Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1909-01-19

ant his oWh were growing CiLl, 10 you
and me though he only says to me
Rorrke leaves the Priory. Lorraine, oh
ms beloved. it made coward of me when
1 heard tit makes a coward of me now.
For you, my pet" Athol's voice was
broken now, The left that letter only, and
the ring it contains. | know the history
of that ring 1t was his mother's-his
own mother's-and no one else had worn
it, not even Una. He told me once. a
year ago, that it would st you; and |
knew. even then, with what a pain he,
said it. 1t cannot but fit you now. dear
est, tiny as * is Again be checked him
self. Have | told you all now"
No she whispered with fearless
quietness in her voice--'tell me more
about mis- boy"
The letter will tell you, dear, all that
/ cannot" he answered: and she saw
how hard it was for him TO speak OF this.
THE trustees and executors are his grand
father and Abram Bartle and myself: but
his personal guardians are only you and
myself. God help US in our trust ~
No word did she say; but her hands
were tightly clasped as she looked Up
into the wide, calm heaven above that
darkened house upon the hill.
Il will go and see your father now,
Lorraine" said Athol And then he gave
the letter Rourke had written on that
Sunday night, in the great suffering which
he had known must herald death.
She knew that Athol went because he
guessed she would like to be alone to
read it, and she thanked him in her heart
in i'm, bo bad Iaf he,
alone, did she try in vain to read. The
sight of the familiar writing brought a
pain to her eyes more binding far than
tears. Holding her head in both her
trembling hands she still could not ease
this throbbing pain, though presently the
words grew clear before her eyes, and
their meaning reached her heart.
When Athol came back she had risen
from her seat and was standing at the
window. resting her head against the
glass. Just in the, spot where she had
stood when Rourke had come to her with
his last, vain prayer, and just in the
same attitude, though the feverish misery
of that day was gone, and this sorrow
was very still and quiet.
You see what trust he leaves to us,
he came up and put his arms about her;
for the slender figure leaned now really
for support against the window frame.
20. my darling, may God give us power
to fulfill the trust !"
There is no word" Lorraine said,
touching the letter, softly, "of the lone
illness and neglect of his childhood; or
the lovelessness of his youth but in every
line there breathes craving for love
and care and sympathy for his son, and
confidence that he will win fathers and
mothers care from rs. Oh, Athol,
will Try so hard y
A few days later a remembrance sud-
denly flashed across Athol's mind of that
clause in the late Mrs. Farrissey's will
which was not TO be carried into effect
until either himself or Lorraine was en-
gagged to be married He started to his
feet. remembering that he ought to have
written or gone to Mr.. Lucas at once to
tell of their engagement to each other.
That day he went to London, and when
he returned he mad news to tell Lor-
raine which filled her with surprise as
we'll as grtitude. Mrs. Farrissey had be-
uueathed her house, furnished as it was,
with property equivalent to the income
upon which she herself had maintained it,
to Athol Vere if. when he informed Mr..
Lucas of his marriage, it was to be to
her youngest niece. Lorraine Gaveston.
But if ne announced his intention Of mar
rying elsewhere the property was to be
divided equally among all her relatives.
Lorraine, with the beautiful blush of
old, listened to these plans which her
aunt had made for her so many years ago
while she was a restless, hayward child
Are you glad my dearest?" Athol
whispered, seeing this look in her face.
which recalled the brilliant beauty of old
days
VERY. very glad" she answered, tears
rising slowly TO her eyes. Glad she was
fond of you glad she thought so kindly of
me. even then, as toto wish you to take
care of me. Glad you have not now
home TO make for yourself by ceaseless
work. Glad we are going there. Glad of
everything but one, Athol"
Il know it, dear one: but you will come
back to be near your father presently, and
ing it over quite cheerfully out in the
garden. where we met him."
"We?r questioned Lorraine
Yes Lucy walked with me. She is
coming in to you as soon as ever admit
her. She is dawdling in the garden still.
with Mr.. Gaveston.'
Il will go to them" Lorraine said. ris-
ing. Il am no invalid now. Athol"
Lorraine, my child" her father said,
as she sat on a low Seat beside his easy
chair. and laid her head upon his knee,
would it make your going pleasanter if
you knew it would not be lonely for me
here?'
"Oh, father, so much pleasanter, so
much easier she cried, with a quick.
flying hope which had never quite shaped
itself to her before
Then, dear. don't fret for me- he
said, smiling into her eyes. "Can you
guess why?''
= can guess can guess cried
Lorraine with her old childish excite
ment of ready sympathy. 'Lucilla is COM
ing TO take my place. mean. better than
that, she is coming TO be mistress here !.
Oh. father. I'm so glad -
viii Athol, too. be glad?" he asked.
"Oh delighted y cried Lorraine. with
thorough confidence. Father. am glad
Lucilla is so good now. so true and
staunch and unselfish, We never guessed
before what goodness was hidden in her
nsture-did we?"
Mr.. Gaveston laughed He was rather
inclined TO doubt if the goodness had
been there until the girl had been taught
one bitter lesson; bat he would not say
this even to Lorraine.
CHAPTER ZXVII.
Next morning Lorraine went with her