The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1906-08-02

ing further or them was known.
So Evelyn had come to London to
save the man she loved, if her new in
dependence and her love might save
him. She cared no longer that her
father should know of this determine
ton; for she doubted both his will to
help her and the honesty Of the declara-
ton that he would do 80. In truth,
Robert Forester had been unable to
give battle to those forces which the
years and his own youth had ragged
against him. To one who had loved the
Wild life of an adventurer, who had
sown tares in many lands, the harvest
time of age could support nopretentious
dignity nor long maintain those great
or ambitions which had momentarily
attended his succession to the earidom.
He sank beneath the mental burdens;
still have been in his prime; could utter
but a senile assent to every rogue, who
tricked him. Deep down in his heart
lay hunger for the old life. An evil
eynicism laughed at the restraints
which place and power put upon him:
"Better night on the hills with
zal!eny,, he could tell himself, " 1t an
cial fatuity." It would have been so
easy for him had Evelyn married
Georges Odin's son. What it might
have meant to her he had hardly con-
sidered.
And yet possibly his love for Evelyn
was the truest emotion Of his life.
When her letter reached him and he
the blow fell with stunning force
which seemed to shatter every remain
ing idol of his life. His beloved daugh-
ter! The mistress of his house! Caper-
ing about upon stage for the guineas
of a man he,, Robert Forester, could
49, k-A n
was debacle beyond any he had i'm
agined. The humiliation of it, the
cruelty Of it-more than that, the NAL
ice Of her destiny! Was she not Dora
d Istran's daughter, and had not this
blood Of rebellion run in her veins
since her childhood What else could
he have looked for, he asked himself
and in the same breath he set
the logic Of it aside and sat down to
write to her. $500 40.
It was a pitiful letter, full of the
tenderest expressions and the bitterest
reproach. -. =. r. +.
do you owe nothing to my name?" he asked
his love for her. "I am an old man and anu
alone and must look to the newspapers for
news Of the daughter who is all to me. Is
this fame 50 much above a fathers affection,
home no longer because Of it, The people say
you are great actress; some day you will
ask yourself, Evelyn, II II was worth Delne
that to wound one who has had greater
desire than the happiness Of his only child
just in such strain had he delivered
himself at home, and, now as then, the
| words earned but a cold response
"There is some secret of my father 3
life which is hidden from me-" Evelyr
said What it could be, why it should
affect her, she knew not. When he
| spoke of his failing health, the letter
found her more sympathetic. She
would have gone to him at any cost
had she understood that he was really
i'll; but the general terms he uset
seemed to imply no immediate neces
gity and was there not GaviI
to be considered9
Indeed, this priceless gift of low
now Influenced every act and deed o.
her life. She counted the hours which
should bring her news of Gavin, wor
shipped her own image of him upo,
! the stage at night; wrestled unceasfng
ly with the voices which would speal
Of the Eta Romney that had been
the child Of passionate dreamings an,
of an eastern heritage no longer.
And her prayer was this, for Gavin
safety and her own salvation in hi
love.