The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1907-06-26
CHAPTER XIV.
Continued.

Continued.
Eyes," he said, they are just what
l expected, only stronger. He calls
Heaven to witness to his prudent in
tentions. 1 wonder that didn't ex-
cite your suspicious"
But if it comes to trial, 1rton,
and these letters are read in court?
They will surely damn him"
Damn him? yes" said the lawyer,
with some JUNCTION. But what will
he arr for that? When a mar takes
a step Of this kind, do you suppose
that he not long ago parted with the
last rag of self-respect?"
AT least, he must acknowledge
the debt, however"
"You may sue him, of course, for
the money you have lent him; but
you may be very sure that he has net
one penny he can call his own. l
have not the slightest doubt he is in
debt up to his eyes, and that there is
a bill of sale out for his furniture.
This is the last throw of the ruined
gambler; and I am afraid, sir" added
the lawyer, with great gravity, he
must need win his stakes"
The canon's face grew very pale.
do you mean to say that I shall
have to refund the money which this
mar has so urgently pressed me 20
advance to him-the whole fifteen
thousand pounds"
Il very much regret to say, sir,
that, in my opinion, you will find
yourself liable for the whole
amount"
Then I am a ruined man, said
the canon bitterly.
Triton walked to the window. The
leaAess trees and that cold river
formed a scene which, in its desola-
ton, was in too much harmony with
his reflections. It was terrible to
think that a man like the canon
should be thus stripped of e in
his old age by this %ungrateful hand.
He strove to shut out what his COM
panion was unconsciously calculating
in a tone that would have wrung a
harder heart than his. my poor
dear Robert, your fathers folly has
ruined your life. My dear Maria,
your brother has brought your old
age to poverty. And Sophy, poor
little Sophy, whom we used to love
so-how it will wiring your heart
when you learn what you have done"
A week has passed, u%neventfully,
so far as action is concerned, but
bringing great changes with it. Fig
uratively, the canon has bowed his
head to the inevitable; but, to all
outward seeming, he holds it gallant
ly. There are more gray hairs on it
than there we're; to those who be-
hold them and know the reason of
their presence it is only more revered
on that account. He has told Aunt
Maria all, but has looked in vain for
the indignant reprobation that was
his due.
81 have been your ruin," he had
added; my blind confidence and folly
have brought me from competence to
poNCl ~, dho uoNC vi o5SSO sOu oo"u
with me. We must exchange our
pleasant home for one of a very diff
ferent kind. You will have to pinch
and spare, to cut and contrive, to
exc out our narrowed means. At a
time of life when you are least fitted
for such a change you will have to
occupy yourself with sordid cares;
and for all this you will have to
thank your natural protector-as you
imagined m to be-myself."
Her fingers had trembled a little
as she had listened to him, but she
answered nothing till he had quite
done. Then she rose and kissed him
on both cheeks.
My dear brother" she said softly,
what you have said is very true, ex-
cept the last few words. I have to
thank you, it is true, for very much;
for a life of ease, of too much ease,
perhaps-the very breath of heaven
has not been suffered to visit my
cheek too roughly; for a brothers
unselfsh devotion, for afectionate
forbearance and solicitude-but not
for this. Your goodness and gener-
osity have been imposed upon, it is
true; but that is not your fault, but
another's villainy. For what has
happened I thank Mr.. John Adair
alone-not you, dear. One can
scarcely say" (here she smiled a
smile as sweet as that of the maiden
who murmurs Yes" to her first
loye)S that we have climbed the hill
together, because the ascent has been
accomplished-with your money, for
/ never had any-in a chariot with
C-springs; but we have always sat
side by side, and now we shall de-
scend it hand in hand. What does
it matter, dear, since We shall soon
come to our journeys end, whether
we travel On foot or not?"
CHAPTER XVI.
The Witness.
Man is a selfish animal, but, in