Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909, 1902-02-25
CHAPTER X.

Long since the moon has mounted tn
heavens; now it is at it's full. A myria'
stars keep company with it, the hush o
sleeping nature pays homage to it. Sol
emnly, slowly, from the old belfry towe
the twelve strokes of midnight hav
sounded on the air.
Vera, rising cautiously from beside Gri
selda, who is, as usual. sleeping the sleel
of the just, slips gently on to the bar
white across which the moonbeams ar
travelling delicately.
Sleep has deserted her. Weary at las
of her efforts to lose herself and her hate
full thoughts in unconsciousness, she de
termines to rise and try what study maj
do for her. She steps lightly across the
room, opens the door and speeds with al
haste over the corridor, gaunt and ghost
ly in the dim light, down the grand Ole
staircase, and enters a room on the lef
of the library, where one day she made
the discovery that comfort was to b'
found.
Striking a match, she lights lamI
upon a side table and proceeds to exam
inc the book shelves. Taking down one
that she thinks will please her, Vera
kneels upon one of the deep window
seats, looks outward, trying to pierce the
soft and scented gloom.
The opening of the door rouses her. L
is quite an hour later-an hour forgotten
by her as she read. With a sudden star
she looks up, turning her face over hel
shoulder to the door, to see who can be
coming in at this unholy hour. Hel
heart grows cold within her as she sees
-Seaton Dysart!
In silence they stare at each other
Vera, indeed, so great is her astonish
ment, forgets to rise, but sits there curl
ed up among her furs, with little frozen
look of fear and detestation on her per
feet face.
Il have disturbed you," says Seaton
at last, breaking the spell, and speaking
in distinctly unnatural tone.
81 did hope l should have found pri'
vacy somewhere, at some hour" says
she, coldly.
II came for book" says he, contrite-
ly. "Now that l am here, will you per
NIT me to say a few words in my own
defense?
'Oh, defenser says she, with undis-
guised scorn.
"Certainly. l would prove to you how
entirely you have wronged me, says he,
firmly at acknowledge that once my
father expressed a wish that l should
marry you,' coloring darkly, "always
provided you were willing to accept me;
and I''-slowly-"acceded to that wish.
But why, why?" demands she, flash
ing round at him.
II do not wonder at your question. 1t
seems impossible there should be a rea-
son." replies he, coldly; ''for ever since
the first hour we met you have treated
me with uniform unfriendliness, 1 had
almost said discourtesy."
There is q reason, nevertheless" says
she, hotly. She has come a step or two
nearer to him, and her large, lustrous
eyes, uplifted, seem to look defiance into
his. Your reason I can fathom-but
your fathers-that, l confess, puzzles
me. Why should he, whose god is money,
choose the penniless daughter of the
brother he defrauded to be-"
"Defrauded?" interrupts Seaton, with
a frown.
Call it what you WILL" with an ex-
pressive gesture of her hand-''undertake
his defense, too; but the fact remains
that the iniQuitous deed that gave to
your father what should have been ours
was undoubtedly drawn up by my uncle.
have heard all about it hundred times.
Your father hardly denied it to mine
when last writing to him. His taking
us home to live with him was, l sup
pose, a sort of reparation. To marry me
to you, and thus give me back the prop
erty he stole-is that reparation, tooT'
She is as pale as death, and the hands
that cling to the back of the chair near
her are trembling. But her lips are firm
and her eyes flashing. 1t occurs to Sea-
ton, gazing at her in breathless silence,
that if she could have exterminated him
then and there by look she would have
done it.
You degrade yourself and ME when
you talk like that" says Seaton, who is
now as pale as she is. For heaven s
sake try to remember how abominably
you misrepresent the whole thing. If my
father had a freak Of this kind in his
head-a desire to see you married to his
only son-surely there was no discourtesy
10 you contained in such a desire. 1t was
rather-you must see that-a wellmeant
arrangement on his part. 1t was more -
boldly. He loves me; in wishing to see
you my wife he paid you the highest
compliment he could. l defy you to re-
gard it in any other light"
You plead his cause wel-it is your
own" says she, tapping the back of the
char with taper, angry hngerS. why
take the trouble? Do you think you can
bring me TO view the case in lenient
light? Am l likely to forget that you
you aided and abetted your father in try
ing to force ME into this detested mar
riage|'
pray put that marriage out of your
head" says he. slowly. You have taken
it too seriously. l assure you l would
not marry you now if you were as will
ing as you are unwilling. / can hardly
put il stronger.
when my grandfather left this prop
erty to your father" she says, slowly.
''he left it purposely unentailed. Your
father, then. were you to cross his
wishes, could leave you, as l have been
left, penuiless. To avoid that, you would
fall in with any of his views. You would
even so far sacrifice yourself as to-mar-
ry me" Oh, the contempt in her tone.
There is long pause. Then Seaton.
striding forward, seizes her by both arms
and turns her more directly to the light.
The grasp of his hands is as wise, and
-afterwari-it seemed to her that he
had. involGntarily. as it were, shaken
her slightly.
How dare your" he says, in a low.