The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1904-06-23
CHAPTER VII

the nome OF theH reiauFet MI ShaAlen
Rogers, In Charles street, Liverpool, and
hidden the handsome young physician
farewell, who had cared for them both
90 tenderly during their passage across
the Atlantic.
II need only be said, In reference to
that farewell, that the tears rushed to
ths hazel eyes of Ethel as she saw him
disappear In the distance, and a great
and lonely void seemed suddenly to have
dropped into her heart.
She knew not why she had taken such
deep interest In this grave and often
pre-occupied stranger, but from the first
word Of kinaness he had spoken to her,
the hrst glance into his earnest eyes, she
had felt towards him 40 she had never
done towards any person Of the opposite
sex before.
But now Il was all over. he had gone,
and hencefOrward she can but learn to do
Wlthout him. For a day or so II had al
most seemed an impossibllity, but with
the rapid failure Of her aunt's strength
her thoughts were forced into another
channel and her own lonely feelings had
to be pushed aside for the more moment
Gus and important one Of their impend-
ing separation. N
The third week was drawing to a clost
and the young girl had thrown herself
upon her knees by the bedside Of the
invalid to catch the last words that she
had to speak In her ear. At her request,
she had been left alone with her child,
and now, with her hand in hers, she muir
mured
"Ethel. darling, feel that have but
few hours more to be with you, as my
strength Is fast waning; but while may,
] wish to tell you what | thought might
be kept from your cara until your TWEEN
ty-frat birthday; but as l shall not be
with you then, must impart to you now
an important secret, and give into your
charge some documents not to be opened
until that day. My dear, will you take
these papers, and promise me that you
will not break their seal until that time
arrlvesT
Il will, dearest aunt; rest assured
Will do exactly as you wish"
"The papers | speak Of, then, are In
my trunk inside small wallet. Take
charge OF them Immediately. and be sure
to aottend to them at the time mention.
Now, must tell you a fact that have
withheld from your knowledge for the
best OF reasons, and In order to keep
solemn pledge Of secrecy given to your
father when babe, took you, as you
are aware, when child of few weeks
old, as my own had died. as well as my
husbands sister, who was your dear
mother.
You were so young, and to be 50 en-
tirely ours until your twenty-hrst birth
day, that all thought 1t best to call you
BY our own name | now tell you, for
the first time what has been kept secret.
Your father still lives, but for various
reasons did not wish TO claim You or be
known to you until that time. / have
Informed him Of my husbands death,
my failing health, and OF my return TO
England. | have also given him Cousin
Rogers address, who win tell him where
you can be found when that date arrives.
Il will only add that there Is nothing
to be ashamed Of In your BIRTH You are
a true gentlewoman, and when twenty.
one will come into possession of
property sutflclent for your support; but
this fact IL not to be generally known.
-Four months will elapse before that
time comes, and | can leave only enough
to bury me and purchase suitable
mourning apparel for yourself.
81 dare not leave you without a pro-
tector and guardian, and as our present
host is poor and has n struggle to pro-
vide for his own dx children and wife,
have written TO my brother, Sir Regi
nald Glendennlng, asking him to take
charge of you. | told him unless he did
you would be obliged to earn your own
living, and hated to send you out into
the world alone for such a purpose. l
asked him II you could not be- of use In
some way to him, until the fifth of Oo-
tober, when you would be otherwise pro.
vided for. This letter must be sent af-
ter my lnterment. Let him be notified of
my death and invited to my funeral
then, after all Is over and your mourn.
ing garments are made, send him the let.
ter.
snow, my love, ! wish you to promise
me that you will go to him If he sends
for you, and assist him In whatever ca
pacity he offers, even though 1t may be
distasteful. win you do this for your
dying aunt, Ethel, my child"
II surely WILL" was the low reply sob
bed out almost with wall; "but | can
not think Of your dying. O, auntiel |
have loved you 80, how can live with
out your
"'As thy day, so shall thy strength
be- ls all | can say. God win comfort |
you, and In a few more months your
father will claim and protect you. But
what Ii thisf cannot seel am grow
Ing numb-coldl Hthel--Ethel--I am
dyingl''
She spoke no more, and a. Mr.. and |
Mrs Rogers haatened back to the room
at Ethel's hurried call, they saw that
che was indeed breathing her last.
Ethel mourned, as one with such
loving heart would naturally do, over
her great loss, but amid all her grief
she remembered distinctly every diree-
tion she had received from those loved,
dying lips. The package spoken Of was
hidden instantly amid her own posses
slons, and a message dispatched to the
baronet.
The next day a teiegraphic dispatch
summoned the young girl Immediately
to the presence Of the baronet, saying
shat he was III, and needed her at once"
An hour later saw her seated In a rail-
way train on her way to the Hail. Poor
girli she little knew what awaited her
therei
CHAPTER VIII.
ssTfaa ehe came7n aekad Sir RaRinah