Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1900-08-23

/ $500 $1,000
neck.
Never tell me anything that could
pain you, dear uncle," she whispered
why should you? And let us forget
to-day that pain or suffering exists In
the world"
She bent her head until the bright
chestnut hair mingled with the streaks
OF gray and her lips touched his brow.
He raised his hand and softly stroked
her cheek then rose. as If in depressed
Impotence. and walked to the window.
II wish the boy would come" he
said.
But. one by one, the hours went
no fruition.
To-day, as she wandered in and out
| of the house, no day had ever seemed
so long.
1t was past noon, when, curling her
self up in a corner of the summer
house, she tried to read; yet another
hour had glided by, and she had
turned no single leaf of the book she
held.
A romance more ~engrossing than that
spun out on it's pages absorbed her
thought--a romano in which her hero
too so conspicuous a part that she for
got herself as heroine.
Her reverie deepened, and she softly
closed the book, and, almost, uncon-
sciously, her waking and her sleeping
dreams merged into n
Suddenly she started, reused by her
lovers voice.
What was he saying? To whom
speaking?
She sprang up to welcome him, u
something held him still and dumb.
Evidently the w men, father and
son, had met outside the house, and
now paused in their walk, not five feet
distant from her.
Listen to my story and it's justifica-
ton, father" she heard Harry say;
''then condemn me If you will"
And then he told the story through
the story of his love and jealousy, of
his injustice and its reparation.
Had the girl, screened from his view
within the rustic summer house, been
converted into marble by his words?
Inst.nctively. two little. ringless
hands, white and soft and dimpled,
were pressed tight over her heart; her
eyes were dilated, and their hue had
changed to black; her lips We're parted
and colorless; her breath came be-
tween them in short, difficult gasps.
Her head was bent forward in her
eagerness, lest word or syllable should
escape her; yet she was not conscious
that she played the role of e~avesdrop-
per.
AT last her guardian spoke:
1T is the work of a villain" he said.
in strangely-altered tones, land tina
villain is my son. You ask me to well
come this adventures as my daugh-
ter. How, then does Grace stand to-
honored place."
Adventures, father" answered
Harry, sternly, sis not the word to BIZ
applied to your sons wife. Except
that / hastily committed myself last
night to Grace, I can reproach myself
with nothing. Doubtless she will cry
herself to sleep tonight, poor child,
but tomorrow her own roses will not
be fresher nor fairer; her tears but
the dew which enhances their beauty.
/ spoke to her of love and the child
dreamed that my words Weakened an
echo in her heart. Would that I could
spare her even the ffaeting unhappi-
ness of my f~alseness; but a week
hence and she will have forgotten.
Father. don't let the memory of her
wrong make you unjust to Helen"
Hush! Spare me the utterance of
that woman's name. Once undeceived
as to the character of her to whom you
have given your own proud old name,
blinded by the infatuation which now
masquerades as love. your punish
ment will be as bitter as your treach-
cry toward Grace has already been.
Yet how dare / condemn you'll. who
would have sinned against her; I, who
have also proved unworthy my sacred
trust"
And, staggering against the trunk
Of a tree for support, he bowed his
head in his hands, while q deep groan
burst from his white, quivering lips.
Father, In Gods name, tell me,
what do o mean?"
II mean that we are two thieves
you and I. father and son-and that
Grace Hawthorne is our innocent VIC
tim. You have robbed her of love and
happiness; /, of her inheritance. No,
do not shrink away in horror. OF the
two. my robbery will affect her less.
Besides. / have no impoverished her.
More than half her fortune still re-
mains to her. /, who talked Of disin-
heriting you, am a beggar. Four years
ago | put at least half my fortune and
a portion of my wards into an invest
ment which promised the richest re-
s~ults-which seemed absolutely secure.
The panic which, you remember, took
place just then, and shook to it's center
the financial world, swept the money
from my grasp, leaving me only secur-,
tiles, for the time absolutely valueless.
Aghast at the ~stupendous loss, / un-
dertook to retrieve it by speculatiors.
! was badly advised, and little by little
my entire fortune has been swept a
way. I have, however. not hazarded
further a dollar belonging to Grace in
this terrible struggle. Moreover, the
securities / hold in her name and my
" are beginning to gain in value.
Had she been your wife. by still hold
ing control of her fortune, / might
have averted this pitiable confession
until / had made good her loss, or at
least have gained courage to tell her
all. Now h must know the truth ut
once, for I am no longer able to sup
port the style n living of a rich man.