The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1907-03-21

haps, In some sick chamber-seemed
| to bid scant defiance to the coming
day, and crave that the night might be
longer. But there was no sign of life
anywhere else; the village might have
been a place of the dead for all the
life there was about 1t.
At a certain point on the road her
steady resolution seemed to falter; she
| hesitated, walked more slowly, and
finally stopped altogether; as though
she made little circles in the dust
| with one foot, while she stood, looking
frowningly at the ground and biting
her red lips. At last the difficulty
| whatever It was-seemed to have
solved itself; she turned from the
road and struck of by a side path in
the direction of the house known az
The Cottage.
What instinct had guided her there
It would be impossible to say, but the
object OF her search, early as the hour
was, was in the garden, sitting on a
rustic seat out of view OF the windows
Of the house, and with her face hidden
in her hands. Hearing the light sweep
OF the girls dress Cd the grass she
rose hurriedly, and disclosed the figure
Of Madge Barnshaw.
For a moment the two faced each
other in silence: the one vexed and
ashamed at being discovered in such
an attitude, the other with something
OF defiance about her, mixed with a
desperate and growing anxiety. In
some Understandable fashion, each
seemed to know the subject of the
others thoughts, and to be jealous OF
those thoughts, eachs in a different
way.
But the one woman would have
died sooner than acknowledge any
emotion or sorrow to the other; the
other was proud of her emotion-open-
ly Haunted it, as 1t were; and would
have been glad to think that one mans
name was branded upon her forehead
almost. that all might read her secret.
'Ts anything the matter?" asked
Madge, rising to her feet and confront
ing the other.
Dear heaven!" cried Clara, in a
sort OF harsh whisper. Can you stand
there and look at me and ask that?
Can you know that a man is as good
as dying-dying by inches with every
moment that we live-and ask me
that"
II don't understand" said Madge,
in a low voice. More than all, can
not see why you are troubling your
self about"
Clara Siggs had turned away impa-
tiently; she flung round now and came
a: the other woman, with her hands
held clenched close to her sides, and
her teeth close clenched also. You
don't understand! You Znnot see
why | should be troubling about him!
am an innkeeper's daughter-only a
common girl, at the least; you are a
great lady. They say you were to
marry him: will you cast him away
now, when he lies in prison, in shame
and misery. and with death drawing
nearer every day? Is your love for
him so great that it is something to be
changed by what men may say of
him."
Some curious shame-some strange
stirring of admiration for this wild, I'M
tutored child-crept over Madge Barn
shaw. She saw, In this girl, something
stronger and more purposeful than
herseIf-the wild and desperate cour-
age which might override all obsta-
Giles, which might snap fingers at
death itself, for the sake of one mans
life She went nearer to the girl and
held out her hands to her.
"Tell me-help mel" she whispered.
"Show me what I should do"
With that direct appeal all poor
CIara's heroism went to the winds;
she could only cover her face with her
hands and weep, and shake her head
and declare how helpless she was. She
could have met defiance with defiance
pride with pride; but the sudden
tenderness of the other woman was
too much for her, and she broke down
at once whatever barrier she had de-
termined to build up between them.
ITO Be Continued.)