Condon globe. (Condon, Gilliam Co., Or.) 189?-1919, 1904-03-03
CHAPTER XII.

Of sedge Hill Worcester. his position in
the county or his opinion Of himself.
did not exercise any restraint upon the
peculiarlties Of the young woman who
confronted him; who leaned across tho ta-
BILE. ans unceremonIously snatchcd from
hls hands the painting that she had plac.
Cd between them. There was no respect
for persons 10 the mind Of Lucy Jennings.
especially when her blood was up.
what do you mean by nothing Of tho
sortT she exclaimed, and at the omlnous
flashing Of her eyes Simon Culwick's low
er jaw dropped: haven't you come In all
humility, and kindness, and Christian
charity 10 this hOusef'
Certainly not" said Mr.. CulwIck,
making a stand for Il.
"SIt down. please. while talk 10 yon,"
said Lucy very feverishly, and al the
young woman'a excitement Mr. Cnlwick
slnred In mute nmAzemeBt. Have you
ever thought what Ii TO become Of you,
old man, when you are closer 20 the grave
Than YOU are nowf When you are dying,
and all your pride and wealth urs not
worth that" she continued, with a quick
anap Of her fingers 80 close TO his face
that he WINGED and drew back his head
with alacrity.
"You-you wretched womanl' cried
Mr. Culwick, Andlng brenth TO reply, aud
clutchlng the arms Of the chair with both
hands, and shaking them In his rage,
show dare you speak 10 met DO you
know that--that | have never been talk.
cd to In this way Ia my life--that this
ID an unwarrantable liberty from one in
your positionf"
II don't care for your position" cried
Lucy Jennings; 81 wouldn't change my
position for yours for twice your money
for hfty times all that you have honrd.
ed together. and hardened your soul with.
What are you but a selfish old sinner
who broke his wife's heart. and turned
an only son out Of doors, and who must
stand before his God AYE, sooner than
he thinks, perhaps" she added, with an
angry bang upon the table that shook
the whole house. and took Mr.. Jennings
downstairs with headi0ng plunge. un.
der the impression that his stock had ex.
ploded--'to answer for both crimes?"
Look here. shouted Simon Culwick,
Il have had enough. Of this
"Yon viii hear nue. out" said Lucy.
backing against the door with her chair.
as he rose from his seat; ''you have come
Of your own free will TO this house. where
no one is likely 10 be afraid Of you. You
arc here hoasting Of your want Of aff,c.
ton, Dragging Of the possibility of wound.
Ing one afresh whose life you have al.
ready darkened, and ! will tell you what
IL to become Of you hereafter
"iou are a fanatic You're raying
mad" said Simon Culwick. dropping into
his seat again.
II have no more TO say" she exclaim.
ed. "Now think of il. and do your duty,
as have done mine. before IL Is too late"
There was slamming Of the door. and
he opened his eyes 10 find thar his tor
mentor had gone. He rose at once. and
took his hat.
What horrible creature" he nut !
tered; II will not stop another moment"
lie was half way toward the door when |
the picture attracted his attention again. |
and he stopped. 1t was his ruling pas |
sion; success In business, present power, |
future happiness, were not upon his mind !
now in any great degree.
He went back TO the picture, and knit |
ted his brows at Il, as a man might do |
intently puzzled with problem of more
than ordinary difficulty; he took II to the |
window; he placed II ON the table, and |
hid himself In the curtain folds. behind |
the light to gaze Mt Il; he put his Int en- |
the floor, and sat down with the picture |
IN front of him, and began rubbing It |
carefully with the palm Of his hand; |
finally he thrust his hands into his pock- |
cts, and stared at II, forgetful of time
and place, and Of the main object of his |
visit. He was man possessed of one
idea.
There were feet ascending the stairs
now, lightly and springily. There was
a voice he should have recollected ms be. /
longing to old days. 1t was only when |
the handle turned sharply, and the door
opened, that he awoke to the conscious
ness of where he was, and what figure |
had come into the room from the world |
that was 80 different to his own.
Father" said Reuben Culwick, as he
advanced toward him. You have come
to see me, and am glad"
"You haven't much to be glad about
at present" replied the father; ~ was
In the neighborhood, and / thought that
would call and see where you were lodg-
Ing, and what you were doing. | haven't
come from Worcester expressly 10 see
you"
1T does not matter; pray don't apollo
gize," said Reuben lightly, as he took
his seat at the desk, opened it. and glanc-
ed carelessly at the letters and papers
which had arrived.
II have been thinking great deal
about you lately; you have bothered rue"
'Indeedw
"You came to Sedge Hill-sou were
the first to write to me--the first to make
advances And although calling on lne
only proved that you were as obstinate
as ever-that we should never get on"
he continued--"still accepted Il as an
apology. And it struck me that there
was some amount of respect for me lin
your heart, possibly some regret for all
that has parted us"
"You remember what we Guarreled
about?'
: Perfectly"
land" -
Eyes"
"That is the girl whom you saw at my
house last May"
Yes"
'Then," he said, after strange fight
Ing with his breath, "marry her now, and
III forget everything"
Reuben was prepared for many strange
reasons for his fathers presence in Hope
street, but this one took him completely
of his guard. He sat back and glared
at his father.
"You don't answer me-" said Simon
in his old sullen and aggrleved