The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1899-05-25

ssAh! I had forgotten; he has g
daughter ... .
The knobbly stick lay on the ground
now, and it's owner was trembling like
leaf. With an agile spring the cy-
clist seated himself in his saddle, and
as his feet found the pedals he looked
round over his shoulder.
ssDon't forget, 5" said he; 'Ethe house
with the turrets. I will vouch there
is good, square meal awaiting you. u
And with; that he rode away through
the drenching rain.
i Robert ;Templeton, the world-famed
architect sat in his study deep in
thought. From some distant portion
of the old house the sound of girls 9
fresh, young voice, singing ''Love's Old
Sweet Song" reached his ears: Sud
denly the song ceased, and Robert
Templeton knew the dreaded moment
had arrived knew that Harold Frank
lin had called for his (Templeton's)
answer.
He had promised to give it that very
night that very hour-and Franklin,
anxious lover that he was, had brayed
the inclemency Of that night to hear
that which meant either lifelong hap
piness for him or a dreary drag of
estate, fat and unproftable' existence.
/ Templet9n rose from his chair and
( PACED slowly about thsHSom.i,
: The: gtetM lie hada fo tell Harold
7-FTahklin: Vas inevitable How would
he receive that story? Would he, in
his great love for Clarice, laugh the
deception to scorn; or would he heap
contuineE upon the narrator's head
and leave the. girl who loved him for
ever? No, Danish the lattsr Thought.
Harold franklin wssa true English
gentleman-not one of the soulless,
Creatures who sometimes pose as such
creatures of veneer and vapidity-
but man with heart as sound as
one of the oaks of his native land; a
man who valued his fellow creatures
fontheir true mind worth and not sole
| " on account of; their wealth of. the
worlds goods. e. -
Half an hour passed, and Templeton
was still pacing about his study, when
a firm step approached, aud knock
sounded upon the door. Templeton
went across and threw it wide open.
His visitor was Harold Franklin.
''And so you have come for my
answer, Harold?'. said the architect,
after their formal greeting
Eyes, sir, repliedithe young fellow,
with.a quick look in the others face.
Templeton placed a chair for his
visitor and sst.doMh facing him.
esBut where is Clarice? It is neces-
sary she, too, should hear what have
to say" he said.
s'Clarice is acting the good Samar-
fta1 to poot> >fello&- 7 me- On tue
rosd,,,,' said Ftanklin! =. stde faint
with .hunger;:sssoS:I presumed to invite
him to bite AMI sup beneath your roof,
Mr.. Templeton. I trust my presuynp-.
tion did not everstep the bounds Of
my acquaintanceship with yourself
- ~, ;-s>::: ~. - ,
ssYou did perfectly right, Harold, -
iaterposed the elder man. And
Clarice, you say, is:atteuding to the
poor fellow with her own hands?"
eyes, sir; she preferred to DO So
A few minutes later Clariee Temple
ton entered the room, ana both its
male occupafts&were surprised to see
her eyes. were* fearful: @:You have
been weeping :ehi!d?"'::said her father,
as she sank 5down on the hassock at
his side. ,.....
sYes," she said softly; 'sit was
something that poor man did and said
when he was bidding me good night
and thanking me fo"~t the food I had
| placed before him.
Robert. Tsmpleton was too much
engrossed with This own thoughts to
reply to what Clarice was saying.
"My: chld,"' he:said, after short
pause. ?':it is. only right that you
should hear what am now about to
say. It is only right that the man
who desires to make you his wife, and
whols here tonight for my answer,
should know your history-and mine. -
The young lovers gazed wondering
| ly upon the speaker, and their hands
sought each others -instinctively.
':History, sir! + scarcely under
stand you, "~said' Franklin. 81 know
already that you;;-the most illustrious
architect of the time, were, in your
younger days, far poorer than you
now are, Have you not told me often
thst:Four early Struggles were fraught
with pTivation? Your history, sir, is
one that rebounds to, your: credit"
''I do not refer to the struggles of
my youth, Harold; it is something
else-something which concerns Clar-
ice. It is this: Clarice is not my
daughter!'' .:-.,;-s,
Tie words wore spoken at last,
"Not your daqghter2 whispered
the girl, her face blanehing deathly
pale.
"Sit down again, my child, and listen
to my story. It is an old story-a
common theme for novelists, but true
in my case:
sTwo brothers fell in. love with one
girl. One Of the brothers is studious