Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1909-04-02
PIER XXI

CHAPTER XXI.
Slowly Lorraine turned over the sheets
OF the Times when she reached the IL
brary. not anxious for the intelligence
which could never have affected her in
any way, but simply to distract her mind
from this vague foreboding which had
seized her. And when she reached the
last word OF all, she laid the paper back
upon the table, let her arms fall upon it.
and her head upon them.
Athol We're entered the room, and stood
a moment irresolutc, heartsick to Sc" the
utter dependency of her attitude. 81
raised her wet face, startled at the sound
of his steps, and then his momentary res
@olution of leaving her vanished.
Your father sent me to look at the
| pa papers, he said. II did not know any
one was here, SO | did not knock. Lor-
raine. my darling little friend, how it
grieves me to see you in grief"
She tried to keep back the tears while
she greeted him, but the very sight of his
sympathy and pain renewed them, and
her head dropped again, and her tears
fell hot and quick.
Dear" he said. softly, laying his hands
upon her hair, Il wish | might comfort
you. I wish | could
Fol- he knew that such n sorrow as he
had seen upon her face in that glance
was born of Il love which he had failed
to win through all his lifc's devotion, and
he knew. too. that it was borne not for
herself alone.
You do comfort me a~lways-always.
1t always comforts me to hear you or TO
see you-it always did"
MY pet THE old name which had,
from his lips, been her childhood's one
caress. slipped from them now uncon-
sciously. as he took her burning hands
and held them tightly in his own-"my
pet, you know why this is so, because you
know how / have loved you all my life
Yes, Athol, l know" she answered,
her hands burning in his. her face full of
a sad longing to do right. Il have al
ways known. But why did not you make
ne listen to you long ago! Oh! Athol,
if you had, it would have saved so much
| and now .
Now is it too late?"
"Athol," she said. the color mounting
slowly to her face, her eyes wide and
wistful, 'let there be nothing but truth
between us. From you it always has
been truth; but II want you to know
it now from me-"
II do know it," he answered very low.
For deep IN his souis the iron had entered
long ago, and he would spare her all he
could.
YOU sure, Athof7 Ara you sure
you understand exactly?' she asked visit
fully. but with a great tightening of her
heart to think she need not speak of
Rourke.
YES: all. I think
."I,hen, Athol. do you not see how far
/ an from being worthy to take such a
love as you have lavished on me as long
as l can remember? Because"
Because p he questioned gently.
because what I could give you is only
n troubled, tired heart"
Gould you give me that, Lorraine?'
"Willingly, If it were worth giving.
You deserve a love SO different, Athol;
a first, last, only love. l should only
come to Jou for a rest"
."You mean what you say?' he asked
"You can rest in my love?'
"Athol. you know me better, l be-
lieve, even than I know myself but I
do not think that even you can know
what a rest it would be for me to feel
that you would take me as ! am. and let
me always feel your love and care about
me, knowing how it has been"
You could give me your last love,
though you could not give me the first
or only one
.sAthol,' she said most earnestly, my
heart has never done anything but fight
against-that love you know of, which
lived always, always, against my will. No
love has ever been good for me but yours
and when I have-if ! ave ever pictured
happiness to come into my life, it has
never been With mean, no one has ever
shared in my thoughts the future left to
me-"
MY darling. my darling ~ Tor an in
slant she was startled by the flash Of
passionate joy which brought the words
rushing from his lips and the scarlet to
his face. Then she saw the old quietness
steal back once more. Lorraine, my
child. il this Is pity-pity either for
Rourke or for me-you may be sorry af-
terward. Shall we wait and see?'
II shall never be sorry. Atrol," she
said 81 have always cared too much for
you for that-always. II you can hav
patience with me-more patience now
even than you have always had-and if
you are sure you wish 1t, knowing all
that has been in my heart-then please
take me for your own"
"'And IT," he added very gently. sit is
as you would have me think, not all for
my sake that you come to me tonight,
still, love. You come to me at last of your
own will and-some day this love may
grow and strengthen into such as l have
dreamed of"
So it was on that March afternoon
Rourke and Lorraine parted in that room
xx,hcro t,ax- haI ErSt vnat and Afhn1--
where he had first looked upon the baby
face which was to grow so dear to him
held it to his beating heart at last, and
took a lovers kisses from the sweet,
tremulous lips.
When ne had lett her she fell again
into her old. dropping posture at the table.
Perhaps after this day was gone she
would never feel again. as she had felt so
often and often. She was trying hard
to stife This feeling when her father
came into the room. Whether it was that
the suffering in his child's white face
struck him, or whether, now that he was
to lose her, he was suddenly awakened to
all that she had been TO him while he had
never acknowledged it. perhaps not even
understood it, cannot be told but he felt
his heart yearn toward her with a love
which must have been lying dormant
through all her life.
Father" she whispered, coming to
meet him and calling him wistfully b.