The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1909-03-18
CHAPTER XVI.


Harold Denisop paused He had never
seen his nephew break through his con-
ventional. cool. easy manner in this wise
before. He felt that he had been terribly
In earnest all through their interview.
Had he really some clue that might save
him? Then, perhaps, as far as 1t was in
his selfish nature to care for anyone, ne
loved that child of his dead sister, who
had lust poured forth this torrent of fran
tic entreaty. The cynic mask dropped
from his face as lie extended his hand.
I've had a deal to try me lately.
Gren: difficulties have thickened and
complicated above my head. You mustn't
think anything of what / say. Show me,
how. how 10 raise ten thousand tomorrow
morning. and well talk over other things
afterwards. At all events. Maude shan't
marry Pearman.'
Goodnight, uncle" said Granville. as
he clasped Denison's extended hand. You
can't think how happy you've made me
Leave me to work now, and il I'm not In
a position to forbid the banns by break
fast tomorrow. may 1 never have another
briefi'
Long and anxiously did Grenville wade
through those villainous musty old parcs-
ments that night 1t was a big box, anu
contained some two or three hundred such
old leases, agreements, mortgage deeds
since cancelled, deeds of trust, and mar
rage settlements of bygone Denisons now
sleeping thei- long sleep in the quiet old
churchys1d. TIE CLOCK had struck three
ere. with a chill feeling-of defeat he took
out the Inst musty paper. Could this be
il? No il was but some old parchment
connected with a right of water power in
the last century. Sadly Granville tumbled
the mass Of papers back into the box, and
gloomily sought his pillow. Had he dreamt
of the deed he had locked for? mo"
he muttered, as he undressed; IL saw it
once in that room. What can have become
of it? Maude, my dearest, have / told
you to hope. and have I hoped only to
drink the bitter cup of disappointment -
Bed was not Of much use to Granville
Rose that night. He tried it: but, de-
spite his journey and late search through
those bewildering papers, sleep refused to
visit his eyelids. A little more than
three hours, and he was splashing in his
bath, and, with knit brows, still meditat-
ing on what could have become of that
all-essential parchment 1T looks bad.
but / won't give in. l must search fur
fther. I'll have my head in every box.
escritoire. cabinet, or cupboard in all
Glinn before tomorrow night" In the
meantime he recollected that Maude was
ain early riser, so, finished his toilet and
betook himself quietly to the garden.
1t was not long before he caught sight
e L. A. II -
onds, and he was by Maude's side. Her
face flushed as she met him, and her
greeting was evidently forced and con-
strained.
II thought. Maude. dearest" he said.
that / might have the luck to meet you
before breakfast. 1t is the only chance
1 have of seeing you alone. Can you tell
me still that you don't repent what you
wrote in answer to my letter Of some
fortnight or so backY'
"Oh, Gren. what I'm / to say to you?
What must YOU think Of me? ] never
thought you cared about me in that way.
you know. And then to write to you as /
did But, Gren, dear, did mean it.
fought hard to be true to you. What can
/ do? They say it rests with me to keep
Glinn as a home 10 my father, and that.
If 1 don't marry Mr.. Pearman, we shall
be wanderers about the world. That
would kill them. / am very miserable.
You don't know what / had to 90 through.
/ didn't give in till / could bear it no
longer BE kind to me. Gren. please"
And the grey eyes, swimming with tears.
looked up into Roses face with a 9iteous
pleading expression that half maddened
him.
Don't know what you had to 90
through, my pet? Hum. | think | can
make a pretty fair guess" And even as