Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1907-08-16


Ieve,y wish is gratified. My old anger
Iagainst you is dead. I am now your
friend, your brother. Would to heav-
en- that you had sent for me before!"
1.-The child! the child" gasped Gus
tave Laurent; "how shall we discover
the fate Of Lilian's child?"
Leave that to me-" said Lispenard.
81 must have time to think, and you
are too weak to agitate yourself fur
ther."
Look inside the wallet" pleaded
Laurent; read the names of the ship
and the captain-they may be known
to YOU"
Lispenard obeyed, then shook his
head.
mo, l never heard Of either. Be
calm. Your child, if it still lives, is
Lilian's heir Trust the whole matter
to me. Tomorrow I will come to you
again"
He left Laurent sobbing like a wom-
an, and drove away from st. Mar
garet's.
AS the carriage turned into Wash
ington street and approached the vi
cinity of the theatres, jam of cars
and vehicles brought the horses to
walk. An elegant coupe passed, then
halted abruptly; light fingers tapped
the glass door and beckoned, imperi-
ously. Lispenard knew that he was
recognized. With becoming resigna-
ton he alighted from his own vehicle
and paused on the curbstone, against
which the coupe had stopped.
"Oh, am SO glad-so glad to see you
again." cried Nina Berkely, extending
little, trembling hand.
| She sat inside the carriage, with
cloak of silver fox-fur covering her
magnificent evening dress, great light
flaming in her brunette face, her eyes
dewy, her lips quivering eloquently.
Surely, Mr.. Lispenard, you are COM
ing to town this winter?" she faltered;
I'VE miss you very. very much"
NO" he answered; Il shall remain
at the Dale"
shut up, like an OWL in your tower?
Fie! Society seems very dull just
now-hollow, insufficient. Come back
to us! Can nothing lure you from
your retreat?"
Here was a woman who had loved
him long and hopelessly, one to whom
his deformity was beauty-a woman
who was constantly beseeching his at
| MI
handsome, well-bred. Could he ask or
hope for more than this? She loved
him for himself alone, not for his mon
ey or position. He had only to hold
out his hand, and she was ready to
enter into his lonely, loveless life, and
enrich it with her womanly grace and
tenderness. And knowing all this,
Abel Lispenard stood there in the
lighted street, and, looking straight In
her dewy imploring eyes, answered,
with pitiless coldness:
mo, nothing"
"Oh, 1 know what it is that keeps
you at the Dale, Abel Lispenard," she
half sobbed. in a voice full Of jealous
passion; ut is that girl Mignon!"
Good night, Miss Berkely," said
Lispenard, lifting his hat. Then he
climbed to his own carriage, gave the
order to drive on, and, sinking back
among the cushions, covered his face
with his hands.
The coachman drove back to the
Dale. His dogs, at least, were there to
bark loving welcome. Before enter
ing the tower, Lispenard stood under
the gloomy evening sky. and looked
turns to give a last look Of deep hon.
age to the shrine Of his worship.
Then he went into the house.
Lispenard had been greatly agitated
in the last few hours. Now the SOL
itary silence of his drawing-room op-
pressed him heavily. The log fire
swapping under the oak mantel. shone
on the placques of Kashee ware, and
the vases wrought in open designs OF
brass that filled a niche in the oak.
Lispenard sat down with his feet In
a Kurdistan rug, and his great should
ers outlined against a splendid piece
of Florentine embroidery that was
carelessy flung upon the carved back
of his chair. He looked pale and
worn and unspeakably detected. Even
his grand piano could not charm him
tonight.
"I know what is keeping you at the
Dale: it is that girl Mignon!"
Nina Berkely's jealous words still
sounded in his ears, and sent the blood
plunging in great painful throbs
through his heart. Alas! his miserable
secret was not his own. To be near
her. to breathe the same air that she
breathed, to look at the spot where she
ldwelt, to catch far-off glimpses of her
though he no longer dared to trust
himself in her presence, others beside
himself knew that these things now
constituted the sum total Of Abel Lis
penard's earthly happiness.
a French clock on the mantel tick
ed the moments away. A burned
brand fell, with a thud, to the hearth.
As he sat in deep thought, with gaze
fixed on the fire, a velvet portiere
near him was pushed suddenly back,
and there. on his threshold-could he
believe his own eyes-like a bird blown
in by some fierce tempest. stood Mig
non herself. colorless as If in great
distress yellow hair in disorder brown
avac flad with terror and diSmay
Yes. Mignon there, at that hour, and
all alone.
Lispenard started to his feet. An
involuntary cry broke from his lips.
YOU"
She came straight into the room,
lbreathleSs as hunted creature.
"Oh. Mr.. Lispenard, save mel" she