Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1899-09-02
CHAPTER XII.
St. Valentines Day.

Terribly dawned that st. Valentines
Day for Marjorie.
When the sun rose she was stand
ing beside her bedroom window, look
ing mournfully across the frozen
lake, and feeling half tempted to wish
she had found her death there.
Life was so full of misery. There
was nothing to hope for.
Her heart was aching with dull,
dreary pain, as she thought of the
frank, smiling face she had loved so
well; and, apart from that source of
misery, what was to become of her?
Where was she to go?
She could not even be sure that she
might not yet be arrested as an accom-
plice of the thieves.
She had been more than fortnight
in their house, and who was there to
prove her innocence?
Filled with such thoughts as these,
she turned away from the window with
a heavy sigh and, having completed
her toilette, went slowly downstairs,
scarce knowing which room to enter,
or what to do.
Madeline, worn out with grief, had
fallen asleep an hour ago, and there
was no one else in the house save a
couple of police officers, who had been
left in charge.
One of these was in the hall.
He spoke very civilly to the pale,
trembling girl, and told her there was
a fire in the dining-room, where she
might be quite alone if she wished
She thanked him gratefully, but had
been seated at the fire scarcely five
minutes before he tapped at the door,
and announced;
"a gentleman to see you, MISS"
Marjorie rose with a start, to find
herself face to face with the hand
some, greyzeyed man she had seen in
the wood when she was walking with
Charles-Sir Edward Mortimer.
He came forward with an air OF
great respect, and yet with the most
evident and earnest sympathy as well.
eff ] am intruding, please pardon
me-" he said, in clear, cultured voice.
"But your position here is so very try
ing that felt bound to come and tell
you how deeply we sympathize with
you-my sisters, and l, mean-and
now anxious we are to be OF service,
If you will allow u.s."
He paused, then added:
II think you perhaps may know who
! am; my name is Mortimer"
Sir Edward Mortimer-yes, I know.
Indeed, l can't find words to thank
you. You are only too kind. I wish
] could make you understand how
much / feel your kindness shown at
such time"
cry, and of her utter loneliness, swept
over her, and she could not repress her
tears.
They flowed down her pale cheeks.
She was compelled to raise her hand
kerchief to her eyes.
Don't cry" said Sir Edward, so very
earnestly, and with so much feeling,
that the poor girl only cried the more.
ut is so very kind of you'll" she Sob
bed. II thought everyone would mis-
trust and misjudge mel"
Gently taking her hand, he led her
back to her chair. and sat down near
her. ..sa....x
"My dear Miss ST. Clair, what have
to suggest. or rather to earnestly en-
treat, is that you will make my house
your home-at any rate, until some
thing can be settled for your future.
My sisters wish this very much. and
they would have come to you them
selves, but they are both suffering from |
such bad colds that I wouldn't hear OF |
them going out. They are longing |
70 welcome you. May have the pleas
lre of telling them you will be their
guest?"
Marjorie raised her sweet. lustrous
Eyes, still wet with tears, and gave him |
IN earnest, grateful glance.
If knew how to thank you. /
would" she said: but. indeed. do
not. Your kindness is so very great.
was fearing that
She paused, and colored deeply.
"You feared that people might be
such fools as to imagine you were in
eague with those scoundrels. Is that
what you would say. Miss St Clair7