The Weiser signal. [volume] (Weiser, Idaho) 1890-1904, 1900-12-27

II # # # II # #
= THE SHADOWS
# OF THE +
H(0RDILLERA;;##z
- Or, The hdOnofid Flower. =
4-'t' BY VIRGINIA LEILA VENT. ~
81 CoPYRIGHT, 1900, III
BY ERWIN WARDMAN.
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CHAPTER VI.

Rue de Varennes. The man was say
ing:
$50 you refuse to marry me. That's
foolish of you, but whether you do or
not you haven't>the heart to allow me
to rot in poverty while you luxuriate in
afiluence. Considering our old time re-
lations, the things impossible on the
face of it."
"Ah" returned the woman, "then
you have come here to begY She spoke
with careless scorn.
mo. One begs when one has no pow
err to enforce" he corrected with q Sc
raphic smile. 1--WE come all the way
from America to offer you my hand
and make an honest woman Of you. If
you refuse to recognize my claims upon
you I'm in position to take reprisals."
The woman did not answer.
"If you've any trace of your old self
left, Marie"-the mans voice was low
and soft, conciliatory, caressing almost
surely you love me STILL Think how
you loved me once"
The mesmerlc, musical voice came
near undoing Marie de Guerin.
WAS it you 1 loved" she said
dreamily, cor the man my untutored
heart took you to be? All, the weary,
weary months when l wanted you,
when l sobbed for you day and night!
Where were you then, Edouard Pey-
rac?' She seemed to be living In the
hungry past, but only for a moment.
The hot scorn of the present surged
over her and dried up the tears at their
source. "Now," she said, 81 do not
need you"
She rose with an air Of dismissal.
Look here, Marie" pursued the
man, keeping his seat, 'if you will lend
me helping hand from time to time
I'll promise never to take step to
harm you. Moreover, l shall be mod
crate. You might-simply buy a pic
ture occasionally. That would be the
incest way. Yes, you might buy my
pictures"
1T might be well to know whether
am dealing with a blackmailer or a
bagman," remarked the woman wea-
rily.
Edouard Peyrac flushed red but he
conquered his savagery and went on:
i've not sold picture for over a
twelvemonth, and I'm head over heels
In debt. I've been hanging around
friends houses for a year, and here
you are, rich beyond the dreams of ay-
arice. You can't expect me to sit down
in silence"
Now, If you are quite ready to goY
suggested the woman quietly, putting
her hand upon the bell button.
This time the mans anger got the
better of him. He scowled and looked
at her blackly. ''I'm not. / think it's
absurd of you to smash your social DO.
sition In the face like this. What will
become of 1T, do you suppose, when l
nave good, long talk with the fau-
bourgT
ITO man of intelligence the solu-
ton surely can offer no difficulty" she
said languidly. But she added with a
vague little smile, ''If you could dream
how remotely my social standing inter
ests me you wouldn't bother about It."
I'm going % give you a few days in
which to think this over. Perhaps In
the meantime you will care to send me
note He laid his card on the table
"In return for check I
Will send you picture. Now good
day."
Inc woman rang, and he was shown
out. AS he got into fiacre he thought:
BY Jove! What II she means TO turn
devotee again? What IL she doesn't
care rap about her social standing?
she always did talk about saints and
and feast days better than
anything elsev Then he remembered
her dainty, fastidious taste; he recalled
me sybaritic room he had lust left.
oh, no." he concluded.
Pierre" said Marie de Guerin to the
servant In the hall when the door had
'losed upon Peyrac, 81 expect M 10
Jure in half hour. 1 will receive him
n my boudoir."
So little later she rose from Tho
lesk at which she was writing and
greeted the priest. Pere Darville was a
nan whose eyes were kind and whose
mouth was firm. He looked the man to
10 without swerving what his con-
clence told him, were 1t even to cost
he happiness Of all he loved. In fact
nat Is why Mile. de Guerin had sent
or him-she had seen his face and II
ad appealed to her.
He sat down in her little blue and
old boudoir with the ease of a man of
ne world who was as much at home
mong the cushions Of woman's sane
I'm as on the hard seat of a confess
onal. {
Il wrote for you. father, because I
eco help. II have not many friends"
he woman's voice was listless. tired
Il VIII help you If can, nv daupb-
r. MY whole time belongs to each
'ul that comes to me. Are You a child
the churchY q
once was. I was an orphan, pre-
ring TO enter convent, when love \
what l mistook for love-came into A
y life. l balanced the flashing Jewel ]
10 the paste diamond, and | threw I
e nrst away" The woman's hands b