Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1906-08-30
Continued.


with sudden ierceness. Then hi
paced up and down the room. Sud
denly he pulled up.
'And old Marsden-where is he?"
Poor old Marsden has gone up u
London with Edward Young, aftel
that wicked girl who isn't worth theii
trouble. Oh, Mr.. Cyril, let then
have her back; she amt worthy tt
clean your boots!"
"Silence!" said Cyril, sternly. Then
he turned to her: Look at me in the
face Now" as Mrs. Tibet raised
her red, swollen eyes. edo you think
me capable of this thing?"
"N-no," breathed Mrs. Tibbett;
but"
"But-what?"
Everybody does, Mr.. Cyril; and
look at the facts and circumstances.
Everybody echoed Cyril. do you
mean that Miss Dale considers me
guilty?"
His voice was so stern and hard
that Mrs. Tibebtt was almost afraid
to answer.
Yes, she does" she said at last.
How could she help it?"
Cyril turned away and put his hand
up to his face. When he looked
around again, Mrs. Tibet was
startled 10 see how pale 1t had grown,
and how the news of Leola's belief in
his guilt had stricken him.
HEJnxu aptI1d che holm ft 2p rnpaaf od
Mrs. Tibet. "She hadn't seen you
and heard you talk as you've done to
me-" she added, naively.
And she believed it," murmured
Cyril. "Shel"
Then he caught up his hat, but
fro uncertainty.
And Lord Beaumont-did he be-
lieve that | had run away with this
girl?"
Mrs. Tibet shook her head, sadly.
How could he do otherwise? They
say he ouarreled with Mr.. Dyce about
1t, standing up for you through thick
and thin, until old Marsden came with
the letter from the girl"
$50, sol" said Cyril; ,"and he be-
lieved II! Truly man may live
amongst you for months, and gain no
hold upon your trust!"
Then he took up his hat.
stop and have something to eat,
Mr.. Cyril" pleaded Mrs. Tibbett
you look so pale and tired"
Il am going to the Abbey at once"
said Cyril.
TITS no use-not yet, at least, "
said Mrs. Tibet. who had not told
him all the truth. and was afraid to.
Il am going to the Abbey" said
Cyril, sternly, and walked out of the
house.
He noticed, absently. that the peo-
pie he passed, stared at him, even
his own laborers; and one or two
muttered Polly Marsden's name at a
safe distance. but they did not trouble
Cyril-all his thoughts were of Leola
Full of grief and bitterness of soul
he strobe on with downcast head.
He could have borne all and smiled
at everything IL she had been true
and stanch.
But that she should have believed
the tissue Of lies which had been so
ingeniously weaved, struck him to the
heart.
He felt, besides, bewildered by the
tangled web which had chung round
him and impeded his progress.
There had been deceit and forgery
somewhere. Who was the prime
mover in the plot?
Who else could 1t be but Philip
Dyce?
But these were secondary thoughts
--Leola stood first.
He walked up to the terrace-one
OF the servants, coachman. passed
him, but instead OF touching his hat
took not the slightest notice-and
rang the hall bell.
The porter opened 1t and nodded
grimly at the sight of Cyril
The man did not look surprised.
because the news of Cyri's return
had spread through The village. and
been carried to the Abbey, long be-
fore this,
"Good-morning Simmonds," said
Cyril, about to walk into the hall
But Simmonds stepped in front of
him.
Beg pardon, Mr.. Kingsley" he
said, my orders are not to admit
you TO the Abbey"
indeed" said Cyril, turning white,
but biting his lip to keep himself
calm. May | ask who gave you that
order, Simmonds?"
The mistress herself, Mr.. Kings.
ley" said the man, grimly.
rs Miss Dale at homer" said
Cyril, his lip trembling in spite OF
himself.
Yes. she is, but you cannot see
her. She's TOO III to see anyone at
all. and II she wasn't"
He paused, but the pause was sig
nificant.
will Mrs. wetherell see me?'
asked Cyril.
No. Mr.. Kingsley" said the man