HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Advocate, 1887-06-23, Page 610.
SIR HUGH'S LOVES.
Where Wee 1itlo everk fee eithee elf theca
.ta .Sandycliffe, but they carried their joint
energhee farther a -field. Pierrepoint had a
large peer popaletion, and the vicar WSS
pld STI4 Stipple ; ae accepted gladly the
volanteerea services of 1u8 zealous coadjutor)
and, led by hisfelthfuldohanie,Me,Ferrers
peaetrated into the winding alleys, and
cerried comfort to many a sick and dying
bed. tead. as Mr. Brebtion grew more
'infirm, it became e rele for Mr. Ferrers to
oceeMY his pulpit on Sanday evenings, and
it was always remerked that on these
°cessions tho thatch was crowded; people
would came ten to 'twelve miles to hear the
telleid teleran:me. .from Sendycliffe. It was
alma =cited by the .Bishop whether, after
Mr. Bralmizon'e death, Pierrepoint theald
not be offered te Mr. Ferrers.
After the first few weeks Baby Ewers
never epeke of his blindness M any ono •,
even Ms lailf-eister Margetet who lived with
hire, and was his dearest and elosest friend,
never Mare a repining word feora his ;
neither die. he waste his strength by silent
brooding -the activity of his life left ,him
no time for thia ; when he was not ocoupied
with his ministrations, or preparing bis
sermoas, Margaret would wed to him for
hours.
Yet, it was evident to any keen observer
who studied the OW face that some load
of care lay on the bowed shoulder e of Mr.
Ferrers; some heavy weight that at times
seemed to crush him. Sometimes when
Margaret was reading to him he would
=Lek° a sign for her to stop, and, laying
down the book, she would watch him pacing
up and down the green alleys of the Graage
garden with his sightless -eyes turned to the
sna-shine • but she knew that it was not of
his blineness he was thinking, but ot a
heavier trouble still.
Few people shout Sandyoliffehnew that
Nergaret Ferrets was only Baby's half-
sister ; there were only a few years between
-them, and in the olose lettimaey that had
grown up between the brother and sister
it was seldoin remembered by either of there
that they had different mothers. Colonel
Ferrers had inatried within two years of
his first wife's death, and the second Mrs.
Ferrers bad brought the Grange and a
wealthy dowry to her husband.
Bathe marriage had not been a happy
one, and the three last years of Mrs. Femora'
life had been passed away from her husband.
There were hints and tales of bitter scenes
ill the Grange, but little was known in. the
village,. only, when Margaret was 7 yeare
old, and Baby a lad of 14, there was a grand
fuaeral, such as Sandycliffe had never
witnessed, and Mrs. Ferraris was laid in the
same marble tomb where her predeeelisor
was buried, and it was noted. with some
-surprise ana a littleineredulity that Colonel
Ferrets seemed overcome with grief.
Auras about fourteen months before Baby
had stood in the large porchwaiting for his
.gleass of milk that one summer's morning
the little churchyard was fall of loitering
-villagers, waiting for the bells to stop before
they hurried into their places.
The white Lady from the Grange, as
some of the children called her, had just
,passed into the porch, 'after stopping to
reprove some noisy urchins eating small
sour apples on the tombstones; and old
Granny Richardson had just hobbled in
after her in her red cloak and neat black
bonnet, and her prayer -book folded in a
blue and white checked handkerchief with,
a little bunch of sweet-william and
.southernwood-old man they called it in
those parts -to keep it company. After
:granny ()erne old Samuel Tibbs, the patriarch
-of the village, in his clean smock and
scarlet handkerchief, followed by his
,youngest grandson in all the elms of
-corduroys and hobnailed boots. Young
Sara as they called him, was the youngest
of fifteen, who had all grown up strong and
healthy under the thatched eaves of the low
white -washed cottage down by the pond.
There the fifteen young Tibbso had
.elbowed, and jostled, and kicked, and
metaphorically pecked at each other like
young rooks in a• nest, and had grown lip
strong and hearty on a diet of bread and
treacle alternating with slices Of bread and
dripping, running barefoot over the grass
and splashing like young ducks in the pond,
until promoted to hobnailed boots and
bird -scaring, with a promise of ridingthe
-plough-horses to Water, and an occasional
'bird -nesting expedition on their own
aceoutit.
The bell had ;stepped, and theleat loiterer
had taken his pleas on the oak bench, when
as usual two stranger took their places in
It seat that was wavily occupied by any
chalice worshipper.
