The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1899-03-12
CHAPTER XII.

Z
| The Hallidays lived but few rods
from the Sutherlands. Yet, as it was
! dusk when Miss Halliday rose to de-
I part, Frederick naturally offered his
services as her escort.
She accepted them with a Slight
! blush, the first he had ever seen on her
face, or at least he had ever noticed
there. 1t caused him such surprise
| that he forgot Amabel's presence in the
garden till they came upon her at the
gate.
a very pleasant evening" observed
that young girl, in her high, musical
voice.
Very" was Miss Hailliday's short
reply; and for a moment the two faces
were in line as he held open the gate
before his departing guest.
They were different faces in feature
! and expression. and till that night he
had never thought of comparing them.
Indeed, the fascination which beamed
on Amabel Pages far from regular
countenance had put all other faces out
of his mind, but now, as he surveyed
the two, the candor and purity which
marked Agnes features come out so
strongly at his glance that the coun-
tenance of Amabel lost its charms. and
he hastily drew his young neighbor
away.
-alQdDel nOIeU the movement ana
smiled. She had no fears of Agnes Hal
liday.
Perhaps she might have felt less con-
fidence if she could have seen the short
glances he cast at his old playmate as
they proceeded slowly down the road.
Not that there was any passion in
them: he was too full of care for that,
but the curiosity which could prompt
him to turn his head dozen times in
4I,eaf r,fe Oh. IL To
why Agnes Halliday held her face so
persistently away from him, had an ell
ement of feeling in it that was more or
less significant. AS for Agnes, she was
so unlike her accustomed self as to as
tonish even herself. Whereas, she had
never before walked a dozen steps with
him without INDUCING in some sharp
saying, she found herself disinclined to
speak at all. much less to speak lightly.
In mutual silence, then, they reached
the gateway leading into the Halliday
grounds. But Agnes, having passed in,
they both stopped and for the first time
looked squarely at each other. Her eyes
fell first, perhaps because his had
changed in his contemplation of her.
He smiled as he saw this, and in
half careless, half wistful tone, said
quietly:
Agnes, what would you think of a
man who. after having committed little
else but folly all his life. suddenly made
up his mind to turn absolutely toward
the right and to pursue it in face of
every obstacle and every discourage
ment2"
I should think" she slowly replied,
with one quick lift of her eyes toward
his face, that he had entered upon the
noblest effort of which man is capable
and-the hardest. / should have great
sympathy for that man, Frederick
Would you?" he said, recalling ANA
bells face with bitter aversion, as he
gazed into the womanly countenance he
had hitherto sighted as uninteresting.
1T is the first kind word you have ever
given me, Agnes. Possibly it is the
first I have ever deserved
And without another word he DOTTED
his hat. saluted her and vanished down
the hillside.
She remained; remained so long that
it as nearly o'clock when she enter
ed the family parlor. As she came in
her mother looked up and was startled
at her unaccustomed pallor.
Why, Agnes" cried her mother,
what is the matter?"
Her answer was inaudible. What was
the matter? She dreaded, even feared.
to ask herself.
Meantime a strange scene was taking
place in the woods toward which she
had seen Frederick go. The moon which
was particularly bright that night,
shone upon q certain hollow where a
huge tree lay. Around it the under
brush was thick and the shadow dark;
but in this especial place the opening
was large enough for the rays 10 enter
freely. Into this circlet of light Fred
erick Sutherland had come. Alone and
without the restraint imposed upon him
by watching eyes, he showed counte- |
nance so wan and troubled that it was
we'll it could not be seen by either of
the two women whose thoughts We're |
at that moment fixed upon him. To |
Amabel it would have given throb of |
selfish hope, while to Agnes it would |
have brought a pang of despair which |
might have somewhat too suddenly in !
terpreted TO her the mystery of her own |
He had bent at once to the hollow
space made by the outspreading roots |
just mentioned, and was feeling with |
an air Of confidence along the ground |
for something he had every reason to |
expect to find, when the shock of a sud |
den distrust seized him, and he flung |
himself down in terror. feeling and feel |
ing again among the leaves and broken |
tWigs. until a full realization of his !
reached him, and he was
obliged to acknowledge that the place |
was empty.
Overwhelmed at his loss, aghast at |
the consequences it must entail upon !
him, he arose in a trembling sweat, |
crying out in his anger and dismay:
''She has been herel She has taken
itr' and realizing for the first time the
and strength of the antagonist
pitted against him, he forget his new
and even that old promise
to Agatha Webb and uttered oath af-
ter oath, cursing himself, thu woman,
and what she had done, till a casual
glance at the heavens overhead. in
which the liquid moon hung calm and
beautiful, recalled him to himself. Ceas-
ing his vain repinings and silencing
with fierce but determined effort, the
fierce demon in his breast, he turned
from the unhallowed spot and made his
way with deeper and deeper misgivings
toward a home made hateful to him
now by the presence Of the woman who
was thus bent upon his ruin.
He understood her now. He rated at
is full value both her determination
and her power, and had she been so I'M
iortunate as to have carried her inn
prudence TO the point Of surprising him
1t that moment in one of the hollows
If that midnight copse, it would have
aiken more than the memory of that
lays resolves to have kept him from
Using his strength against her. But
'he was wise and did not intrude upon