Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1905-03-20

u chair.
ITS time played my last card" she
was saying Il tell you thars some
mistake. l don't believe Lydia Gran
ston would let that pore boy lie up
stairs an suffer without one word from /
her at sech a time-a time when the |
whole town an county is a-talkin'
about his manliness an bravery an |
the wrong done his daddy That hain't |
like woman one bit. Not one woman |
In ten thousand would stay quiet at |
such time without some strong rea- |
SON."
well, what are you goin' to do about |
it?' the merchant asked.
DO? Why, I've got my case all In |
hand. as Mr. Trabue would "a said. |
The evidence is all in, an it will have
weight when l sum it up. I'm simply
a-goin' to them weevil eaten aristo-
Gratis an have 1t out with 'em, one way
or t'other."
you say you are?'
Eyes, l am. / know human natur,
an I'm not afeard TO risk my judg-
ment. I'm a-goin' to take that letter
George writ to you the night he was
| shot-oh. yes, am; you needn't raise
kick about that 1t is admitted as evil
dence, an strong evidence at that.
| Then I'm a-goin' to tell 'em what me n
| you have agreed on. That is my trump
| card. It'll knock out anything they
hold; now you see eff it don't. I'm
| goin' to give them a-talkin' to that they
| won't forget soon, an I'll do it right,
too. fer l don't expect to tell anything
out the truth. Eff Lydia Cranston has
engaged 'erself to that stuck up bump
on rotten log, she'll have the satisfac-
i ton o. KNOWN that thar's one woman
in the land that knows whar she's driv
Ter ducks
Hillyer rose, with smile. "Well,
maybe you kin sorter bring EN- to Their
senses, an l say go it. l lost control
O. myself t'Other day an give the old
major a piece O. my mind, an he
mought as well git tother half from
you | wish you luck Eff you fail, it
will be about the fust time you've
missed fire since I've knowed you. |
reckon it won't kill i'm Mrs. Dugan
says the New York doctor found i'm
as sound as a dollar"
About 10 o'clock Mrs. Hillyer went
down to Cranstons'. She was attlred
in her best black silk gown and flow
cred bonnet, and she walked with a
firm, decided tread. She was invited
by the maidservant at the door into
the sitting room, where Cranston sat
before an open window, looking out
into the balmy spring sunshine. His
wife was near him, and Lydia had just
come in with a glass of claret punch
| and stood stirring it at his side. They
all greeted her pleasantly, and Lydia
seemed somewhat surprised at the un-
, expected visit, for it occurred to her
; quick powers of observation that
, while George Buckley lay i'll at the
| Hillyers' and right upon the news OF
his fathers death and public exonera
t ton, call from Mrs. Hillyer was, to
say the least, extraordinary. So Lyd
D las face became rigidly expectant az
. she seated herself and endeavored tt
S participate calmly in the platitude'
n that her mother, with her usual tact
q managed to set going.
81 was powerful glad to hear" sale
Mrs. Hillyer to the major, that thu
7. New York specialist made Favorable
t report on yore case"
II Eyes; he took quite load OF WORT!
8 off my mind, thank you, madam.
T. The major always addressed ladies
madam" whom he did not speclall.
n like. It was a way he had OF Leaving
d the immersion that he might or m1gh
u not remember their names In III
IS same way he frequently greeleo Gel
ie tain men whom he considered Deheat
him socially with vague "Ho"
10 you do. sir?" However, his forma1t
Ill of speech today had little effect on til
I! visitor. If he had called her by ne
Is given name, without prefix, she woul
w not have spoken what was on her min
:, any sooner.
u "Thar's no use beatin' the dev
al around a bush, folkses," she bega
Is lightly. eve come here this mornil
~ to do my duty as l see it. an l hahn
~ a-goin' to waste time. The good boo
~ says do unto others as you'd have the
III do unto YOU. an eff 1 was actin
ne wrong as you uns are I'd want folks
III tell me of it. I'd want 'em to Telegram
- eff they couldn't git to me right away
ny The Cranstons were all staring fxe
-. ly. The warm color was rising
-, Lydia's face.
=. - "Why, what's wrong. MADAME" ask
"a the major in establishment.
- Its all about yore daughter he
e. an George Buckley" Mrs. Hilly
blurted out with frmness. Them tv
~ hain't bein' treated right. 1t may see
80 like I'm takin lots fer granted
- includin' her, but she don't look to I
49, like a fool, an any woman would
a fool sto be adored by a man Ii
- she is by George Buckley an not wa
70 treat i'm with common decency."
Lydia started to speak as she DIRT