Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1899-01-06

less to bride him with the gl1tter1ng
promise of what he most desired. Ac-
customed to viewing things with the
eyes of lawyer and a purist, he had
omitted to take into account the nat
ural prejudices, emotions and failings
of poor, weak human nature. He
| shrank before the thing he knew she
| was about to utter.
do not say it, Joyce" he cried; ''do
not say it?"
She had faltered a little at his look
of horror. "Haye 1 said anything SO
| terrible, then?" she asked, almost
proudly. as it crime to help ones
| father?'
Hush said Tresham; yes. You
are child; you cannot know what you
are doing. Your father"
She dropped his arm. .'My father
knows nothing of this" she said.
haughtily. mo doubt he would be
angry if he knew that I had conde-
seconded to beg for him. No doubt he
will be honorably acquitted without
your help" Then she sank into
chair, laid her head against her arm
and quietly wept.
Tresham laid gentle hand upon her
| shoulder. ''You must not think I don't
pity you,'' he said, softly; "but, indeed.
! too am to be pitied. ] am in a terrible
position. When we came here some
few weeks ago, you with your unhappy
father, and 1 his 1uckless judge, all
three of us snatching at the legal de-
lays to rest in mind and body; when
1 met you, and saw how lovely you
were, and knew, as-God help mel
L knew soon enough that your smile
or frown was the only bar at which
| trembled, why, I should have been
brave for you and for me, I should
have put by the temptation for us both,
7 should have fed before you"
He paused, but the girl gave no sign;
and he went on, brokenly: "Do you
think it is only you that suffer? Do
you think it is nothing to me to see
you like this, and to feel that if honor
were not reality I could save you as
readily as 1 can lift my hand? Yet.
living as we do in world and in time
in which honor rules, 1 am as utterly
powerless TO help as if my hands were
fettered.''
Again he paused, and this time the
girl slowly lifted her eyes to his face;
then she asked. gently: care you
powerless, Roger?"
The swift blood surged through the
young judges face; light flashed in
his eyes. He made quick, involuntary
gesture. Joyce Boniface saw and I'M
derstood.
81 know what you would say" she
cried lifting her head proudly. Like
father, like daughter, you think. Well,
you are right. I would save him if 1
had to lie or cheat or steal" Her voice
shook helplessly. ooh, if you could see
him as I do-so broken, so changed
from his former self A poor, sick old
man, bounded by the law and-Heaven
help mei-by the man I love-" She was
| still striving for her father with all the
strength she had, and yet now she was
not acting.
| Tresham uttered low cry, and los
| ing all his habitual self-restraint,
caught her to him.
| Roger" she whispered, and it was
the voice of eternal woman tempting
eternal man-"Roger, you will O save
him. It is so pitiful. What can a
wretched pair of girls. persons we have
| never seen, matter to us? I know you
will be good to him."
| In the shock of returning conscious
ness and conscience, produced by her
| strange sophistical plea, he could not
help smile at the very womanishness
of it all. It was a very wan smile.
| though, and then he put her from him.
what a feudal princess you would
have made!' he said, with grim humor.
You wouldn't have recommended cake
in default of bread; you'd have asked
what poor folk, persons you didn't
| know, had to be in the world for"
| He knew it to be very far from a
laughing matter, and yet the air of ag
grieyed surprise with which she regard
/ ed him gave him some ado to keep his
eountenance. At the same time he
knew her to be sweet, true woman.
He knew that she would be at much
pains to relieve any distress that came
within the range of her vision But
the case of her fathers unfortunate
I victims-that was barred out from her
contact, hidden by a cloud as dense
rs prejudice could make it, utterly
swept away by the current of her
daughterly love. It was without mean
ing to her, something distant, vague,
!. with which she had not to do. Her
: mind was necessarily busted with the
4 picture of her wretched father, VIC
timized, martyred, as he seemed to her.
There is inherent in women-handed
down to them, perhaps, as legacy
from a time when they did not think
or act for themselves strong tribal
bias. From men it has been to a GER
tain extent eliminated by advancing
| civilization; in women it exists to-day
a living witness of thecparrow confines
that once held them
Joyce Boniface spoke now with the
fervor of despair. She had risked her
highest stakes, and she could not afford