The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1911-03-01

Struggling 10 FORM some lued u
what her own course mast be in
view of this sudden complication. The
one idea which emerged strongly was
that she must see Evelyn. She was
the one person who could help her.
Evelyn was invited to the picnic the
following day, and during lunch it
transpired that Mrs. Bardsley had
only one spirit-stove Vernon knew
that Evelyn had a very good one,
OF a special kind, and volunteered
to go over and ask her to lend it.
Il don't think | dare bicycle,
though that would be the quicker
way" she said. But if anything
went wrong, and were alone, |
shouldn't know what to do"
Il will take you there" said Jem
at once. Il have business over at
Wishfield, that ought to have been
done last week.
Yes. but what about getting back? ?
| shall have tea with Evelyn, and
may not be ready to leave till six"
"A,l right; III call for you at
six"
Vernon's thanks were not very
hearty. She wanted to think; and
though Jem was not talkative, she
would rather have gone alone upon
Sultana. However, she would not
hurt him by refusing. He had been
very good in teaching her to ride,
in trying to show her that he was
sorry for past suriness and wanted
to do better.
Mrs. Bardsley's lips were sealed
She had to consent to their riding off
together, for all the neighborhood to
see-with that secret business OF
his at Wishfield in the background!
What possible business had Jem over
there? Either it was what she hated
to think of, or else he Was Just
making an excuse to ride with Yer
non; and that did not seem likely
1t appeared hours to Vernon before
she was able to leave the table and
run upstairs to change. She tore the
letter from her pocket and sat down
on the edge of her bed to read it,,
with her heart beating in her throat
"Amersham Hotel, Embankment.
MY own Dear Girl
Don't think me traitor to Gold
en- Ridge. | had to leave it. This
means life or death to me.
when your letter came, about
that young baronet, and your delight
in the place and the country, and
your conviction that your duty lay
with your aunt, simply felt
couldn't stick it.
Chapman is good sort, and he
saw that was eating my heart
out. He said if, after all his years
of faithful service, he couldn't get
in the hay without me, it was a
pity. He gave the best-the only
possible advice ! must make my
own position clear.
You are free-you may do as you
like-but at least you must not be
able to shelter yourself behind the
plea that | am not free man. There
fore | have come over to ascertain
the whereabouts of my so-called wife.
and get rid of her, once and for all.
Il know the name of the man with
whom she bolted, and | used to know
friends of his. | ought to be able
to get at things without much trou-
BILE, once ! start out to do it,
Il am mad for a sight of you
thirsting ,or it. All the
journey, and here in London, | have
not seen woman who could hold
candle to you in my eyes. But |
shall not come-unless you ask me
to-mtil can come as a suitor for
your hand
But should you say 'Come'-why,
then | don't suppose could hold out.
Yours, as you know. in life and
death,
LIONEL"
Vernon sat as if stupefied. hold
ing the letter in her hand He was
there, in London, bent on bringing
things to a crisis. And, when that
was accomplished, what should she
do?
She had not the vaguest idea.
Lionel seemed to belong to for
mer state of existence. The English
soil, from which her race had sprung,
he English life, had engulfed her.
rhe only thing about which she was
certain was that she would not go
back to Golden Ridge.
But Lionel was English, too. No
ioubt he would rather live in Eng