The pioneer press. (Miller, Hand County, S.D.) 1893-190?, 1902-07-03
an. The hnnr wa. nearly IL. and the

| the mousse.
She sat listening thus. strainlng her
ears to catch the slightest sound. sud
denly there came a loud clamor at the
front door, an imperative knocking thar
| caused Ends heart to come into her
mouth. who could II be? What strang-
er had passed the dogs in that way?
She heard grabbed, sour, but cour-
ageous old williams go 10 the door.
She heard the clang of bolts and the
| rattle OF chains, and then a weird cry
| from Williams. 4 voice responded that
brought Enid. trembling and livid, into
| the hall. A young man with dark, ex-
ceedingIy handsome face and somewhat
| effeminate mouth stood there, with
eyes for nothing but the shining, flower
| decked casket on the trestles. He
seemed beside himself with grief and
rage. He might have been a falsely
| Imprisoned convict face to face with the
real culprit.
"why didn't you let me know?' he
i, cried. 'fwhy didn't you let me know"
His voice rang to the roof. Enid flew
| to his side and placed her hand upon his
| lips.
your mother is asleep, Frank" she
| said. "She has had no sleep for three
| "a
| of preserving her sanity. Why did you
come here?"
The young man laughed silently. 1t
was CHASTITY mirth to see and 1t
| brought the tears into Ends eyes. She
had forgotten the danger of the young
mans presence.
at heard that Chris was ILL.," he said.
"They told me that she was dying. And
| I could not keep away. And now have
| come too late Oh Chris. Christ
He fell on his knees by the side of the
coffin, his frame shaken by fearless
sobs. Enid bit her lips to keep back
! the words that rose TO them. She would
have given much to have spoken the
truth. But, at any hazard. she must
remain silent. She waited until the par
oxysm of grief had passed away, then
she touched the intruder gently on the
shoulder.
'There is great danger for you in this
house." she said.
What do 1 care for danger when
Chris lies yonder?"
But. dear Frank, there are others 10
consider besides yourself. There is your
mother. for instance. Oh you ought not
TO have come here tonight II your
father knew!"
"My father? He would be the last
person in the world to know. And what
cares he about anything, so long as ne
has his prints and his paintings? he
has no feelings, no heart, no SOUL
may say!"
Frank, you must go at once. Do you
know that Reginald Hanson is hereF
He has ears like hare; IL will be moth
ing less than a miracle unless he hears
your voice. And then"
The young man was touched at last.
The look OF grief died out Of his eyes
and a certain terror filed them.
4 think that I should have come In
any case" he whispered. Il don't want
to bring any further trouble upon you,
Enid, but 1 wanted to see the last OF
her. / came here, and some of the
dogs remembered me. If not 1 might
have had no occasion to trouble you.
And won't STAY seeing that Henson Is
here. Let me have something TO re-
member her by; let me look into her
room for a moment. II you only knew
how / loved her! And you look as II
| you had no grief at allr'
Enid started, guiltily. She had quite
forgotten her role for the time. Indeed,
there was something Enthusiastically like
relief on her face as she heard the por-
ter's bell ring from the lodge to the
house. Williams shuffled away, NUT
tering that he would be more useful in
the house than out of it just now, but
glance from Enid subdued him. Pres
emily there came the sound of wheels
on the grave outsidel
"They have come for the-the coffin"
Enid murmured. Frank it would be
best for you to go. Go up stairs, IL you
like; you know the way. Only, don't
stay here"
| The young man went off, dreamily. A
| heavy grief dulled and blinded his
senses; he walked along like one who
wanders in his sleep Christiana's door
was open and lamp was there. There
We're dainty knick- knacks on the dress
| ing table, a vase or two OF faded flow
ers-everything that denotes the pres
ence of refined and gracious woman
| hood
Frank Littimer stood there, looking
around him for some little time. On
the table by the bedside stood photo
graph OF girl in silver frame. Lit
| timer pounced upon IT hungrily. It was
| a good picture-the best of Christiana.s
that he had ever seen. He slipped out
! into the corridor and gently closed the
door behind him. Then he passed along
| with his whole gaze fixed on the por-
trait. The girl seemed to be smiling out
| of the frame ut him. He had loved
| Christiana since she was. a child; he felt
| that he had never loved her so much as
at this moment. Well. he had some
thing to remember her by-he had not
come IN vain.
1t seemed impossible yet to realize
| that Christiana was dead, and he
would never look into her sunny. tender
! face again. No; he would wake up
| presently and find II had all been
dream. And how different to the last
time he was here He had been snug
gled into the house, and he had occupied
the room with the oak door. He"
The room with the oak door opened,
| and big man with white bandage
/ around his throat stood there with tot
tering limbs and an ugly smile on his
loose mouth. Littimer started back.
'Reginald!" he exclaimed, II didn't
expect to see you here. or"
"Or you would never have dared to
conner" Henson said, hoarsely. II heard
your voice and 1 was bound TO give you
| welcome, even at considerable per-
sonal inconvenience. Help me back to
/