Grand Forks herald. [volume] (Grand Forks, N.D.) 1916-1955, 1921-06-03

m,ranulously visible j the dank
grass disappeared, and many spiral
wrcaths 81. smoke were ascending into
me misty stiffness OF the spring
morning. Away behind IN the high
walled garden, were more gardeners,
bending at their toll. Richard Won't
was no reader Of tbe Morning Post.
but an item In Its fashionable intel
|ligence of that morning lay clearly
written before him. The Marquis was
coming back! :
Won't turned. slowly away, left his
spade in the toSl shed. entered the
cottage by the back door, carefully
changed his. clothes, washed the clay
from his face and. hands, and de-
scended into the sitting room, where
his breakfast awaited him. Mrs.
Wells looked at him curiously. She
was a distant connection and stood
upon no ceremony with him.
Richard. she demanded, where
were you when 1. come this morn
.ing?" i
taking his place .atsthe table. 4.
"And that you weren't, she con
tradicted, flor I made bold to knock
at your door to ask IL you'd like a
rasher Of bacon with your eggs.
He raised his head and looked ar
her steadily. s.
"Well?"
"Tm not one to pry into other peo-
pies affairs" she continued, but your
goingss on are more than I can I'M.
derstand. All day, long you sit with
the Book upon your knee. and II =
neighbor asks why you eve pass the
gate, or seemingly move a|limb, it's
the rheumatics you speak of. And
yet last night your bed was
slept in, my man. and / begin to sus-
pee .tother nights as well. Whats u
mean. chg" g4
Richard Won't rose to his feet and
opened the door.
"Just that" he answered harshly,
pointing to, it. I'll not be spied on.
Inch for inch and yard for yard, this
cottage and garden are mine, I tell
you-mine with dishonor, maybe, but
mine. I'll have none around me that
watches and frets because OF the
things that / choose to do. I'll lie out
in the garden at, nights. IL I will, and
not account to you, Mary Wells: or
sleep on the floor, II it pleases me,
and it's no concern Of any one but
mine. So back to the village COS
sips, IL you will, and spread your tale.
Maybe I'm a midnight robber and
roam the countryside at night. It's
my affair"
"A robber you're not, Richard
Won't" was the somewhat dazed re-
ply, land that the world knows. And
there's summit more that the world
knows, too, and that is that since
you came back from Americy. never
have you set DOT outside that gate,
| rS~A->s~ <s&A~a. ~o{<j~~ f4N vAv, az tA&
village, and there's them as smokes
their pipe at night in >the alehouse,
whose company d do you NJ harm.
but for some reason Of your own you
live like a hermit. And yet-yet-"
Go on, Mary" he said, sturdily.
Finish it."
TITS the nights that are barring"
Mrs. Wells declared. There's some
Of your clothes in the morning wrings
with sweat. There's sometimes the
look in your face at breakfast time
as though you'd had a hard days
work and done more than was good
for you strength"
"I'm no sleeper" he. declared, mo
sleeper at all. II 1 choose to walk in
the garden, what business Is It OF
yours. Mary, or OF any one"down in
, tn village? Answer ME that, wom-
an?"
Every man, / suppose, may please
himself" she conceded grudgingly,
, !, "but Igdon't hold with mysteries my
SELF.
Then yon tull well know" he re.
t piled, how to escape from them. If
they're too much for you, Mary, I've
Tended for myself before, and 1. can
: do it again"
Mrs. Wells snorted.
Keep your own counsel, then.
!: Richard" f @ $50. ..
!. And you keep yours" he advised,
!, You're my nearest Of kin, Mary,
though you're but my cousins WILDLY.
II you can learn to keep a still tongue
: nAyour head and do what's asked OF
you, there may be a trifie coming to
. you when my time comes. But II
: you get these curious fits on you,
and they're more than you can stand;
if you're going bleating from house
: to house in the village. and spending
your time in title-tattling, then swe'Il
. part. Them's plain words, anyhow"
Mrs. Wells became almost abjeet.
Continued I'm tomorrow
WI, Evenings Herald.