The pioneer press. (Miller, Hand County, S.D.) 1893-190?, 1903-08-13
CHAPTER XIX.
The Forued Letter.

The Forged Letter.
CDR. Richard Hayes" 1t was his
card Avice Meredith held In her slen-
der hand a few mornings later, with
the knowledge that he whose name 1t
bore awaited her presence in the draw
ing room.
She went away slowly down the
stairs, half glad, half annoyed, that he
had come. The influence that this
man exerted over her was a strange
one. Away from him, she instructive
ly mistrused him; with him, he fas-
cinated her, while her heart never
quickened by a single pulse.
He rose now to greet her as she en-
tered the room, and it seemed to her
his face was paler than its wont. In
deed, now she looked again, she was
sure that 1t was so, and that a sort Of
suppressed agitation marked his man
ner. ...
at seems very long since have
seen you, Miss Avice." he said, earn.
estly.
pray, how do you mark time by
your calendar" she responded light
ly. by mine only three days have
fed since that pleasure was mutual"
Three days? Rather three eterni-
ties Does my language appearsto you
exaggerated? Doubtless ii does; yet
how often do we throw away the drop
of water for which men would sell not
only their bodies but their souls!
Avice, the man you love is unworthy
of you, yet on him you pour the treas
ures, one morsel of which / would
guard with my hearts blood"
Unworthy of me, DR.. Hayes? And
you, who profess to be his friend, come
! here in his absence to tell me this!
/ How little could he whom you call I'M
worthy fathom the smallness of such
an act? Sir. must beg that you will
leave mel" rising in her naughty an
ger, to her feet.
moi" he answered, also standing
before her. II do not speak without
| proof; but such proof as will bring the
| first cloud upon the horizon of your
! happiness. Will you not trust me,
Avice, without forcing me into dis.
| closing all?"
Never, sir! Say what you have to
! say. do but listen that l may the
better refute your malicious charges"
"As you will, then. You have never
doubted, Avice, the fact of your parent
age?"
Pure and simple amazement was
In the glance lifted to his.
81 do not understand you," she said.
II feared that you would not, and I
wish that the explanation had been
left to any tongue but mine. You do
not know, then, that by the law of ma
ture you have no right to the Mere
dith name, although the law of man
has given 1t to you"
The law of mani" she repeated,
her face blanching and. her slender
figure swaying like reed.
You do not understand" he con-
tinued gently. "Poor child! II is
simply this: You are but the adopted
daughter of Mr. Henry Meredith"
at is falsel My father! my fatherl
come back from your grave and rerute
this cruel charged"
at is true, Avice-as true as that
my lips utter the words. would to
God that might spare you, but 1t may
not be. Henry Meredith adopted you
when helpless infant. He gave you
his name; he intended that the world
should never know; he was in every
sense father to you"
THE truest, the best that ever
true, whose child, then, am I? What
relation was to him, that he gave me
his name and his lover"
The man was silent.
Avice watched him, with an awful
dread gathering In her eyes. She
staggered forward toward him, and
laid one little, trembling hand upon
his arm.
what were my parents?" she said.
in hoarse whisper. "If you have one
spark of manhood In your body, an
swer me"
"The records of La Madeleine give
/. no NJ mes." he answered, slowly. you
were left on its steps at night"
! Quickly he threw out his arm, as he
spoke; but too late--the girl had fall
| en- senseless at his feet,
With certain tenderness, born of
his professional skill, he lifted her to
the sofa, and, with the aid Of the rem
edies he drew from bis pocket, soon
saw the long lashes lift themselves
from the marble Wilderness OF her
cheeks--a long, hutterjng sigh escape
the ashen lips.
.sLa Madeleine?" she whispered,
shudderingly, then covered her face
/ with her hands.
How long had It been that che. from