The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1913-11-28


Gregory's brain. What a hooking q
tality, that it should have been Grace
to send Robert on his terrible Grand
an errand which must result in ruin!
Mrs. Gregory would be pitied when
it became known how she had been de
ceived; Fran would be pitied because
she was a disowned daughter; Grace
would be pitied for trusting in the in
tegrity of her employer-but Gregory
who of all men needed pity most
would be utterly despised. He did not
think of himself alone but of his works
of charity-they, too. would fall. in his
disgrace, and Walnut Street church
even religion itself-would be dis
credited because of an exposure that
could avail nothing.
Gregory had been too long proclaim
ing the living God not to feel Him as
a Presence, and in this Presence he
felt shuddering fear that could sug
gest no relief but Precipitation. He as
we'll as Abbott Ashton had kept him.
self informed of Roberts movements
as far as they were known to Miss
Sapphire, hence the day Of Roberts
return found his thought of atonement
at its most frenzied stage.
AS evening wore on, he made up his
mind to the fatal step.
Before Robert could oppose him
Gregory would confess. Now that
the last hour had come, he sought his
wife, Keeling like a sick man as he
descended the hall stairs.
Mrs Gregory was softly playing an
old hymn, when he discovered her
presence in the brilliantly lighted par.
lor. Grace was expecting a visit from
| Clinton and had made the room cheer.
full for his coming, and Mrs. Gregory
looking in and finding no one present,
had sunk upon the stool before the
| piano. She did not see her husband,
| for her face was bent low as she feel
| ingly played, 81 Need Thee Every
| Hour"
Gregory, well-nigh overwhelmed
with the realization of what he meant
to do, grasped the door for support.
Presently he spoke, brokenly, Lucy,
| how true that is-we do, indeed, need
| Him every hour"
She did not start at his voice, though
his presence had been unsupported.
She raised her serious eyes, and OBJ,
served his haggard face. Mr.. Greg
| DRY, you are ILL"
"No-the light hurts my eyes, He
turned off the lights and drew chair
near her. The room was partly re-
vealed by an electric arc that swung
at the street concerts mellowed
| beams entered the open window.
Lucy, have something very impor.
| tant to say to you
| Her fingers continued to wander
among the keys, making the hymn
barely audible, then letting it die
away, only to be revived.
Lucy, 1 have never spoken of this
before, but it has seemed to me for
long time that we have wandered
rather far apart-yes, very far apart.
We sit close together, alone, our hands
could touch, but our souls live in diff
| way?" CD
She ceased playing abruptly, and
ferent worlds. Do you ever feel that
answered almost in a whisper, Yes"
Perhaps 1t is my fault" said Greg
| DRY, although l know that if you had
taken more interest in what interests
me, if you had been true to the Faith
| as have tried to be"
81 have been true to you," said Mrs.
Gregory
"Of course-of course-there is no
question of our being true to each
| other. l feel that l am not wholly to
blame. Lucy, it has been my fault
and it has been your fault-that is
| how look at it."
There .$as silence, then she said
"There seems nothing to be done"
How do you mean? You speak as
if our love were dead and buried
She rose abruptly, saying, And its
grave unmarked" r4-
! "Sit down, LUCY haven't told you
what I came to tell-'gvu must listen
and try to see it as see it. Let us
be reasonable and discuss the future
| in Ain a sensible and matter-of-fact
way. If you will agree"
Il will not agree to IT" she answered
firmly. Let me go, Mr.. Gregory
there is no need ever to bring up that
subject"
He had risen, and now in blank
amazement, he stared at her, repeat