Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1912-06-25

to look for 1t after my encounter OF
the night before. Now that searched
my memory, could see very clearly
the black silhouette of my assailant,
as he had stood and fired, and ne was
nareheaded. No man would have gone
roaming hatless about the country. II
] had not been such a fool, had not
been so startled with the roar Of his
revolver. should have thought Of this,
and should have hidden away this In.
trustve witness of the nights unpleas-
antness. 1t was too late now, but de-
termined that Nancy should not re-
member It long.
my friend seems to have been in
something of hurry" I said. But
Nancy could call up no answering
smile.
You make too much of that little
disturbance young lady" laughed.
i VIII throw the thing out Of sight,
and then we will think of something
else. Your nerves have grown too
acute; few minutes Of the sunshine,
though. will put everything right with
you again."
! picked up the hat from where the
l'ttle breeze still rocked 1t in the dust,
and tossed 1t behind the clump OF
hydrangeas that had sheltered me the
night before, and we went on again on
our walk to the village.
But the brightness had gone out OF
tnlngs, the close joyousness of being
together had passed. for the time, be-
Iyond recall. l did my best to drive
away the cloud. to bring the color back
again to Nancy's cheeks, and she tried
her best to help, to smile at the foolish
things said: but we could not man
age II. So, after had tried for some
ume, bowed to the inevitable, and
decided that at least 1t could not make
matters any worse to question Nancy
on part OF all the things that wanted
to know.
Perhaps, after all said, you had
better tell me now why you married
me, why you were even willing to
trust stranger to-"
There isn't so very much to tell"
Nancy said as I paused uncertainty.
I lived like any other girl until five
years ago, when my father lost his
mind. My mother scarcely remember
at all I was very little when she died.
Until was thirteen, my father and
lived alone, except for my governess.
We were very happy. for we were de-
voted to each other and great friends.
indeed, he kept me SO constantly with
MIN, and undertook so much Of my
education himself. my governess had
very little to do. He had been banker
before my mother died, but with the
enock OF her death he retired He
loved her SO much that he had no wish
to live himself. and II he had not been
able to turn that love to me- do not
think he really would have survived
her long. It Is bad for man to have
nothing to do. His fortune was an old
Inherited one, and his business had
never been more than half-hearted
occupation. With his sorrow he
dropped 1t absolutely, and dropped his
friends and clubs and acquaintances.
] see now that 1t was bad for him,
that he should never have shut him
self away from the world; for year by
year he became more of recluse He
was active and spirited as young
man, think. The blow of my mothers
death crushed all that out OF him With
me he was never morbid nor gloomy.
only sweet and mild and gentle, as if
the handspring of his life had been
| snapped. Then when I was thirteen my
uncle Ephraim. fathers elder brother,
came to live with us. And almost from
the day ne came things began to
change in the house.
II don't know why my father let him
come, or why he let him stay, except
that In his own sorrow he was filled
with pity for any hurt or injured
thing. He had inherited the bulk Of
the fortune. for my grandfather had
practically disowned Uncle Ephraim
for some youthful scandal that my
father would never tell me about. He
only said that we should be sorry for
him, and that his ways were not our
ways. and that he was quite poor now.
But little girl as was, wondered
that my father, knowing what he did
Of my uncle, could fall SO completely
under his sway"
Nancy threw out her hands in IT.
tie gesture Of defense.
ITO Be Contfnued) /.