Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1906-08-21

of the banks cancellation. Out Of the
window and beyond she saw James
leading the horses to the watering
trough. Her face suddenly grew
crimson with shame, and as suddenly
as 1t came the color faded She folded
the note and absently tucked it into the
bosom of her dress. Then, as if
struck by some strange thought, her
figure grew tense and rigid against the
blue background Of the sky. The glow
| which stole over her features this time
had no shame i'll it, and her eyes shone
like the waters of sunlit seas. 1t must
never be; no 1t must never be-
we shall make inquiries at the
bank" she said. And do not be down
cast, father, the worst is over What
mistakes you have made are forgotten.
The future looks bright to me-"
Through innocent young eyes the
| future is ever bright, but as we age
we find most of the sunshine on either
side, and we stand in the shadow be-
tween. Brave heart, l glory in your
courage. God will provide for you; He
will not let my shadow fall on you.
Yours shall be the joy of living, mine
shall be the pain. God bless you!
wonder how l shall ever meet your
mothers accusing eyes?"
Father, you must not dwell upon
this any longer; for my sake you
must not. When everything is pail
there will be little left, enough till I
and my violin find something to do,
After all, the worlds applause must
| be fine thing. | can even now see
| the criticisms in the great newspapers.
| "A former young society woman, we'll
known in the fashionable circles Of
Washington, made her debut as con-
cert player last night. She is a stun
ming young person. "A young queen
Of the diplomatic circles, here and
abroad, appeared in public as violin
list last night She is member OF the
most exclusive sets, and society was
out to do her homage One Of Wash
| ingtons brilliant young horsewomen,
and so forth. Away down at the bot
| tom of the column, somewhere, they
will add that I play the violin rather
we'll for an amateur" In all her trial,
| this was the one bitter expression, and
she was sorry for it the moment it
escaped her.
Happily her father was not listening.
He was wholly absorbed in the mystery
of the Cancelled note.
She had mounted Jane and was gath
ering up the reins, while NJames
strapped on the saddle-hamper. This
done. he climbed into the saddle and
signifed by touching his cap that all
was ready So they rode forth in ths
sweet freshness of that November at
tenoon. A steady wind was blowing
the compact white clouds sailed swift
| ly across the brilliant heavens, the
leaves whispered and fluttered, hithe1
and thither. wherever the wind listed:
it was the day OF days. 1t was the last
ride, and fate owed them the compen-
sation Of beautiful afternoon.
The last ride! Warburton's mouth
dropped Never again to ride with her!
| How the thought frightened his heart!
| What tug it was going to be to give
her up! But so it must be. He could
never face her gratitude. He must
disappear. like the good fairies in the
story-books. If he left now, and she
| found out what he had done, she would
| always think kindly Of him, even ten
Derby At twilight, when she took out
her violin and played soft measures
| perhaps a thought or two would be
! given to him. After what had hap
pened-this contemplate masquerade
ing and the crisis through which he1
father had just passed-it would be
impossible for her to love him. She
would always regard him with sus-
| picion, as a witness of her innocent
| shame.
He recalled the two wooden plates
in the hamper. Whom was she going
to meet? All, we'll, what mattered it:
After to-day the abyss Of eternity
loved her! How he adored the ex'
quisite profile, the warm tinted skin
the shining hair! /. And he hat
lost her! All, that last ride!
The girl was holding her head higf
because her heart was full. No more
to ride on bright morning, with the
wind rushing past her, bringing the
odor of the grasses, Of the flowers, o
the earth to tingle her nostrils; M
more to follow the hounds on a win
ter's day, with the pack baying beyond
the hedges, the gay. relocated rider!
sweeping down the field; no more t.
wander through the halls of her moth
er's birthplace and her own! Like /:
breath on mirror, all was gone. Why
What had she done to be flung dow1
ruthlessly? She, who had been brough
up in idleness and luxury, must turf
her hands to a living! Without being
worldly, she knew the world. One
she appeared upon the stage, she woult
lose caste among her kind. True, the!
would tolerate her, but no longe
would her voice be heard or her wore
| hava Uaiobt