The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1909-04-23

struggle has been to see you so often, and
yet keep down what surged within me, !
only know. When l kissed your cheek
at parting last time, l nearly clasped you
in my arms and poured out the secret OF
my soul to you. l did not; it seemed
madness-it is perhaps madness now but
my darling, l could not lose you. When
you tell me that another seeks the prize
l covet, right or wrong. l must speak
Maude, You must decide between us. Can
you trust me, and waltz"
Once more the letter fell in her lap
and the softened grey eyes and slightly
flushed face augured well for Grenville
Roses wooing.
Yes she muttered, softly, Il think
| love him now as he would have me
and if | don't quite yet-for it seems all
so new to me- know l could shortly.
Gren, dear, what am l to write to you
l think it must be Yes"
1t was wrong, she thought, to keep
Gren in suspense when he was so dread
fully in love with her; so that nights
mail bore a timid, futtering little note,
the receipt of which produced a ire
mendous state of exhilaratiOn in that
young Templar.
But poor Maude, after the first flush
of exultation that enters the breast of
every girl at a welcome declaration of
love, quickly awoke to the fact that her
position was not a whit improved by it.
She confded her engagement to her moth
er, and for the first time in her life
Maude beheld Mrs. Denison really angry.
I'm surprised and disguised with Gren-
%ville," said that lady. Its too bad of
him. taking advantage of a child like you
in this manner. l like him, always have
liked him, and, under different circum-
stances, would have sooner seen you his
wife thar any mans l know. But he
can barely keep himself as yet, and must
know that his thinking of a wife at all
is foolish in the extreme, and that think
ing of you is simply absurd. He's behaved
very badly, and if you don't promise to
write and break it off, you can say, by
my desire, l shall tell your father all
about it."
'Oh, mother, you won't do that" said
Maude.
mot unless you oblige me-" said Mrs.
Denison, sternly.
Poor Maude was electrified. That the
mother she had been always accustomed
to pet, and do as she liked with, should
suddenly rise against her like this, was
past her comprehension. Yet to anyone
who has made character his study, moth
ing can be more in accordance with the
usual law in such cases. Weak, feeble
characters when, either from caprice or
driven by necessity, they exert such power
as may be in their hands, invariably do it
ty%rannically and despotically.
Mrs. Denison has suffered of late from
the stern rule of her lord and master. In
spite of all her love for her daughter, she
has become dimly conscious that there
will be no peace at Glinn unless Maude
yields assent to the ukase Harold Deni-
son has promulgated. Women of her
class can suffer, but they cannot resist.
Even now she would not urge Maude to
marry Pearman. But that her impecuni-
GUS nephew had dared to entangle her
daughter in an engagement, especially at
this time, reused as much wrath within
her as her nature was capable of. Most
mothers, l imagine, would deem she had
grounds for indignation.
All this while Pearman has not been
idle. Slowly. but surely, the legal notices
and proceedings progress, and Harold
Denison knows full well that within three
weeks ten thousand pounds must be found,
or Glinn must go to the hammer. The
Pearmans conduct the campaign with
s%crupulous politeness. 1t is quite in &C
cordance with the old traditions of the
Battle of Fontenoy. They apologize for
every fresh process, and allude to it as a
mere matter of form. They affect to be-
lieve that there can be no doubt Mr.. Den
ison will easily pay them off at the tx
piration of the notice of foreclosure. The
old gentleman even INDUCES in popularity
on the subject.
MEAN to have the very last day out
of us, l see, sir and quite right, too" he
chuckled, upon meeting the squire one
day.
"Yes, Pearman," was the grim retort
II learned the exacting of my pound OF
flesh, to the last pennyweight, in your
hands. 1 have not forgot my lesson. You
burn it into your pupils minds pretty
deeply"
The old lawyer has laid himself open
to another rebuff, and Denison has not
failed to take advantage thereof. Why
Sarcasm breaks no bones, few knew bet
ter than that astute fisher of men,
His sentiviness was tolerably blunt, and
he rocked little what men said to him,
or of him. so long as the furtherance OF
the object he had in view was attained
That his son should marry Maude Deni.
son was the goal he now aimed at, and
that that was to be brought about, he
still thought far from improbable. To
that end he conceived, even while press
ing him for money, it was quite necessary
to keep on easy terms with the squire
None knew better than he how bitter il
IS for a proud man to take his words
back, and if what he now played for wa
to be achieved. that was a necessity. The
task must be made as easy as possible
the unpalatable draught sugared as fal
as might be.
"He-he." he answered; you will
have your joke, Mr.. Denison. It's
mighty pity you couldn't make up your
mind to concentrate the property once
more. Beg pardon, Squire" he continued
deprecating Denison's angry gesture
don't fear my abiding to it again. Il