Bonners Ferry herald. [volume] (Bonners Ferry, Idaho) 1904-current, 1909-09-11

yet keep down what surged within me, l
only know. When | kissed your cheek
at parting last time, nearly clasped you
in my arms and poured out the secret of
my soul to you. f.-iid not it seemed
madness-it Is perhaps madness now but,
my darling, | could not lose you When 4
you tell nae that anptifr teeks the prize
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 Granville
Roses wooing.
YES" she muttered, softly, 81 think
/ love him now as he would have me ;
and If don't quite yet-for it seems all
so new to mel know l could shortly.
Gren, dear, what am to write to you?
| 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; 30 that nights
mail bore timid, futtering little note,
the receipt of which produced 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 welcome declaration of
love, quickly awoke to the fact that her
position was not whit improved by it.
She confded her engagement to her moth
err, and for the first time In her life
Maude beheld Mrs. Denson really angry.
I'm surprised and Disguised with Gren-
ville," said that lady. IT'S too bad Of
him, taking advantage of child like you
in this manner. like him, always have
liked him, and, under different circum-
stances, would have sooner seen you his
wife than any mans | know. But be
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 II you don't promise to
write and break 1t Off, you can say, by
my desire, l shall tell your father all
about It."
'Ob, mother. you won't do that" said
Maude.
mot unless you oblige me-" said Mrs.
Denson, 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
tyrannically and despotically.
Mrs. Denison has suffered of late from
| h. r,,Ia - har I'D opA t.
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 az 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
scrupulous 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
J 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 ex
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, see, sir; and quite right, too" h,
, chuckled, upon meeting the squire one
} day.
: "Yes. Pearman,"' was the grim retort
II learned the exacting of my pound o.
flesh, to the last pennyweight, in you
, hands. / have not forgot my lesson. You
burn it into your pupils minds prett,
deeply"
The old lawyer has laid himself opeI
to another rebuff, and Denison has no
failed to take advantage thereof. Why
Sarcasm breaks no bones, few knew bet
b ter than that astute fisher Of men.
His sentiviness was tolerably blunt, an
|, he rocked little what men said to him
! or Of him, so long as the furtherance o
the object he had in view was attained
: That his son should marry Maude Dem
J, son was the goal he now aimed at, an
that that was to be brought about, h
! still thought far from improbable. t
that end he conceived, sven while press
! ing him for money, It WAS quite necessar
to keep on easy terms with the SQUIRE
: None knew better than he how bitter
is for a proud man to take his word
! back, and II what he now played for wa
\ to be achieved, that was a necessity. TIL
. task must be made as easy as possible
4 the unpalatable draught sugared as ia
q a. might be.
+ "He-he" he answered: you wi
d have your joke, Mr.. Denison- It's
k mighty pity you couldn't make up you
/" mind to concentrate the property ons
1 more. Beg pardon, Squire" he continues
ID deprecating Denisons angry gesture
" don't fear my abiding to it again
Re was presumption on my part, l know, an
It II l said anything to vex you, I'm sui