Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1908-10-13
Hidden
Perils
BY MARY CECIL HAY
CHAPTER III.-(Continued.) }


place, feeling how true it lis that f
prophet is without honor in his own
country But his mothers clinging love
for the old home always kept him there,
and he would again make up his mind
such a hard thing to do when much ana
varied advice is offered and love and IN
terest pull different ways-to work on as
steadily and hopefully as he could build
ing his hope On the homely proverb, GOD
helps those who help themselves.
II he had had warm and sympathizfng
hearts about him in his home this would
have been far easier; but it was not so.
His mother. gentle and loving though she
was, fretted a good deal in her quiet pa
&fent manner for the luxuries which had
been within her reach until the last few
years. and doubly regretted them for her
daughter.
There are so many things to which
Lucflla has been accustomed, and which
she must miss sorely now" she would say
II have always feared / should not rear
her. fear it doubly now"
At This Athol would smile, for there
was not any pressing cause of fear IN
that direction, and he would say, in his
pleasant way, that Lucilha always looked
well. But he felt the stab, nevertheless
as keenly as if he had resented it. Then
Lucilla's own grievance would start up.
"AthoI, if you had any spirit you would
take a handsome, imposing house and set
up your carriage. If we all went about
as if we were grand and rich, you would
soon have a crowd of patients besieging
your door,
'Or a crowd of duns," AthOl would
answer, smiling. mo, let US pay our
way as we 90, whatever we do, or we
shall never know where our difficulties
stop"
That's intended as a hint for me, l
know" she would answer, carelessly, 'be-
cause l have a few necessary bills. |
wonder who could help that, having as
little money as have"
Are you in debt now, Lucyi Would
you like little money!"
81 should like little money" would
be the light answer to the earnest ques-
ton; "but of course must be in debt"
And this was an old story now, and
Lucila never thought where it might end.
II think, Athol," his mother would
say, with rather doubtful thoughtful
ness you must marry; a married doctor
always succeeds better than a single one,
and we could all live here together. l
could not leave the cottage now, nor part
from you, dear"
She was looking into his thoughtful,
delicate face, and invOluntarily a wish
rose to her lips.
"Ah. my dear l would give anything
II you were as healthy and strong look
In as Rourke Trenham."
Alhol rose with a laugh that hid all
thought You might just as well wish
] were as rich, and as-as free from care,
my mother 4"
And, short sighted in her love, she
wished that, too.
Just as Athol rose from his seat and
turned with his back to the fire, his sis
ter entered the room. We have said
that Lucilla We're was nearly thirty, but
she did not look that by five or six
years. when she came in then, dressed to
dine at the PriOry.
Whether she would look FIVE or six
years older in the morning, when the
false color was gone and the pitiless day
light laid bare all trickery, need not be
proved. Lucilla looked, as she herself
called it, effective" Her transparent
white dress was made and trimmed, not
{ flowing bliudly the fashion of the day,
but just as it should best show off to
advantage her figure and complexion;
AMI in this Lucilla betrayed her skill in
the very primary branch of a woman's
toilet. But when that is said we can add
no more; we can only remember in her
4bak do Col bor frOp
her, and was anxious to use every power
rhc possessed to hold it back. Perhaps if
she had let it go, and followed it with
bright and modest steps, her face might
have been ever more than pleasant to look
upon: but it was far less so now. by
reason of the effort she made to hang
out still the ensigns of her lost youth.
and by reason too of the hunger within
her eyes for something which life had
not given her.
just then the tea was brought in, and
Lucilla poured herself out a cup as she
stood-it would never have done to crease
the dress before starting.
Now, Athol, you must preside, and
help yourself and mamma" she said as
she finished I'm sorry not to have had
time to do it. / hope you won't want
anything while Sarah is walking with
me. l will send her quickly back. Good
by"
Mrs. Vere's eyes proudly followed her
daughters receding form.
"Athol," she said, simply. when they
were alone, what a nice thing it would
be il Howard Gaveston should take a
fancy to Lucy! She would make n suit
~ =
sure to marry and then he will want a
lady in his house."
Mr. Gaveston has a daughter besides
Una" said Athol, as he began to butter
his mothers toast, too listless or too
tired, apparently, to enjoy the meal now
1t was before him.
Yes. but l do not fancy she will ever
live at home. He seems 10 have dis
like to the child"
"Or it serves his purpose to keep her
at Hampton House until his sister dies,
and her will is read
II fear she is not happy there. Athol"
But Athol was cutting the toast. and
perhaps did not hear this question.
You will read TO me after tea, won't
you. dearr she asked. when he had
brought her tea to the little table beside
her chair. Il wish Sarah could have
stayed at home TO wait on you," she add
ed, when he had answered her; I'm sure
you ought TO have had something cooked
for your tea, to be warm and comforta-
bic after your days work but then Lucy
could not so alone, of course"
'An right, mother. l have had sill l
needed. Tell me when YOU are ready
for the seading."
Miss We're reached the Priory full
hslf-hour before Mr.. Gaveston and Una
though they came with a pair of horses
and she walking with the maid. But 10
gain this halt-hour Lucilla had made her
calculations, and now was improving il
TO the best of her ability; sitting at her
ease in the somber, heavily furnished
drawing room, while her godfather walked
10 and fro before the wood fire, glancing
sometimes impatiently at his watch. and
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