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20 © WILD “MARGARET,
- “ Little or: nothing. , Austin, an suddenly; fe aid she evar n
apply to you for help?”
‘““To me?” he exclaimed, | raising his brows. ‘t ‘Certainly
not! Why do you ask?” |
‘‘ Because she said that she had, and you had refused. to.
assist her. But she was ‘dreadfully: incoherent, and: I’m
afraid that privation and ‘trouble’ have upset her reason.
She, poor girl, seemed possessed by some.wild idea that she.
had injured me. She even feared: that J: should—strike’
her! When I offered her some money; and begged her to.
tell me where T could find her, ‘She turned, and bolted, and
IT lost her.”?
‘Austin Ambrose drew: a breath of relief and mixed him: :
self some brandy and water. |
‘*Poor Lottie, she must be half mad! : “Thought she had
injured you! | Why, how could she do that?” | or
Blair shook his head,
_ “By no way that I know of. She behaved. very str angely
all thr ough. She must be found to-mor row.” | 7
“Of course; and there’s nothing easier. . Don't make
‘yourself uncomfortable about it, ‘my dear Blair. Towill
set. the police on her track’at once, and we'll soon find.
her. ° ‘But the meeting with poor Lottie hasn't, Spoiled
. your evening, I hope?’
Blair was silent fora moment, then he: said, in a low
voice:
_ “No, no; it. was nob that, painful as it was. I wish to -
Heaven it was no more! | But—but—Austin, I have seen |
poor Margaret !”’
Austin Ambrose sprung to his: feet, and his hand a slid mS
like a snake into the bosom of his coat.
~ “ Seen—seen——!’’ he exclaimed, hoarsely.-” .
“Yes,” said Blair, whose back was turned’ toward him.
and who did not see his white face and the movement: of
_his hand; “‘yes, I have seen her in a: picture.” -
Austin Ambrose dropped into:the chair’ again, and lift-
ing the glass to his lips took a good draught.
“*In-a picture, my dear Blair! . You—you star tled me!
Ina picture!’ A face that resembled hers, My dear old
‘ fellow, you are too sensitive. You must, really you must,
fight against these feelings. ‘They are ruining your life,
In. a picture-
“Yes: not a face like ‘hers, but her very own, I'sawa
picture *_and he stood and held out his hand as if he
were pointing to it—‘‘of Margaret, of my poor darling .
herself—lying on the Long Rock at Appleford p his voice
broke, and he turned away.
Austin Ambrose looked ‘at: him,
“ “Hei is going mad!’ he thought,