Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1899-12-30

LOVE STORY OF MODERN DAYS

III g'oWS chllly, says MISS Penelope
resently, let us all go in"
oh not set, auntie; it is lnite lovely
ct, says, Monica, earnestly. She. cannot
IN Yet. no. yet; the eveningi IN still YOU ~.
hl---and She would llke M much to % down
the river. lf only fof a moment Al this
lt SAYS gulltily te helsak
wei, we oil Women Will go il, at least, =
'ys Miss Penelope You two ciildren can
oqiet with the dew for little while; but
OH stay too long, or sore throatS will be
l2 result"
Yes, yes, says Miss Priscilla, following
II sister. AS she passes Monica, she looks
.Mlously at the girls little slight frlgll
cure andher 81 nder throat and ha f-5a:ed
r.Is.
'Taat dress is thin. Do not stay out too
ng. Take care of yougselr, my darling"
le kisses her pretty mi c., AMI then hur-
- on, IS though asham, 4 OF this show of
fectiol.
A little troubled by the eareSs, Mon ca
loyes mechanically TOWN the path that
a Is toward the meadows and the river,
'llQw ii by Kit BY tbs tim, the latter is
full POS essiol Of all that happened yes
.day,-at least so much of II as rela .es TO
onlcd's acquaintance with Mr.. Desmond
minus the tend pas ,ioB), his dnclc'S en-.
ounter with her Rint$ and Bran's subs :
nent dismissal. Indeed, so much has tram
bred in the telling Of all this that Kit, who
shrewd clila, has come 10 the just con-
.usiOn that the young Mr.. Desmond is in
we with her Monica.
Strange to say, she is not ANNOYED at his
resumption, bet rather pleased at 1.-THE
ing the first live lover she has ever come
contact with, and therefore interesting in
} small degree.
Now, as she follows her sister down the
lwery pathway, her mind is full of rO-
dnce, pure and sweet and great with chiv-
ry, As a child's would be. But Monica is
d and tac.turn. Her mind misgives her,
II conscience pricks her, her soul Is dis
uieted within her.
What was it she had promised Aunt Pris-
Tia Yesterday? Aunt Priscilla had said,
tor the future YOU must forget you ever
poke to Mr.. Desmond. You will remember
lisp and she had answered, Yes"
eit how can she forget? 1t was foolish
romise, for who has got memory under
OntrOl?
OF course, Aunt Priscilla had meant her
understand tllttShe was never TO speak
0 Mr.. Desmond again, aud she had given
ler promise in the spirit. And of course
lie would be obedient; she would at least
30 far obey that she would not be the first
D speak 10 him, nor woul< she seek him
lor--- But why, then, Is she going to the
liver? Is it because the evening is so fine,
)r Is there no lurking hope Of
And, after all, what certainty IL there
hat-that- any one will be at the river ut
his hour? And even if there should be,
Why need she speak to him? she can be ST.
ent; but if he speaks 10 her, what then?
IAN she refuse to answer?
Her mind is as boat upon troubled sea.
ossed here and there; but by and by the
Wind goes down, and the stanch boat is
ighted, and turns its bow toward home.
Kit, do not letusg go TO tha river tonight"
,he says, turning to face her sister in the
arrow path.
But why? 1t is 50 warm and light, and
,uch little way!"
you have been often there. Let us turn
Town this side of the meadow, ami see
where 1t will lead to-"
That i leads directly away from Cooe
here cannot be the least doubt: and the lit
le martyr treaS.ng the ground she would
lot feels with all additional pang Of disap-
continent that the fulfllment of her duty
loes not carry with 1t the thrill of rapture
hat ought to suffuse her soul.
Monica, who is that?" eXclaims Kit, sud.
enly, staring over the high bank. beside
Which they are walking, into the field be-
ond. Following her glance, Monica sees
figure OH the other side of this
ank, but lower down, stealing cautiously,
o.sClessly, toward them, as though bent on
ecret murder. A second glance betrays the
act that ii is Terence, with-yes, most posi-
lively with gun!
Where on earth did he get it!' says Kit;
nd, unable 10 contain her curiosity any
Dnger she scrmnbles,up the bank, and calls
ut, Terry, here we are! Come here!
We're did you get it?" at the top of heJ
resh young lungs.
As she did so, little gray object, hther-
o unseen by her, springs from among sOmo
;reen stuffs, and, scudding across the fields
nto the woods of COole beyond, is in mo-
nent lost to view.
"Oh, bother" cries Terry, literally dane
nc with rage; II wouldn't doubt you to
make that row just when was going to fire.
wish to goodness you girls would stay at
lome, ard not come interfering with fel-
ow's sport.
Terry where did you get this gln?" asks
fonda, as breathleSs with surprise as Kit.
Is -fearfully-"lodded? Oh! don't!-
ont point it this way! 1t will surely go
fl and kill somebody
"What n lovely gunw says Kit, admiring-
y. -. sar,
isn't it?' says Terence, forgetting his
ad temper in his anxiety to exhibit his
reasure. lisa breech-loader, too; none
t your old-fashioned things, mind you, but
g'lar good one. I'll tell you who lent it
D me, II you'll promise not to preach"
We wont" says Kit, who is burning with
hrioSity.
Guess, then"
"Bob Warren" says Monica. Bob War
ell is the rector's son, and is much at
Ioyne.
mot likely! Pegs above him. Well, I'll
ell you. It's that fellow that's spoons on
ou,"-with all a brothers perspicacity,-
the fellow who saw us on the hay-cart,"-
'onica writhes inwardly,-'Dcsmond, you
now!'
THE enemy's nephew?' asks Kit, in
lrilling tone, that bespeaks delight and
lalicious expectation Of breakers ahead.
Yes. was talking to him yesterday,
arly in the day, at Nadine O'Connor's;
nd he asked me was your brother, Moni-
4, to which l pleaded guilty, though" with
grin, I'D have got out of it if could; and
len he began to talk about shooting. and
nd might knock over any rabbits liked
/ COole. / told him had no gun, so he
tfered to lend me one. i thought it was
wfully jolly Of him., considering l was an
tier stranger, and that; but be looks real
oodSort. He sent over the gun this morn
lg bya boy, and have had 1t hidden in the
able untflenow. thought I'd never get
ut of that beastly garden, this evening""
"Oh, ference, YOU shouldn't have taken
le gun from him." says Monica, flushing.
Just think what aunt Priscilla would say
she heard of it. You know how deter
lined she is that we shall have no inter-
purse with the Desmonds."
stuff and nonsense " says Mr.. Beresford.
| never heard such a row as th7y are for
yer making about simply nothing. Why,
e uuite n common thing tO iilt n girl nnv-