The National tribune., 1901-04-18

|
the lake. 1t was impossible to dredge the
cool, profound depths of the little noun
| tain loch. 1t sometimes knew how to
| keep its secrets, but all that could be done
was done. The fact that neither body nor
boat, nor the slightest trace of either,
could be found, made Gilbert Sears's OBJ
| liberation seem still more complete and
certain.
Margaret kept up bravely against the
| tide of uncertainty, hour by hour ripening
into certitude. Firm in her faith in Gil
bert's honor, for her doubt had been but
| momentary, she waited for him to return.
From the circumstances, which seemed SO
| hopeless to everyone else, she drew the
conclusion that he was not dead. But
the strain and the excitement told on her
and attacked the constitution which even
| the exposures of that dreadful night had
not been able to impair. Everybody was
| very kind, but in their very kindness she
read pity. Even her mother had relented.
No matter how much Mrs. Keep may
have objected to the wife of Mrs. Green
| lees nephew, she could not refuse her
sympathy to his widow, as she fully be-
| lieved her daughter to be. Warm-heart-
| ed, though self-willed, her heart was
wrung by Margaret's grief-stricken face.
| She did not express any regret or COM
junction for what she had done in the
| past, but the alteration which was grad
| ually transforming her magnificent daugh-
| ter into pallid and shattered woman
| alarmed her beyond expression. One day
she stopped DR.. Belden as he drove by
the hotel and implored him to do some
thing for Margaret. The physician shook
his head.
"You must get her out in the air as
much as possible, madam" he said: dis
| tract her if you can: Only the mind can
work for good or evil in such case. If
you like | will come in and chat with her
| now and then, as a friend, merely. 1t is
| one of those times when a doctor LOOKS
at his medicine-chest and sighs to think
| how useless it is"
Tears stood in Mrs. Keeps eyes as she
| turned away.
The brabbles that had kept this lady's
one fault alive in public memory had made
| her morbid and self-conscieus. She was
| by no means a hard woman, and was in
many respects a tender mother. How
| ever, her widowhood had been dominated
| by three infuences-the care of the HUI
bert estate, her dislike (Which was tinged
| with fear) Of Miss Greenlee, and q ner-
vous feeling of remorse for the way she
| had treated Mr.. Bettson. Not that she
had ever been sorry she married Alfred
| Keep. Their love had been one of those
| rare and mighty passions whose sacred
ness nothing that is of earth can mar.
( People had not scrupled to say that the
death of her husband was her punish
| hltIl AOl Hudl oOLue tET siu. AIl
| such she almost came to regard the girl
ish treachery which had led her to marry
\ her dearest friends betrothed. She never
stopped to think that Alfred Keep was as
much il not more to blame for it.
AS time went on she began to have a
! friendly affection for her old lover. 1t be-
| longed to quite another world of emotions
from the fiery vehemence with which she
| had worShiped her husband. Mr.. Bett-
! sons silence, his having remained unmar-
| ried, the grave, courteous glance Of his
dark eyes when they met, was flattery too
| subtle for her TO withstand. She came to
wish that the old relations might be re-
newed and the noisy brabble silenced once
for all by her reparation. She made shy
attempts at reconciliation. They seemed
to her so apparent, almost SO braZen, that
all the world could understand. Mr.. Bett-
son never seemed to see them. Humil-
lated, ashamed for fear she had been I'M
| womanly, she plunged more fiercely into
the brabble again.
One day she awoke TO the fact TINT her
child had blossomed into a woman OF rare
lovelness, and with the realization came
a dream of atonement that was sanctified
by a true sacrifcial spirit and the highest
regard for Margarets welfare. In Mrs.
| Keeps mind there was no doubt that
Miss Gfeenlee's unexpected legacy to Mr..
BettsOn was coupled with some condi-
ton meant to work herself mischief, and
.hai EdItL . il1IIIdSe Win the fortunate
legatee could not help but be a double
triumph over the dead woman's spite. II
was only Characteristic of her that she
considered her own feelings in the matter
and those of Mr.. Bettson, more than she
did Margarets. She had objected to Gil
bert simply because of his aunt. She had
also mistrusted what part his aunt meant
him TO play i'll the feud that occupied her
J life and energies. Personally he was moth.
ing to her, and she could not realize that
he was and always had been more to Mar
garet than her mother herself was.
When her daughter refused to disavow
the marriage-tie assumed in so irregular
not to say scandalous, manner, it seemed
to Mrs. Keep that the end had come. Dur.
ing the long days Of uncertainty, though.
her hope began TO rise again and her
heart rejoiced. The future might still be
IL 70 IL nd cl.