Nelson Chronicle, Colne Observer, and Clitheroe Division News. — 1890-10-03 (Nelson, Lancashire, England)

GOSTHE.  " Why did you deceive me, mother ?" he said in a loud excited tone. "She is dead, her sister says Winifred Riddell—and I murdered her !" " Hush, Graham, hush I" "What object had you ?" continued Graham, who was terribly agitated. "Do you know what you have done I—a fine farce you have made me play ; I have written to ask this dead girl to he my wife !" "My son, my son !" cried Mrs. Graham North, going up to him and flinging herself down before him, and casting her arms round his knees," forgive me, , forzive me? Your reason, your life hung lin I  balance. I deceived you to save you. Do you think I have not suffered I Your letter to this poor girl never went • they brought it to me, and I lo? ked it away. Graham, araham, do not look at me thus IVill you read this letter ?" said Graham, gloomily. " Rut this has ended it all, mother, I will go away- -will never return." _ Mrs. Gmlittn North rose from her knees, and took _ .  Dorothy's letter in her trembling hands'. As she read the angry, bitter word., abmbite terror seized her; she seemed to see a vision of the vimhetivo farmer ; to dread some fearful tragedy befalling her son. _ .  "Yes, you must go away," she said, pale and eager; "you must go at once, Graham. Keep out of the way of that dreadful man." " I do not. wish to keep out of his way ; it is not for that, mother, but here I cannot stay." "Go up to town to•night. dear," she said ; " the sham;e will do you good, and, by-and-by, I will join you there." Still Graham did not speak. "You will get over this, Graham," urged the anxious mother; "there are bitter and unhappy moments in every life--" "I shall never get over it," interrupted Graham gloomily and briefly. "Go away now, mother, and leave me to myself. I will go to-night." Graham North left Dillford the manse night, and, during the day, WANC no one but his mother. After the first terrible shock was over, he roused himself and made certain arrangements like a man who intends never to return to the place that be is leaving. He wrote, for one thing, to Dorothy Riddell, and, for another, to Mr. Dixon, the old lawyer, and he spoke in a calm toe to his mottin about their affair', and told her he meant to begin an entirely new life. "1 mean to work for my daily bread," he said, and his mother dare not even hint a word of Katharine Despard. Before he left, he went downstairs to say good-bye to his father, but the old squire did not seem to understand, and babbled some aimless words. " He is not so well to-day," said his attendant, and when Graham bent down and kissed his father's crippled hand, the poor man began to cry. " Fresh troubles," he whined out—the old, sad refrain that had lingered on his lips 60 long. With a suppressed Nigh, Graham turned away, feeling that he would see his father's face no mire, and in the hall he found his mother waiting, ready to accompany him to the station. "Let me go with you," the proud woman almost pleaded, and Graham could not refuse her request. But he spol.e almost without heeding what he said. In the darkness, he still saw one face—the fair, sweet fate, with pathetie,trustful eyes—that he had last kissed on the moorland, amid the snow.