Bonners Ferry herald. [volume] (Bonners Ferry, Idaho) 1904-current, 1905-12-23
CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VI.
Mary said nothing Her cousin David
was doubtless a great fool, but people
said unkind things about her uncles
conduct toward him.
If | had not secured his property,
some one else would. 1t is still In the
family, which ought to be a great COM
fort to him, wherever he has gone.
George Sidcote Is another-well he isn't
exactly a fosl, like David; but he doesn't
get on-he doesn't get on. l fear very
much"
Uncle, spare himr'
Because he wants to marry you,
ehildf Is that reason for interfering
with the course of business2 When the
pear Is ripe, 1t will drop!-if not into my
mouth, into some other mans. Business
before love, Mary"
III l could give my fortune, he would
be out Of his difficulties"
Your fortune, Mary? Where is 1t?
what fortune? You have none unless
you marry with my consent Your for
tune7 Why, 1t depends on me whether
you ever get il. l don't say that l shall
never consent Show me the right man
not spendthrift, Mary"
George Is no spsndthrift."
Nor man In debt"
III George * In debt, u Is not his
fault"
"A substantial man, and one who
knows the worth Of money; bring that
man along, and we will see. If not
well, Mary, / am getting on for seventy.
and l can't last forever, and perhaps
perhaps, say shall leave you MP
money when l die You can wait till
then. Six thousand pounds is a tremen-
dous big lump to part with, when a man
Is not obliged to part with It. And am
not obliged to give my consent No, no;
and after I've lost three thousand-three
thousand! Besides, your comfortable
nerei what do you want to marry fort
Whats the good Of marryingf Better
stay at home and save money I give you
your board and your lodging, Mary, while
you are here, for nothing; and your cloth
ing, too-yes, your clothing" He spoke
as II many young people had to 20 with
out.
Yes, know" She laughed thinking
bow much her uncle had given her for
dress In the last year or two. "Woll, un-
Gle, but II l do marry without your
consent you will have to give the money
to my cousin David"
Yes, yes; Of course. What's the good
Of telling me that? But David is dead.
no doubt, by this time, and then tho
money must remain with me- Of course.
But you won't do that. Mary; you'll
never be so wicked as to do that Be
sides, If you did, David's accounts with
me have never been made up, aud |
don't doubt that when we come to look
into them 1t will be found that he owes
me great deal still. was very soft
foolishly soft-with David"
Mary made no reply. Her uncle had
been. indeed, soft with David; SO soft
that he had sold him up and turned him
out, and now possessed his land.
Mr.. Leighsn sighed heavily, no doubt
over his foolish softness, and became
silent. 1t was not often that he talked
so much with his niece.
Six years before this, about half-past
nine one evening in the autumn Of the
year 1880, George Sidcote, walking home
found Mr.. Leighan lying In the middle OF
the road on Heytree Down. His pony
was grazing quietly beside him, and he
was lying on his back senseless, with an
ugly wound In his head, the scar OF
which would never leave him. He had
fallen, apparently, from his pony. Nc
susicion of violence or robbery was en-
tertainsdi first, because no one eveI
heard Of violence at Challacombe, and
secondly, because he had not apparently
been robbed. So, at least, II seemed tC
those who carried him home. for his pock
cts were full Of money, and his watch
and chain bad not been taAen.
For three days and three nights DAME
Leighan lay spescbIsss and senssless, ant
but for a faint pHlss he seemed dead
When be recovered consciousness, tn,
first cushions he asked were coneeruins
certain tin box containing papers which
he declared was hanging Ia bag from
his neck. Now Of that tin box no on,
knew anything. Presently, when h,
counted his money, he swore that he wal
twenty pounds short
Perhaps II was the agony of min,
caused by this loss perhaps the blow
upon his head, which caused the paraly
sis Of his legs. This afliction fell upoi
him a month or so after the accident
Then they put him in his chair besid
his table, and propped him up with pill
lows. and he went abroad no more. Blu
his brain was as clear as before, his vii
as strong. and his purpose as determined
CHAPTER VII.
When Mary had given her uncle hi
tea and cleared away the things" sh
left him to his papers and his pipe, too
, her hat and went Into the porch, wher
she stood for a moment dangling her ha
, by its strings and shading her eyes wit
her hand
Then. with little flush upon he
, cheek and a Frightening Of her eye, sh
passed through the garden to the bac
, OF the house where she knew GeorR
! sidcots waited to take her TO the choi
practice, for twas Saturday evening.
/ When Mary came through the garde
q he took both her hands in his, bent ov,
! her and kissed her Eravely on the for,