The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1907-11-07

Nothing wrong, 1 trust" she said.
in faint voice hoping to gain time.
oh, but it is wrong, terribly wrong,
and l believe you will not mind ex-
planning the matter to me- he went
on in a very kind voice. I told the
madam it would be all right, that my
little girl never deceived me in her
life, and she would not begin at this
age. Is it some girlish frolic or Sc
cret? Was it a little harmless adven-
ture? You know, Margaret, how fully
l trust you. You have ever been a
loving, dutiful child"
She looked up into his face, that
face so grave and sorrowful, so noble
in outline, so trustful and fatherly.
"Oh, uncle" she had been all her
life used to call him uncle, please
don't ask me-" she said, with piteous
accents. Indeed, l have done moth
ing wrong, but l cannot tell, even
you"
my dear!' he exclaimed, with mild
surprise. Then what shall l say to
the madam? She insists upon an ex-
PLANTATION. You see, it touches the
honor of her school, which is every
thing to her She is very Indignant
and indeed, you defed her authority
in breaking the rules. 1 have no ex-
cuse to offer, unless you give me one.
Come, you owe something to her"
Indeed, uncle, l am so sorry" said
Margaret, earnestly, the tears raining
from her eyes, which were now softly
luminous. But you must trust me
if she does not. Please don't insist
upon my telling you, for-I-cannot.
She had come forward and taken
one Of his hands in both of hers. Now
she bent her head upon it, sobbing.
His heart was full of pity for her, but
he was at the same time astonished
and little indignant. How could he
distrust her? Still, what could he say
to the madam, who had every reason
to receive her confidence?
Then, l am not to be answered."
he asked, more sternly than he had
ever spoken before.
"Oh, uncle, won't you forgive me-
and trust me? | cannot tell you,
cannot" was the sobbing reply.
Very well" he returned coldly, and
resumed the reading of his newspaper
with a panied face.
Uncle! you do believe in me! You
do trust mel" she said, frightened at
mis- cold, constrained manner.
Il do not know what to think, what
to believe was his answer Il must
have time to think. You can go to
your room"
Almost brOken-hearted, Margaret
returned to her room and threw her
self on the bed in an agony of grief.
That evening the professor of math-
ematics sat in his room brooding over
the events of the day. He had not
seen Margaret since he bad ordered
her TO her room in a manner so diff
ferent from his usual loving solici-
tude, and his heart ached for her Her
father had been his dearest friend,
and he loved the child VINO was that
friends living image
Il dare say it is all right, he said,
signing YEARLY, but it looks all
wrong, only
Just then the door burst open, and
a haggard face, with wild, restless
dark eyes, tangled hair and a glare
as of maniacy, looked in upon him.
The professor put up both hands,
as if warding off a blow, and groan-
ing, staggered backward and fell into
a chair His face lost all color, his
body all motion. He could only stare
helplessly while his breath came
/ shorter and harder.
Why father, you're not glad to see
me, are you? I'm not exactly a pleas
ant sight, eh?"
"You-are-not," said the profes-
sor, the words seeming to be jerked
from his lips by some inward force,
not because he wanted to speak, and
he shook his head like a man in de-
spair.
! But | had to come
The man could not have been much
! over % or % but his face was marked
| by deeply cut lines of dissipation, and
his manner was reckless to defiance.
q have come here to tell you some
thing, something for which you will
hate and despise me, and which"
Don't, Tom, for Gods sake, don't,
and the professor put up both hands
again. Haven't you broken hearts
enough? Your poor mother"
Stop father" said the young man,
with almost a sob, don't say l broke
her heart, or l will kill myself, be,
fore you"
He deliberately took a pistol from
his pocket and placed it ON the table
Il don't know but | shall, anyhow"
His father half sprang from his
chair Sit still, father" said his
son, in firm, hard tones. I'm not go.
ing to harm you. l wouldn't touch a
hair of your head, God knows, but |
want to tell you all my miserable
story I've been bad enough, Heaven
knows, but l never blamed you for
disowning me. I've tried to keep hon.
est all financial transactions, till now
! | haven't even cheated at cards. But
| the other day stole some money
! yes, stole it, and it's known to one
or two of the fellows How long they