Custer County Republican. (Broken Bow, Neb.) 1882-1921, 1902-03-27
CHAPTER XII.

VIA EN- all,
A pleasant turf lire glowcd and hnmed
in the dingy sitting room at Traveere,
and near it Mr.. pOynz sat writing at
the unsteady old table, on which two
lighted candles stood. Never had there
been such blaze of light in the gloomy
room. either through Col. st. Georges
occupation of Traveere, or since his death
never until this night, when the light
was to guide the murderer.
Mark had turned aside from the table,
and had his pen idle in his hand. when
the door was quietly opened aud Nora
came in-came in just as If 1t were
natural thing for her to visit him alone,
after darkness had fallen on the world
without. But, though her ease was so
pretty, he could see that she only main
tanned ii by great effort. and that her
face was white and her eyes troubled.
With great gadness in his eyes. he
had risen in the first moment; but the
gladness rapidly gave way to apprehen-
sion.
"I'm-please don't ask ME what Is the
matter, Mr.. Poynz," Nora said, hurrying
over the words. Every one is well at
the vicarage-I am quite well--notbing
has happened. Please understand all that,
and don't question me tonight. lam
come to pay you call. | have called
upon you-isn't that the right expression
in society," Please say you are glad to
see me"
IL am very glad to see YOU" Mark
said, doing his best to hide his surprise,
and pretending not to see the shy, panied
color that had rushed into her face. Il
was only beginning to wish that ] had
made Traveere more comfortable. This
is the first evening have spent here.
But | am expecting Doyle tonight; and
he must have been detained, for sent
TO summon him long ago | wish to see
him here, else | should probably have
been at the vcarage or Fintona tonight.
| am at your service, Miss st. George. |
will go home with you whenever you
| wish"
THANK you." she returned, simply. II
| will tell you when | am ready. They
| don't know | am here. | cannot tell you
! why | came-until tomorrow; but you
trust me, don't you?"
Trust your he echoed, his warm eyes
| full of amusement as well as of utter
| confidence in her. 81 should--no, | will
be like yourself. and tell you tomorrow.
! Wait, Miss st. George, and let me close
| it."
This he added because she glanced to-
ward the open window and shivered Il
! little.
Mono, please" she said, as she in.
tercepted him. II like to do it. | coulL
! fancy she went on. without lowering
her voice, as she stood alone in the mar
row aperture, that was living here still
with grandpa. 1t is just as quiet as II
used to be. No one ever used to come
to Trdveere--after dark"
Not even DIR. Armstrong;" questioned
Mark, lightly, wondering why she made
it impossible for him to stand beside hel
at the window and look out with her into
the darkness. Come to the fire, Nils,
ST. George; you have grown chilly"
"Ies," she said, turning readily. II
you will lead the way, | will follow"
He laughed quite heartily then, az 1T
crossed the room to the hearth; but, whel
she literally followed him and stood be
side him there-still between him and tn,
unshuttered window--a vague, uneas.
feeling grew upon him that somethiu;
must be amiss with her Could she b
suffering from any nervous, girlish at
tack, the result OF her return to the oil,
scenes OF her lonely youth?
mir. Poynz," she said without an,
hesitation, though she did not know her
self what words she was going to utter
will you please allow me, for Just thi
one evening, to fancy myself at HON
here again, doing as | like. and goin
where like? And will you do as l as
: you-just this once?"
you are sure you will claim the priv
ilege only just this onceY" he asked, try
ing to decide that some unexpected tror
Bile or pain had upset her. Then
think may safely promise. Will yo
stir the fire. Miss st. George? You III
derstand turf fire so much better tina
e | do"
: Thank YOU" she said. not for this
proposal, but because she saw now thu
: he would understand and not questio
S or doubt her, 1T is very dark. isn't il
I Did you notice how suddenly it gre,
), dark to-night?"
S mo; but then have been sitting hel
d all the evening. 80 the twilight SCENE
long to me-"
" 81 will sit down, Mr.. Poynz," she sal
d "Of course | must take a seat, as | a
e paying you n call. Please be very e
:, tcrtainiug. You were writing, weren
n YOU, when | came in? Then would yC
If mind lending me book to read viii
o YOU 20 on with your writing?"
o us it that what you wishp asIC
', Mark, cleverly once again hiding his su
S prise. Then where will you sit?"
d AS he carried the chair, she walk,
II with him up to the seat he had been O
cupying all the evening, and, with h
l. back to the window, directed him, laug
IS ngly, how to PLACE hers; and, when
h. had done her bidding, smiling n litt
y himself, too, she sat down on her hig
ID uncomfortable chair, in the direct Ii
ar from the window, while he sat wrti
ID busily beyond her, preOccupied by |
o, work, as il seemed to her. And beyol
X the unshuttered window-against viii
ar the darkness lay like a sable curta
lie and toward which Nora tried never on
pr to caucasian Corr crouched, with
at loaded riio against his shoulder. watt