The Press., 1914-08-05

If you had known the other way to the Ridge 1t might have been pos sible to get there"
 What do you mean2 What other way2"
 "There's q way around the south side of the Hewston hill, just wide f0Otpath in summer, under the rock all the way. It Is sheltered from north winds. but the snow drifts in deep It might be done on shoes"
 I will try 1t now," he said.
 You could not go alone. would have to go, too-to guide you"
 Your he exclaimed Impossible! The very devil is abrOadW
 "I've been out in as bad as this be- fore," she said. T had no fear then, and have none now. It's because I'm weathered."
 
 A faint light. alternately visible for Il moment and obscured by the clouds of driving snow. sent hope to the hearts of two people struggling blind ly forward.
 For two long hours they had match ed their united strength to that of the storm. now vanquishing it. again all but overcome by its mad force.
 But they still stumbled on with eyes fixed steadily upon the beacon.
 The next thing was the hum Of voices, the soft rubbing of hands and feet and a gradually returning con- sciousness of identity. of situation and of circumstance.
 "Ah, there! She'll soon be round. Just to think of 1t! She always had grit. Don't you mind how she always walked her two miles to school, storm or sunshine. sometimes wading through snow to the waist? Never missed day"
 Aye. I do. And I'll tell ye this It may not be Christianlike, and it's not a nice thing to say in the house of the dying, but if I were Lena Miller I'd never have done 1t for her."
 The girls returning senses caught the word dying" and she raised her self partly to ask. with weak voice:
 Was he too late?
 No, dear. He Is here to do all that can be done-tO give her relief from pain. No one can save when the Lord has called"
 A long silence came, broken only by the tick of the tall clock in the corner and the cry of the great storm without. Then some one came through the hall way and paused at the kitchen door.
 Lena Miller Is called. She must come"
 For Il minute the girl scarcely under st lnd. Then. hesitatingly. unsteadily she rose. and with assistance walked to the door of the sick chamber and there paused.
 The room was empty save for the form of the dying woman on the he'd, She went in alone. and hand gently closed the door from without.
 Alone with his mother, lying white and still. The face, upon which Death had so surely set his mark. bore strange resemblance to his in the dim light It startled her to see move ment of the lips and to hear the words:
 ''ls 1t you, Lena?"
 The girl bent over her
 I'm dying. Do you hate me?"
 She tried to answer, but no words would come. There was q tightening of the muscles at the throat, Weak almost to the breaking point with phys ical and mental strain. she coutd scarcely stand. but she caught rod of the bed and steadied herself.
 The voice went on:
 I'm dying, and I've been wicked woman The penalty has been paid The bodily suffering has been great, but the mental anguish has been dread ful beyond words. l prayed God to send you tonight. and he has been good. Girl. l lied to you and to my sOn!'
 She stopped for breath and strength to proceed Her voice fast failed her.
 "I wrote him letter. and in that letter I said you had gone away. far away. to become nnOther's wife. spun the story well. cleverly. Then l let you think he had married and with my own lips told you that she was rich"
 The hand that held the iron rod shook. then relaxed and quickly caught at the cold fingers.
 But the paper!" she gasped.
 ''The paper was the beginning That was not written of my sons marriage. but of his-the doctor who came to- night. It was before he came to the Glen. and none in these parts knew the right of 1t. let them believe the wrong so that you would hear You heard. and your heart was broken. knOw!'
 The girl fell upon her knees by the bedside. and the pentup anguish If nine long months spent itself in a