The Mitchell capital. (Mitchell, Dakota [S.D.]) 1879-1918, 1899-08-11

3
10 battle at tremendous ODDS with tie
! world
She decided, however, to undertake the
task at all risks; and as she sat in the
darkness she made her plans. She would
go to New Zealand-she would place the
! distance Of half the globe between her and
| her father; and from the an-podes shs
| wo,Ild send him few words, telling hin
that she desired onIy TO die oct Of his
| sight.
She would write to Dick. TOO. but il
| very different fashion, and 10 Neville; and
| perhaps, after many years, when in the
course Of nature her father should die, she
would return, grave and altered woman,
| 70 her old home-return 10 fud Neville
welded 70 another, and herself forgotten.
/ Maire, went 10 her trunk, tossing aside
things that she had formerly valued for
| their tastefulness. Then she took up
dresses that were underneath tie laces
| and lighter things There were 6ur p,et-
ty costumes which were still quite fresh,
and which fitted her as if made but re-
Gently. She had not grown more robust
/ during the last few months.
I One ar;er gray gown called Up recoilec-
! tious OF that dag from which all her troa-
I blcs Ga1e;-tae day when she first discoy-
/ e-e-3 that he- father had secret TO hide
| the words she had overheard in the IL
b-sry. the scene near the boathouse, the
interview with her uncle, then with her
father, the plausible explanation be had
given her, and, last Of all, that never-to-
be-fergotten sceee il her fathers study,
when, as she believed, she had been the
means Of averting 4 fearful crime. Her
parting from Neville had followed, then
her separation from al her family; next
her imprisonment in the cottage.
She continued TO handle the gray dress
without thinking Of what she was doing
and in this state Of mind she unfoIded it,
shook it, and held it Up before her; and,
as she did 50, her hand came in contact
with thin and crtImpied piece of paper in
the pocket Of the skirt. What could It be?
For she had not worn the dress since that
day, 50 vivid in her memory, on which she
had taken it off before her father went to
Germany, or was supposed to 20 there
Instantly there flashed across her mind
The little scene in Metals bedroom, when
she had keen SO agitated about the paper
which fell from the pocket Of this very
dress, and she had believed herself atout
TO obtain a clew to the secret which had
ever since eluded her. This paper contain
ed an allusion which had been a Ike, to a
part of the deception which she felt
shrouded her fathers past. She had been
deeply disappointed at first, and theu in
tensely relieved in mind, at missing what
she had aimed at in snatching the piece OF
paper from her fathers drawer, and she
had gone away from home the next day
in the belief that the secret still lay hidden
in the drawer Of her fathers writing ia.
bic
Never since that day had she worn the
gray dress, which was not stylish enough
for any place but the school room; and
during all the stirring occurrences thar
| foliowed-her visitto her uncie's, her brief
happy engagement to Lord Wyn,nore.
| when new garments were ordered for her,
and she was emancipated from the school
room-she had never had occasion to wea1
this particular dress, for, affer her en-
eagenent to Neville Wynmore was brok.
en- off, illness ensued, and her fancy for
! black garments grew upon her, so that
! this costume had lain unthought Of at the
! bottom Of her trunk now open before her
| Now swiftly came the startling though,
| that here, at this unexpected moment. tht
mystery would be laid bare to her-the
| hidden thing be made clear. She felt as
| sured that she was about to lay hold o.
| that which had hitherto e!uded her.
How painfully her heart beat as sht
| drew out the thin foreign sheet, smoothec
it with tre1nulous agony, read III German
Frankfort, June, IS.
Your last letter was SO unsatisfactor,
that | will answer it il person. It is of NJ
use to beat about the bush with ne; an,
you ought to know that, if l ask a goo,
deal, it is worth your while to pay it.
must write long letter, but every Wort
will have to be reckoncd for.
"It is too ridiculous for you, Charlfor
or rather E'ilton-to tell me, Horac
Lane, that you cannot afford to pay twic
over for a secret such as l have in m
keeping. If you paid for it dozen times
it would be better than spending the res
of your life at the public expense in one 0
her majesty's prisons. You think to blin
lne? You have rcckoned without any res
knowledge of the man with whom yo
have to deal.
Your reputed brother takes advantac
of series of fortuitous circumstances, c
my own skill in initiating any handwri
ing, Of my presumed dying state, Of til
death Of Mrs. Charlford in her husband
absence, Of an attack of yellow feye
which rapidly carried off the real Richar
Charlford during his visit to the West L,
, dies-I say he takes advantage Of all thes
, circumstances to forge a will beGueathir
. to himself the immense fortune amasse
i, by his cousin, which would otherwise ha'
: gone to Richard Charlford, and at h
. death to his children. He draws up tt
a will; write it out, signing it with for
: ed signature on consideration of receivir
, for my penniless child a sum of eight tho
y sand pounds. l am supposed at the tin
to be in dying state-John Charlie
4 thinks that dead men tel! no tales.
I, Your price had to be settled. 1t was
y heavy onc-no less than that the man w
). had planned to take all the late Mr.. Cha
ford's property should make new W
:. which should bcstow half the wealth
= yourself in order to do which securely
c was necessary to palm yourself off
It Richard Charlford, the father Of his de
d brothers children.
|. "Why not? The wife was dead, t