Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1901-03-14
CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER II.
For a little time the silence was un-
broken. Then Beatrice raised her cad
What do you mean to do, Bertrand"
she asked. and how can / help you?"
by bidding me Godspeed, my dar-
ling, and by promising me to bravely
wait my return. 1 am going out TO the
mines in Colorado. / am going to stake
my little on the chances OF striking for
tune at the turning tide. l may sue
coed. / may fail. but I have faith to be-
lievc that I will succeed. At any rate,
1 cannot stay here. 1t would be years
before / could prove to your father that
no mercenary influence induced my
hope of winning you. / have already
made my arrangements. II 1 had a
larger amount of money, I could at
once secure a valuable interest, but /
must wait for that"
YOU need more money, Bertram?
Oh, let me go TO papa and ask him for
it! He will not deny me-"
Impossible, my child! Besides, IL
would only bring the end a little nearer,
and by my own exertions l shall attain
the goal. Once / would have gone
frankly to your father, as to the best
friend any man might have. But that
is past. But for leaving you, Beatrice,
/ should not regret the new life n the
new hopes; but, oh. my darling. to
leave you, knowing that another loves
you!-one, too, who exerts so strange.
60 ,nv nnnthIA - sn9.tnnEa nXrAr
your father. / am tempted to throw all
aside, and stay near you. to watch and
protect you"
Behind the tree a dark face grew
darker. and beneath a silken mustache
met cleaning white teeth with grinding
force.
II, too, feel, Bertram, that I cannot
let you CO." whispered the girl. why
should SO cruel a thing as this separa-
ton be entailed upon US? Listen to me,
BERTHE! / will see papa tonight I
will tell him frankly that we have met,
and then / will throw my arms about
his neck, and tell him that he is break
ing my heart. Do you know what he
will do, BERTHE? He viii end by giving
me my way, and making us both hap
by. / will tell him that / hate his
man, whose tie OF relationship to me l
fairly loath. / will unmask him-I will
show papa how cruel and ~treacherous
he is. Why, Bertram, to bend circum-
stances to his will, I believe he would
murder. He would pause at no obsta-
Gle that lay in his path. Don't be too
proud, BERTHE. You shall make his
journey, If you still wish; but first
papa shall give his consent to u mar
riage, on your return. 1 am willing to
wait for that long years. If must be-
until your fortune is made; but I must
have the protection OF u acknow-
lodged love during your absence. win
meet o here tomorrow night, BERTHE.
You will not fail me?"
mo, darling; my love is stronger
THAI my pride. / will be here"
A few moments more she fingered in
his embrace, while the figure near them
stole from it's lurking place, and glided
back to the house.
well, did you find her, Randolph"
called a voice as he came within view
of the piazza.
The man did not answer, as he slowly
drew near the speaker, while in his
brain quick thoughts revolved as TO
how. his reply should be couched.
When the distance between them had
been traversed his mind was made up.
Yes, Cousin Donald, / found her." he
said. slowly.
And you have quarreled again, Ran
dolph? Or why did she not return with
your"
II fastened back myself because 1
did not wish to pry upon a lovers meet
nptt fcooalyfn- ,,nA.A G,l, -a,v a.. 10
with sudden frankress) You think
I have sometimes suspected-that I
have tempted you into injustice toward
Bertram Talbot; yet, IL you will stroll
across your own lawn, you will find
him tempting your daughter to another
surreptitious meeting for another night,
and pleading with her to use her in
ffuence with you, meanwhile, to ac-
knowledge him her accepted lover. He
needs money. he says, for some mining
scheme. and, as your acknowledged
son-in-law, can obtain all he covets. To
Beatrice's generous heart this all seems
natural. You and I can understand 1t.
I hate to tell you this. but I should not
be doing my duty did / leave 1t un-
said"
White with fierce rage, Donald Mark.
ham sprang from his seat.
You tell me this man steals into my
grounds like a thief, and, in secret
meetings with my child endeavors thus
to win her favor? Where are they?"
"Be calm, Cousin Donald! Beatrice
is h~igh-spirited. She must not suspect
me of giving you this information. All!
here she comes now! Let her believe
you saw them yourself; only you will
no longer think yourself unjust toward
Bertram Talbot"
Unjust? mol" he cried, with trem-
bling voice. But Beatrice-Beatrice,
whom I loved and trusted. She, too,
has lent herself to this deceit"
"She is young, n her love blinds
her." answered the other, gently.
In her white robes. with fragrant
roses at her waist, Beatrice crossed the
lawn In the full moonlight, advancing
toward them. For the first time her
presence brought no softening lines in
Donald Markham's face. He stood
awaiting her. Before she could speak
he drew her hand within his arm and
led her into the library.