Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1907-09-13
By EFFTE a. ROWLANDS

And thus, despite Marshall's longing
to keep the helpless, hapless child, was
the matter arranged. Constance never
asked after her baby, and when she was
told by her faithful maid what had been
done with it, she made no sign, either
by word or look. The doctor who attend
cd hel had been taken into confidence by
Koderick, and he pitied the poor young
mother from the bottom of his heart, for
ne saw that a blow had been struck
which could never be healed.
constance was scarcely convaIescent
before she received a visit from her faith
er, who was in state of much perturba-
tion.
Knew how 1t would be-" he said, when
he first saw the girls white face. Boxed
up here with a dying old woman-enough
10 XIII you in reality. And who could
nave put this into the papers2 Anstruth-
er says 1t must have been some oficious
person In the village who thought you
were III, and must needs kill you"
Constance took the newspaper from her
fathers hand, and read the announce
ment Of her own death in a short para
graph. She was silent for a moment,
~.
with faint smile:
1t is a pity you have to contradict
It, father"
Ell! What nonsense! Now, Con, I
shant let You stop here any longer. l
never saw such a change in any girl |!
Pack up your trunks at once and come
away! Why, you look forty r.
How little did poor Constance think.
as she journeyed to London with her
father. that, at that very time Frank
Anstruther was reading the account of
her death, not only In a newspaper, but
in a loving, tenderly indited letter from
his brother Roderick, who had hit on this
idea of separating Frank from his wife
as being the best. If he had limited at
anything else, Frank would have rushed
back to England at once, but with Con-
stance dead and buried, what was there
to bring him back?
Roderick's shrewdness was verified
Frank never came home. And when the
London season was at its height, and
Constance Gascoigne was winning fresh
laurels for her beauty and wit, the news
arrived Of an outbreak of fever in Bur
nah, and Frank Anstruther's name was
among the dead. They called him a hero
they sent home accounts Of his courage
self-sacriice, and bravery, and Con.
stances heart turned with despairing
yearning agony to the man she had loved
SC well, and she longed to be buried with
him, shut out of the world forever. She
saw Roderick as little as she could, It
was from his lips that she learned of her
child's death; the woman who had taken
1t had reported always how delicate it
was, and the end, always expected, had
come at last.
Then 1t was that Roderick spoke; that
he showed himself in his colors. He
pleaded for her love; he told her how he
had adored her ever since their child
hoods days; how he had given place to
Frank against his longing, and entreat-
ed her to forget all and become his wife.
When he left her that day Roderick
knew his plan had failed come what
might, Constance would never be his wife.
To lend aid to his final coup be had lied
to her about her child. He knew that
1t lived, although II neglect and poverty
could have killed 1t the poor little thinR
had It's share. Stung to the quick with
the bitter words that came from Com
stances lips At his offering Of love, he
determined she should never be told the
truth. He had one interview with the
woman who had charge Of the child. and
after giving her a large sum Of money
and sworn her to secrecy, he went out OF
England, and was lost TO the world that
knew him forever. He had lived. for one
thing only during the space Of four years.
and when he knew he had lost his tri-
umph, be east the dust OF his shoes and
vanished.
Then came the time Of George Fraser's
wooing, the miserable hopeless time when
Constance learned that her hand was the
price Of silence over her fathers dig
honor and dishonesty. The rest we know
up to the day that Audrey came to Din
glowcod a. maid to Sheila Fraser.