Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1900-08-23

will at least give you comfort. And as
for Grace-let me go to her. Let me
tell her ALI"
ut is not necessary; Grace has heard
ALI" interrupted voice.
Both men started and looked up.
In the door of the summer house
stood the slight, graceful figure, which
had long grown so familiar to their
sight: but the child's cheek was
blanched to the whiteness of her dress.
and pitiable look of suffering was
clearly to be read in the azure-tinted
eyes.
eyes, I have heard ALL" she repeat
ed, coming slowly forward, her gaze
fixed on her guardian, her glance stedi-
ly avoiding him who, last night. had
left upon her lips the kiss of lover.
"Uncle." she whispered, twining both
arm around Mr.. Reynolds neck, II
know now what you meant this morn
ing, when you spoke of something you
might have to tell me. Only that you
have lost some Of my money. Never
never let us speak, or even think Of it
again. And never while you live, and
beggar. You said a moment ago I
rich; and, as for Harry's fortune, you
She paused. She had thought herself
wife," but they choked her in their ut
ued, after this little pause, "she is
your daughter now. Don't forget that,
and promise me that you will grant
T. -
daughter"
"Merciful heaven!" cried the old
man. Grace, you can plead for him!?"
For the first time the girl turned her
eyes toward the spot where Harry
Reynolds stood.
"What he says is true, uncle" she
said. II was but child-and he-he
loved her even-last night. To-day I
think that have grown into woman.
Something deep down in my heart
tells me what the love was which
could have. prompted him to act as he
has done. If he wronged her. uncle,
he owed her-not Inauguration. He
he did right-quite right. Uncle
dear uncle, if you owe me anything,
forgive Harry, and let me pay that
debt!'
II thought right" unused the young
man. silently. "she will not even shed
a tear for my lost love. She took 1t as
any other plaything would have Of
fered her."
But, even as the thought passed
through his mind, he met the glance Of
the blue eyes appraised to his, and saw
in their depths such look of dumb,
hopeless anguish as caused his blood
to chill with sudden dread.
1t was the look of one stricken to
death, and stricken by the hand best
loved on earth.
He started forward and caught in
his the little hand.
"Grace! Grace! forgive met" he
cried.
FLUSH, DEAR" she said, gently. cit is
not for me to forgive, unless uncle will
let me put the words in his lips. Will
you, Uncle Edgar? May I answer
Harry in your name??"
"I can't! 1 can't!" groaned the old
err man. "That woman in your place
the woman who schemed and toiled to
win my boy, my proud old name-hers
to drag, if she wills it, in the dust. o.
God! what have I done to deserve Of
heaven such punishment as this?''
With a muttered articulation of bit
terest wrath, Harry Reynolds turned
away, but there fell on his arm a gen.
tie, OBTAINING grasp.
Uncle, you are speaking of Harry's
wife," said Grace. And this time there
was no hesitation in he< pronunciation
of the word. IT think you must for
get
1T do forget" he said. "Grace is
right. But not in mute can I pre-
pare myself to look on things different
ly. For yourself, my son, I forgive
you. God grant the day may never
dawn when, in bitter repentance for
the act for which the rash blood Of
youth is answerable, you may find it
more difficult to extend that forgive
ness to yourself. Say to your-wife,
that, just yet I cannot meet her, but
that will try later to prepare myself
for our future meeting. Come, Grace,
let us go into the house."
AS though ten years had fallen dur
ing the last hour on his broad Shout
ders, he drew the little girls hand
within his arm and turned his foot
steps, suddenly feeble. homeward.
Goodbye, Harry!" Whispered Grace,
into his. "Give her my-love!"
He stood motionless and watched the
two retreating figures until a turn In
the path lost them to sight.
A cold, dull weight fell on his spirit
as they disappeared from his view,
sudden premonition Of evil, a sense Of
loss; and yet, in private suite Of
rooms at the Arlington, the woman
whom he so passionately loved await
ed his coming.
In the remembrance of her beauty,
he shook off the cloud which had
dared obscure the sunlight of such an
hour, and, turning, walked hastily to-
ward the hotel.
With loving welcome the young wife
met him. With her head resting on
his shoulder she listened silently to the
story-all that had taken place during
the hour. +I.
"Your father is no longer rich.
them" she said, when he had paused.
The question Jared on Harry Rey-
nolds ear.
'My father, to-day, is poor man."
he replied; "but so much Of Grace's
fortune still remains, that, doubtless,
she will keep the old house as it al