Grand Forks herald. [volume] (Grand Forks, N.D.) 1916-1955, 1921-05-18

plantation, but which had 3 now %.
icome = wood. the little red brick cot-
tage. smothered all over With creep-
ers, It's tiny garden abiase with fow-
ers, it's empty rows Of dog kennels.
lits deserted line OF coopAsSDAv
glanced for 2 moment Ct ~ drawn
blinds OF the Abbey. Then he cross
led the footbridge and the fewssy1rdss
OF rneadow. lifted the latch OF the
gate and. walking w the gravel: path,
came to- sudden stAndsdll. mar
who wa seated almost hidden BY Q
great cluster of fox-Elovess rose to his
feet.
.It,s you then, iadi" he exclaimed
holding out both his hands You're
welcome! There's no one. to the
ihouse-there won't be for a quarter,
of an hour-so I'll wiring your hands
once more. It's a queer. world. this.
David. You're back with. me here.
where I brought you VI asa STRIPPING,
and ycn's the Abbey. Sit you down.
boy. I am not the man I was since
II came here.
David THAN dragged an old ,fash.
lioned kitchen chair from the porch.
and sat by his uncle's side. Richard
Won't. although he wa still younger
than his sixty -four years seemed to
his nephew curiously changed during
the last. week. The< hard, ,resoluto
face was disturbed. The mouth.
kept 20 tieht through the years, had
weakened a little. There was a vague.
almost pathetic agitation. in the
mans face.
You'll take no noicc Of me. Da-
vid,' This uncle went on. TIN honest
with YOU. These few days have been
like . great. holy dream, like some
thing one reads Of In the Scriptures,
but v expects to see. There's old.
Mary SWells-she's doing for me w
there. Just . word or two OF sur.
more, And there's tho Abbey-curse
F1t!-not 4 stone gone. only the win
dowe are blank. You see the weeds
on the lawn, David: Do you mark
tho garden behind Z They tell me
there's but " gardeners there to do
the work OF twenty. And the drive
look at 1t as far as you can see
moss and weed! They're conhine
down in the worlds these Mandeleys.
David. Even this last little lawsuit.
the lawyers told n1e, has cost this
MARQUIS nineteen thousand pounds.
God bless you for your wealth. David!
It's money that'counts in these days.
David produced a pouch of tobac-
W AiOui MIS- pOCkSL anu IdHQSQ IL
over to his uncle. who filled a pipe
eagerly.
That's thoughtful Of you, David"
he declared. I'D forgotten to buy
any, and that's a fact, fof can't
stand the village vet. You're look,
ing strange-like. David"
And l feel it." was the quiet an
swer. Uncle. hasn't it made any diff
ference to you. this coming back?"
I'm what way?" the old man asked.
We'll, I don't know. walked
across those fields to the park, and I
lEeemed suddenly to feel more like a
boy again, and 1-felt that somehow I
was letting 90 of things. DO you
know what I n1can"
Letting 20 of things" Richard
Won't repeated suspiciously. MOI
We'll somehow or other" David:
continued. as he filed his own. pipe
ands lit it. IT found myself looking
back through the years. and i won-
dered whether we hadn't both let one
thing grow too big in our nsinds. Life
doesn't vary. much here. Things are
very much as W. left them, and it's
itall rather wonderful. I felt a little
ASHAMED, as i came up through the
park. of ON Of the things we've
planned and sworn. Didn't you feel
a little like that. uncle? Can you sit
here and think Of the past, and re-
/, member all that burden we carried.
and not feel inclined to let IT. slip.
or Just a little Of 1t slip, from our
shoulders"
Continued In tornoErowi . !.