Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1907-01-31
I THE CHARITY GIRL 1
By EFFgE a. ROWLANDS
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pride that had sprung into being early
in the evening, as she listened to the story
or her birth, seemed to have vanished
beneath this great sorrow.
The sun was shining high in the heav-
ems when she opened her eyes. and found
her mother bending anxiously over her.
Constance Fraser gained strength at sight
of her child's suffering She was now
the strong, courageous woman; she put
aside all her invalid ways, and rose su-
preme to the moment.
Look after her WE'LL she said to
Marshall, as she donned her outdoor gar
ments, and prepared to drive over to
Craiglands.
The duchess, proud, self-reliant, self
possessed as she was generally classed
to be. was after all only an ordinary
woman, with a mothers heart beating
quick and strong in her breast Her two
boys had been her darlings from the ear
lest days of their childhood she had new
er been so fond or so proud of her one
daughter, who was too much like her
father in nature and character to prove
comfort to the other parent
The tears came to the mothers eyes
the consolation and sympathy she could
think of. mentioned the countess name.
Il will stay with you till Gladys
comes,' she said, gently; Il am sure
there is much | can do"
GLADYS will not come" the duchess
answered, quietly enough; and then all
at once she broke down. "Oh, Con
stance, My dear! My dear!' she
moaned, what shall l do if | lose both
my boys? Duncan's days are numbered
I know it only too well-and Jack,
my bonny. my dear, good, noble Jack"
Then Constance knelt beside her and
cheered her again.
You are alarmed by this insensibility;
it is nothing; it often happens with con-
cussion of the brain. l prophesy that
in weeks time you will have Jack out
of bed, or very nearly so. Now I want
you to look at me; don't you see a change
ia my face? Yes, | see you do; shall l
tell you all about it?'
And then, as gently, as briefly as she
could, Constance barred the secrets of her
heart to her friend.
And you have found your child, Con-
stance? l am glad. l rejoice, my dear,
in your happiness. You must let me see
her soon. | shall love her for your sake
and for poor Franks; he was a great
favorite of mine"
Constance Fraser covered her face with
her hands. and when she drew them away
it was ashen white.
Hush ~ she said, almost inaudbly
do not let US speak of him. The pain
is too deep, too great. Such horrible re-
morse comes over me when l begin to
think, that | fear for my reason. |
know now I was deceived, that I doubted
him wrongly but-but that is all l dare
let myself know just yet, it makes my
heart bleed"
The duchess bent and kissed the sweet,
white face.
Have courage! Remember your
child ~ she whispered.
II do! l dor answered Constance,
brokenly. .'In her | must live again
God-mamma. l want you to promise to
befriend her. to stand by her always"
For your sake and for hers, l prom
Use this Constance she shall never want
friend while l am alive"
John Glendurwood's condition showed
no change. and although DIR. Sentance
declared he would pull his patient
through, he nevertheless felt much doubt
and anxiety as to his ultimate success.
ut is the mind that is keeping him
back" he declared over and over again
to Mrs. Fraser, and at last ventured to
express the same idea to the duchess
That very same evening as Constance
was dressing for dinner, carriage ar
rived from Craiglands with a hurried
message from the duchess.
Would Mrs. Fraser kindly drive over
as soon as possible-her grace wished to
see her particularly"
Audrey sat before the fire in her moth
er's room she was clad in a pretty little
white gown made in picturesque fashion,
and her hands already had lost the work
stains that had seemed so out of place on
them. She was scarcely conscious of
what was going on around her. The past
few days had sapped her strength, she
cared to do nothing, could do nothing but
|. sit and wonder how her beloved, her hero,
was. How little did she guess that, as
she sat there fearing. dreading every
fresh moment, that her lover was then
! speaking her name as Constance Fraser
bent over his bed.
He has called her so often" his moth
er whispered, with quivering lips "Oh.
Constance My dear, you will do as he
asks. 1t may be his last wish ~
Constance pressed her lips on the brow
above those eyes that, only a short time
ago had been laughing and sparkling
with life, happiness and manly vigor.
BE comforted," she said gently, for
was he not lying on the edge of that dark,
dread river? 1T shall be as you wish"
"And-Audrey wife-before-I
die?" the words were uttered so faint
they were scarcely audible.
And Audrey, my child, shall be your
wife at once, without delay"
A smile of joy radiated the poor young
fellows face: he tried TO clasp her hand,
to murmur thanks, but he could do moth
ing but lie there, helpless as a child in
his utter prostration.
CHAPTER Mi.
The following morning. before Con-
stance Fraser had had time to compose
her thoughts, and begin to prepare her
child for what lay before her, Sheila
came into the room.
Audrey was lying very quiet in her
little bed. and the other girl noticed, with
anger in her heart, how exquisitely love
ly was that pale young face, pillowed
among the delicate lace-edged linen and
Swallowed by the pink-lined curtains. 1t
made her even savage. in her jealous
hatred. TO notice what daintiness the
mother already gave to her new-found
child.
-
abruptly, that l am going to London