The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 1915-07-29

peated over and over again.
I'm not saying Mary did a wise
thing In running away like this" adj
united Adam. 1T has caused a lot Of
taik-you know the kind of women
there are in Corinth. They're bound
to say nasty things. But she would
do it. The only decent thing Jack Pay
son could do was to see her through
with it. He loves her. He couldn't
do anything else"
Eric shut his paws with a snap.
She's got me to reckon WITH he
grated. She'll come back to Corinth.
or III know the ease why"
She'll come back if you insist, but
L wouldn't insist too vigorously, IL I
We're you," was Adams s%ententious
advice.
The next morning, after having lis
tened for an hour or more to the Bit
ter declarations of his uncle and
aunt, Eric left the breakfast table to
redeem his promise to Joan. He had
promised to call her up on the tele-
phone the instant he arrived in Co
rinth. Other ~distracting events had
put this tender obligation out of his
thoughts. A servant in the Bright
home informed him that Miss Joan
was out of town and would not return
until the end of the following week.
He was annoyed and puzzled by this
extraordinary piece of news. Joan, in
iieA !dSI leltei, Had saiu she Wouiu
be fairly hanging over the phone, wait
ing to hear his dear voice.
His appointment with John Payson
was for IL o'clock. Adam Carr had
arranged it, apparently without ON
sulting the New Yorker.
Eric had been at once struck by the
changes in his uncle n aunt. They
more than ordinarily smileless. Signs
of deep suffering lay in their eyes.
Heavy lines marked the gaunt, ascetic
face Of his uncle; his shoulders dropped
far more than his rigid, upright figure
might have suggested. He looked a
Blagden's hair was perfectly white. A
strange, sad sweetness-the reflection
Of far off g%irlhood's gentleness-had
come into her face. Her voice was soft
and charged with a c~uriously vibrant
note, altogether unfamiliar to Eric,
sharp, incisive tones that bore no re-
lation to love.
She moved with a certain %listness-
ness, and yet there was eve the I'M
DERIVING suggestion Of alertneSs, Of
eagerness. He observed that h W
passed the grim old hall clock with
out glancing at its face; for an in
slant her ann suggested the atti-
tude of one listening-just a fitting
Impressions if she were trying to
catch a sound not distinguishable to
other ears. Her somber black dress
bore no touch Of color save the ivory
cross that hung suspended from her
neck at the end of a string of heavy
jet beads.
He had told them that he did not
hold them responsible for the step
Mary had taken, and they seemed
grateful. Something in the manner Of
these uncompromising natures gave
| 49,. - ,,I@,cto,] ~. that fhnu ho1 snff-
ened, at least toward him; that the
steel edge had worn away; h a visit
full, hungry hearts were being laid bare
that he might see them plainly and
forget not to touch them gently.
Il shall bring her back, Aunt ena,"
he had said.
"She will be welcome, Eric" said his
aunt, and he was surprised by the sim
pie appeal that went with the words.
1--WE acted as we thought best. If we
were wrong-well, we cannot always
be right, try as we may"
from home" he said, on his return
from the telephone.
His uncle was standing at the win
dow, looking out over the wet lawn,
a gaunt, frail figure, poignant with re-
serve.
with young Sallonsby and his party
"Sallonsby? You don't mean the Sal
lonsbys, of Boston,"
paul Sallonsby. I think you knew
him at Cambridge. He has come into
a fortune. His father died a year and
to each of his children. Paul has beer
seeing a great deal of Joan, 1 hear. He
has taken a party to the West Indies
"They left last week." added Mrs
Blagden. Fills yacht was in the har
Dor here for two days"
~ -Io-~I IIo ~ o~I .
believe his ears. Joan had not men.
toned young Sallonsby in n of hel
letters, nor had she spoken Of a con
templated cruise. 1t was more thar
strange that she should go away a
the very time he was expected home
A dull pain assailed him. What die
it mean? Was it possible-but no
She could not be anything but constant
He could swear by the pure light il
her eyes. And yet, she had gone away
Vaguely dismayed-in addition to thu
depression that was already upon him
through the dim parlor and sitting
room, torn by many emotions. Th'
prim rooms, so unlike those to which h,
had become accustomed in Paris AM
elsewhere, seemed to be narrower, NOR
confined than before he went away
as he stood in them, the walls draw
ing closer about him, the Getting com
ing down as if driven by a great, slow
moving press. An atmosphere of op
pressiveness surrounded him. All tn,
brightness seemed to nave been swep
. out Of life. Something dead pervadet
the, house. from top to bottom.
The same damask sofas and chair
stood in their accustomed places in tn
} parlor. The brussels carpet, with tn
big, well-remembered pattern, lay be
meath his feet, as new as the day 1
) was first put down, 25 years ago. TIL
!, old portraits n oil paintings still
) hung suspended by silken picture cords
relics Of an obsolete grandeur. Owe
by the window which looked out upol
the front yard and the street at tn
bottom Of the knoll stood a chair tina
somehow was out Of place in his mem
DRY. 1t was drawn up close to the sid
of the window. and faced the Ign
though screened from outer view b,
the heavy, Immaculate lace curtain
} that always had been there.
Immaculate? He crossed over, strucl
by an unusual aspect. One of the cur
tains hung straight and prim, but tn
!, other, next to the chair. was slightl