Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1901-07-25
III T@GdZ,~ r.,' ~~ ;,
ELIZABETH
m1dpr&ag@> ' s,.:


I by such thought. father. You are
cruel and heartless to speak such words
to me: but YOU can never make me
wrong him, tool"
Then, where is he? If so constant
and true as you believe him. he must
be dead. How else, in these days OF
| fast ships, do you explain his silence?
Far away though it be, the mails are
regular enough. Why have you no It'd
ings from him? All, my sweet child,
! believe your poor father. who cares for
you. most of any one! If Shirley Aus
tin still lives, he has forgotten you and
| married some other girl
Il will stake my life on his faith and
TRUTH" returned Clarice, with enthusi-
assn.
believe him dead. then-there is no
other way out of the affair-dead or
false!' retorted her father, with cruel
decision.
Clarice wrung her hands wildly and
groaned aloud. in the extremity of her
tortured feelings; but her father, deaf
to that sound of suffering, pursued the
slight advantage he had gained, and
only changed his tone from hard and
almost brutal to one that was coaxing
and wheedling.
Don't give way, Clarice-don't give
way like that! Think of others besides
yourself. Haven't I been a good and
kind father to you? What have I ever
refused you, when had the power to
get 1t for you? The world has been
hard on me, Clarice; I have had much
disappointment to bear and few consol-
atoms. Think, my daughter-oh, think
deeply before you decide on destroying
the last chance may have of yet MAX
ing a successful life! But I will not
speak Of myself; my life has been
nearly all disappointment, and I have
learned to bear it. But consider your
mother-so delicate, so little able to
bear suffering and privation-and how
much of it she may have in store for
the futurej If you waste your youth IL.
useless regrets for one who is either
dead OR false. will say no more now,
but to implore you to consider deeply
all that have set before you"
MIR. Mowbray ended his exhortation,
having persuaded himself that every
word he had spoken was sincere and
from his heart-as, indeed, from his
own way of thinking, was truly the
case.
Clarice was touched by the reference
to her mother, who, in weak and silly
way, adored her daughter.
But she would give no promise, only
reiterating that she could not bring
herself to believe in Shirley Austin's
death.
Mowbray restrained any show of dis
appointment or rage, though his feel
ings almost overpowered him; for he
was willy enough to see that much care
would be necessary in obtaining Clare's
consent.
''She will yield at last, if we but man
age her WE'LL" he thought. II will
leave her now to her mother. But, by
Jove, I must look out that Grayson
does not see her in this mood. She
would refuse him in such way that
he would never ask her again, for he's
both proud and conceited. If had
proof that Austin was really dead, or
had forgotten her! The latter would
be even better, for she has fine spirit
when it's reused. Yes; could manage
her we'll if I had wounded love and
| pique to back me-"
| While these thoughts took rapid shape
in his mind, Mowbray had been holding
| his daughters hand in one of his, alb
sently stroking her fair, silky hair with
the other.
| With half-audible sigh he now en-
braced her, called her good girl and,
| by his manner, almost caused her to
feel that she had already given some
promise in regard to Philip Grayson.
| Before she could protest, or even utter
a word, he left her abruptly and sought
his wife.
Mrs. Mowbray was at all times a
figure of wax in the hands other her
husband. At any moment he could
mould her to his will, and now, with
! her own desire to aid him-for she was
/ dazzled with such prospect of wealth
for her daughter as we'll as for herself
lit was easy to win her as an enthusi-
astic supporter for the scheme on hand.
That evening Mowbray called upon
Philip Grayson, according to appoint
ment, but it was not to bear 'Clare's
grateful acceptance of the proposal
with which the millionaire had honored
her. On the contrary, he felt obliged
to explain the situation by garbled
version of the truth.
| Grayson's face became very dark and
angry.
II understood you to say that your
daughters hand was Free he said,
stifny.
| Mowbray FASTENED to reassure him
and vindicate himself.
"She is free, my dear boy-quite free.
The man speak of it dead"
| Grayson's face cleared rapidly.
"Ah, a dead man, he said, slowly.
ITO a man like me that is not very
| dangerous rivalry"
Before they parted Mowbray had
again promised the millionaire that
Clarice should become his wife, and the
lover seemed satisfied with the assrr-
ance.
A rumor soon spread abroad that
Clarice Mowbray was to marry Philip
Grayson, and although it was speedily
discussed in society and glanced at ii.
occasional newspaper paragraphs, 1T
was several days before it reached the
! ears of Kate Martin.