Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1909-09-10


only know. When l kissed your cheek
at parting last time, nearly clasped you
in my arms and poured out the secret of
my soul to you. 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, 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, II think |
l love him now as he would have me;
and if don't quite yet-for 1t seems all
so new to me- know l could shortly.
Gren, dear, what am 1 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; 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 confided her engagement to her moth
| er, and for the first time in her life
Maude behold 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
L -, l. L h aIvryox hu xyn
liked him, and, under different circum-
stances, would have sooner seen you his
wife than any mans / 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, shall tell your father all
about it."
ooh, mother, you won't do that" said
Maude.
"Not 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 tbs
usual law In such cases. Weak, feeble
characters, when, either from caprice Oh
driven by necessity, they exert such power
as may be in Gheir hands, invariably do il
tyrannically and despotically.
Mrs. Denison has suffered Of late from
the stern rule of her lord and master. Ii
spite of all her love for her daughter, sh
has become dimly conscious that Their
will be no peace at Glinn unless Maud
yields assent to the ukase Harold Deni
son has promulgated. Women of he
class can suffer, but they cannot resist
Even now she would not urge Maude +
marry Pearman. But that her impecunl
} GUS nephew had dared to entangle he
daughter in an engagement, especially a
, this time, reused as much wrath With
her as her nature was capable of. Mos
mothers, imagine, would deem she ha
grounds for indignation.
All this while Pearman has not bee
. idle. Slowly, but surely, the legal notice
1 and proceedings progress, and Harol
: Denison knows full well that within tire
: weeks ten thousand pounds must be founC
e or Glinn must go to the hammer. Th
q Pearmans conduct the campaign wit
d scrupulous politeness. 1t Is quite In a,
; cordance with the old traditions Of til
Q Battle of Fontenoy. They apologize fc
9 every fresh process, and allude to it as
8 mere matter of form. They affect to b
a lieve that there can be no doubt Mr.. Del
9 ison will easily pay them off at the Q:
8 piration Of the notice Of foreclosure. TT
old gentleman even INDUCES in pocularit
/, on the subject.
It "Mean to have the very last day Of
l. of us, see, sir; and quite right, too" !
% chuckled, upon meeting the squire OIL
le day.
T Eyes, Pearman," was the grim retort
It ~ learned the exacting of my pound
. flesh, to the last pennyweight, in yo1
8. hands. l have not forgot my lesson. Y
ie burn it into your pupils minds pref
* deeply"
The old lawyer has laid himself OBJ
~ to another rebuff, and Denison has n
= failed to take advantage thereof. VIII
Sarcasm breaks no bones, few knew b,
Z, ter than that astute fisher of mer
=, His sentiviness was tolerably blunt, a
=. he rocked little what men said to hi
~ or Of him, 80 long as the furtherance
3. the object he had in view was attAinC
- That his son should marry Maude De-
~ son was the goal he now aimed at, a
~ that that was to be brought about,
~ still thought far from improbable.
- that end he conceived, even while pre-
~ ing him for money, It was quite necessa
.Iv to keep on easy terms with the squi
~ None knew better than he how bitter
Is for a proud man to take his VOL
ed back, and II what he now played for "
ia to be achieved, that was a necessity. I
az task must be made as easy as possible
,ot the unpalatable draught sugared as |
to as might be.
it "He-he" he answered, you v
nd have your joke, Mr.. Denison. It's
nix mighty pity you couldn't make up u
RI mind to concentrate the property o.
I more. Beg pardon, Squire" he continu
nd deprecating Denison's angry gegtul
ny don't fear my abiding to it again.
ere was presumption on my part, know, q
it If l said anything to vex you, I'm 81
ell I'm heartily sorry. You'll forgive an
ore man, who, not having been brought
with your views, saw nothing but the c
my centration Of an estate. Yes, I know
ell was all In the wrong; It isn't likely N
Tho Mands could be brought 30 think Of 81