscious pause, during which
we did not dare look at one another,
she said softly, withdrawing her hand,
which I had been unwittingly hold
ing
you will find I'm right; she does
not like me. Paul, indeed"
why, Elder"
How should l know ?'-twisting
her rings slowly round and looking
down. IL have tried to be nice
to her, to make a friend of her. but
it's Of no use. she will never like me.
I'm sure I can't guess why-can you.
Paul?"-with a swift upward glance
into my uneasy face.
OF course l knew then she was and
always had been an unblemished
angel, an innocent and shamefully In
Jured girl, that she had never wilful-
ly meant to make sport of my affec-
tions Oh Of any her mans. But,
lacking this knowledge, I must con-
fess that glance and that appeal in the
circumstances would have savored to
me OF coquetry-of a spirited and dan
gsrous kind. Poor child, how little
I understood her-how coarse and
merciless had been my judgment!
1--WE never done her any harm that
I know of. I'm sure; and people DOM
as a rule find II so very hard to like
me. Paul." she added, with a childish
wistful sigh.
They don't, heaven knows they
don'ti" I muttered. moving hastily
sway.