Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1902-07-21

would restore that which l have los.-
my self-respect, my self-esteem; IL
would give me courage to raise my
head once more amongst my fellow
men; it would take from me the brand
OF shame. Oh, Ianthe, if all the gifts
of this fair earth were laid before me
now, I should choose-money!"
Poor papa!" said the girl, quietly.
"You may make yourself easy on one
point-I will be civil to Mr.. sCulross.
Heaven guide us safely through our
troubles!" And, so saying, she left
him to prepare for the coming guest.
CHAPTER Ill.
Troubles never come alone" SAID
Lord Care. See, Ianthe, here is a
letter from Wyndham; he will he
home in six months, and he asks me
to have his money ready, as he know
of an excellent investment for it. My
dear child, can l write and tell him
that it is lost? l am in despair
He bowed his white head, and she
had no words with which to comfort
him; this brought their trouble nearer
to her, and made it more real than |
had even seemed before. He raised
his haggard face to hers.
ct will kill me, Ianthe,' he said. Il
shall never live to meet him.
She could not comfort him. She
had love, devotion, the warmest, truest
affection to offer him, but no money,
and money was the only thing chat
could help him then. She stood by
helpless. while the father she loved
SO dearly humbled himself before hec
in his shame and disgrace.
Herman Culross was expected that
evening, and it had touched her
heart with keenest pain to see the old
earl with trembling hands gathering
UP his papers, and trying in vain to
give matters proper business aspect.
"He may be a kind-hearted man
after all, Ianthe," he observed, "and
anxious to spare me- And then he
broke into passion of child-like tears,
CRYING, 81 cannot leave Croombe. /
cannot see Croombe pass into his
hands. | would rather burn it down
and die in the ashes
His daughter shared his passion OF
grief; rather than leave Croombe,
rather than see it pass into the hands
OF this parvenu, she would have set
fire to it. But she was young and
hopeful. She was only eighteen, and
she could not quite believe in this
crushing weight of sorrow. Some way
out of it would be found. Yet sh,;
owned to herself that she did no.
know of one.
She dressed herself with exquisite
taste, not to attract the attention or
excite the admiration of Mr.. Culross
she was incapable of such an 1uea-
but to please her father, the earl;
and never had the proud Lady Ianthe
looked more lovely. She wore a
simple evening dress of white silk
trimmed with green leaves, and a
suite of opals, the changeful light OF
which suited we'll her bright regal
beauty. The masses of brown ripping
hair formed coronCt to the beautiful
face. She was imperially fair.
She smiled when she thought or
presumptuous Herman Culross, the
plebeian, the Millionaire, for in the
days of his early youth he had dared
tC raise his eyes to her-had dared to
worship her as some bright, far-off
star-what was worse, had dared to
give that worship voice.
1t had happened in this way. AS a
boy, while the terms of the mortgage
were being negotiated, he had been
taken to Croombe Abbey; and there,
walking with her governess in the
park, he had seen Lady Ianthe-seen
what he thought was the fairest
vision on earth. Boy as he was,
he had become almost insane
about her. She had glanced at him
only once; she had looked at him with
those calm, serene eyes that took so
little interest in anything at
him, wondering who he was, and why
he was there.
"He IS a plebeian," she had said to
herself, and had passed on scornfully.
He was only boy, but that one
glance had set his heart on fire. He
asked her name and had fingered IN
the park, hoping to see her again, and
had failed. He had gone home haunted
by her. dreaming of her, mad about
her; and, when he could bear his
dreams no longer, he had poured out
his boyish, passionate love in verse
verse that would have brought tears
to kindly eyes, it was so full of love
and longing.
After many days he sent it ad.
dressed to the Lady Ianthe Care, and
signed with his name. She was quite
child at the time, even as he was a
fair-faced boy, but her anger was
terrible. A manufacturers son, a boy
| lcwly born, a plebeian, to dare to send
love-verses to her! Lady Iantne
simply tore the closely-written pages
in two, and returned them.
That was years before-but Lazy
Ianthe had never forgiven the insult,