The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1904-04-16

man entering the picture gallery through
the bay window. and Mary Holland pro-
ceeding TO the French window of the
drawing room.
Sarah followed her. still clinging to the
shadow. She reached the drawing room
to find the blinds drawn before the win
dows, and the windows closed. AS she
paused to consider her next step. the
shadow of Mary Holland was thrown up
on the blind-a strange appealing phan-
tom. with its hands appraised as if in sup
plication.
Sarah's hand shook the window frame.
There was another pause, and then the
blind was snatched hastily aside, and
Mary's face was pressed against the in
ner side of the glass.
Who's theref"
Let me in. 1t is Sarah" replied
our heroine.
Mary Holland unfastcned the window
and admitted her. Both women looked
keenly at each other-and both were very
pale.
Mary Holland walked slowly from the
window. which she had unlocked to admit
Sarah Eastbell. and sat down in the arm
chair by the fire. There was painful 81
lence, each young woman waiting for the
other to speak. and each on guard.
1t was Mary Holland who began at
last.
Il had no idea that you were in the
garden. Sarah" she said slowly: "were
you not afraid Of catching cold, at this
late hour of the nightY'
Weren't your" was the quick re-
joinder.
II wanted fresh air." said Mary.
speaking slowly: 81 had been in attend
ance upon your grandmother all day, ard
she has been more than ordinarily exact
ing. But you have been travelling, end
were fatigued.'
Il was fatigued." said Sarah East5el,
until | reached this house and found it
full of change-and you changed with
all the rest"
Il have not changed in any one de-
gree said Mary Holland, clasping her
hands suddenly together; 81 am the same
woman that | have ever been"
my friend-and hers?' said Sarah
meaningly.
Yes" answered Mary, and she met
again the steady gaze of her inquirer. 1t
outlook from the full gray eyes. and one
could scarcely doubt the truth upon it
even then.
But" began Sarah. hesitatingly.
when the other interrupted her.
But | am a young woman with more
secrets than one upon my mind, and they
have come more closely to me of late
days. And now am more helpless than
thought was" she said
Sarah Eastbell drew a chair toward
her. and sat down by the side of Mary
Holland.
Mary" she said tetchily. IL hate peo-
pie with secrets. and there is enough mys-
terry about this life without your adding
to it. Will you trust me, or will you
not?'
MY child, ] am five or six years older
than you. Why, ! have scarcely learned
to trust myself yeti When | have full
confidence in Mary Holland, may put
faith-implicit faith--in Sarah Eastbell,"
she said. in those old crisp tones of voice
that had given character to her before
this; "but loving and respecting her genu-
inc nature as | do. still must keep my
troubles to myself"
You have nothing to tell me, thenY"
Not yet. Only this" said Mary, look
ing up again; II will ask for the old conf
dcnce. which appears to be sinking away
without any power of mine to stop it,
These are strange times, and | must be
strange with them. Bear with me. Sarah
Eastbell."
II am alone in this house, where there
are many enemies now" said Sarah:
why should trust you any longer? You
know what my brother is--yOu can guess
what his companion is likely to be. And
yet you and that man were whispering
together in the garden for half an hour
tonight. You two are soon friends Has
Captain Peterson fallen in love with
youT'
ION the contrary, | think Captain Pc
terson detests me very cordially"
you know that he is a villain then!
that two years ago he was in league
with coiners-that | knew him by sight
in Potter's Court--that his presence here
means danger to honest peOpleT'
Honest people can surely take care
of themselves against such petty kna very
as his, and his friends" said Mary, al
most contemptuously: II have warned
him that We are on our guard in this
house"
will they defy me and remain?' was
the rejoinder.
For a while. perhaps--until they are
weary of a life that is unsuited to Them,
or until your grandmother knows the
truth Of your brothers rascality, with
which she should have been acquainted
long since"
II could not see this day. l wanted to
keep her heart light TO the last" nur-
INJURED Sarah: land now my falsehood
turns upon myself, and puts that poor
weak life in danger too. For they would
b. glad of her death" she said in an ex-
cited whisper. II read il in their faces.