Troy weekly news. (Troy, Idaho) 1897-1933, 1905-12-01
CHAPTER XXI.

Mary went to plead with David for
her uncle. He was In the deserted farm
yard of Berry, with It's tumble-down
buildings. he leaned against the gate,
thinking always of the fields he had lost,
and the way In which they had been
taken from him. OF course his first
thought was to get out of her way.
Don't run away, David" she said;
81 came to talk with you"
"Well. come through the gate then,
Mary. Will you talk in the cottage, or
will you talk here2"
'Let us stay outside-here in the
shade, David. When will you cease to
worry your uncle?"
"Did he tell you that l worry him?
Has he been complainingw
mo. He even denies that you have
any share in the new trouble that seems
to have fallen upon him. But 1 know
that 1t Is caused by you. After every
one Of your morning visits he is miser-
able. Every day he grows more nervous
and more irritable He sheds tears when
he is alone. l am quite sure that you are
the cause of his trouble"
"Well, Mary, perhaps you are right
l may be the cause of it. Perhaps
may be the cause of a good deal more
trouble than l have done"
'Ohl David, think-he is an old man;
he is afflicted with paralysis; you are
Fastening his end. What good will it
do to you if you worry him into his
grave2 Will that restore the past? Will
that make you what you used to be?'
"Nay, that it will not do. But when
| see him at my mercy, crying for pity.
l think Of the day when l came to ask
him to lend me a poor fifty pounds, with
which to try my luck in Canada, and he
laughed me In the face"
well, then. David, does II do you
any good to remember that day? Let
the past be dead, David, and live for the
future"
"You don't know what you are saying
Mary. What should you know about it?
You are only a girl'-he spoke roughly
and rudely, but not unkindly-"what do
you know? Let the past be dead Why.
all the world is crying because the past
won't die. | only wish the past would
die Here. it seems to me, David hit
upon profound truth for very nearly
all the world-not qulte-it would be,
unhappily, far better If the past would
die. IF the past should die, Mary,
should forget that was once a substan-
tial man, who sat respected at the mar
ket ordinary, rode my own horse, and
farmed my own land. l should forget
that l had to go away from my native
place and take ship with the lowest emf
grants. 1 should forget-Mary," he
whispered, 81 can trust you-I have told
no one else-I should forget that l had
been in prison-yes, in prison"
"DavidP' She shrank from him, but
recovered, and laid her hand softly upon
his.
Yes; In prison. And now 1 am no
longer fit to sit and talk with George
and you But l am fit to talk with my
uncle because, bad as l am, he is worse
"But if he is. David, forgive him."
II will worry him." said David, "as
long as 1 can 1 will never spare him.
I've got another But never mind.
Oil when you are gone, Mary, he shall
have life that he little dreams Of nowp'
"Davidl 1t is terrible. Can nothing
move your
Nothing, Mary; not even you. And
mind you, don't try to put yourself be-
tween him and me, because he won't
stand it. 1t isn't me that won't stand it,
because don't greatly care who knows;
but it's him. He likes me to come; he
watches for me and waits for me,
though he knows that when I am gone
he will turn and wriggle In his chair,
and cry and curse. Yet he wants me
back Say no more about It, Mary"
1t was indeed useless to try further