Most of the little congregation were
larailiar with the featuree of the younger
and every one in the village knew
that tall; broad -shouldered hien with
-the fair beard and handsome aristocratic
face was the yoeng master from Redmond
Iran, who was Lb marry Mies Margaret,
the vicar's ;Sister.
But even young Sam Tibbs leaves off
admiring his hobnailed boots to stare at
the brewen siekly-lboking gentleman With
the white Moustache that occupiea the
,othet end of the seat; and Mergaret, sitting
with the sclabol children, looks curiously in
the nine direction, for this le the first time
that she has seen Sir Wilfred Redraorid
,sinbe his tetarn from Persia.
I3oth father and son are Wenideifelly.
alike, the thinks; they hey° both the tune
heavy -lidded blumertey (gee, the sines
proud carriage of the heiid Mid stately
presence; but the bright sunshiny smile
that gteeted her froni Hugh Redinotid is
Ortaihly not reproduced on his father's
Sonibre face. Sir 'Wilfred lothea ill had
'eadderied ; and evidetitly the report that .
ill -health had brought his researches te
speedy' end was probably true.
Sit 'Wilfred lietehed With greVe
-to Mr. Ferrets' elogrient sermon. The deep
musical voice bald fine delivery seemed to
rivet hum; he sat motiettlese, with his
thin Mende graeping each othet, his Oa
Axed on the pale, poseekful fee° WM& the
tioraing etiaslimie toudhed with a god (A
As initial Hugh Redmand'ii atteatioh
ateleyed ttl the terrier Where Mtiegetet Sat,
the light frota tlae painted windoWeetiched
stainiegher white oven With patches
of pritenatideolOra bordering of (Ameba
nead bale and Iriolot,rnand iin a Older;
,
email congregetion bed streamed out of the
ehurph, $ir Wilfred left his seat, and
watked th
pp e aisle tp inspect the chancel.
He evidently thought his on was %allowing
fcirke tureted mind once to addeos
him ; hat :lefugh aiid noticed that Margaret
had quietly slipped Through e Bide door,
wed he hedttilY fotioNved leer
She was standing tinder ;he 'shade of a
willed', looking at a newlyanade grave, but
she tamed With a ensile when ehesew him
etriding over the grass; with the imp sataing
oti his golden -brown heed.
Margaret," he said reproachhilly, "why
have you not ty.aited to speek toasty father?
Raby has just mined lrixa.'
. A quick blush crowd Margaret's few-,
her lover's question rieemed to pain her -
bet she auswered with 'her ecoustomed
gentleness,
"Surely yop must know, doe.; hew
could I meet Sir Wilfred when he es etill
in ignoranee of our engagement."
• et Ali 1 true, I forgot," with oeshort 'poesy
lalleh ; but it was Hugh's turn now to look
nacomfortable. What a little Puritan
you are, darling, as though belf a •doon
owil words woald have mattered."
" But I eould•met have said them, Hugh,"
with quiet firinness ; I should have telt
awkward and constrained you r father's
presence; I should have beteayed secret
by my very silence."
well, it will be a secret no longer,"
with an Impatient sigh. it You look at me
veryreproachfully this morning, Margaret,
butindeed I have -net been. to Mame so
much as you think; my father was tirecl
from his journey yesterday. I am afraid
he is in very bad health. I confess I am.
anxious about him. 'We had BO MU011 to
talk about, and he is so full of that wonder;
ful book of his. Come, cheer up, dear; I
will not have you leek so serious; X will
promise you that he shall know of our
engagement before I deep to -right."
Basely and truly, lipgh."
" Really and truly, dear; now say
something kind to mebefore I go."
Ten minutes afterwards Margaelt walked
slowly down the churchyard to join Baby,
who was waiting for her at the gate. He
heard her footstep, and held out his hand
to her.
I was wondering what had 'become of
you, Margaret. Sir Wilfred has been talk.
ing to me for a long time; he asked after
you but. of course I made some eXCUSB
I think I know why you hid yourself."
"That could only be one reason, Baby."
" Ala I was right then. I said. to mye
self, depend upon it, Madge means to stand
on her dignity, and read Hugh a lesson,
and I hope he will plait by it. I do believe
Hugh's favolite motto is ' never do to -day
what you can pat Off until to:morrow.'"
"1 think you are a little bard on Hugh;
he has promised that he will speak to his
father to•clay.'Y
"1 am glad of that," very gravely. "1
confess that this procrastination has made
me very uneasy ; it was not treating you
fairly, Margaret, to leave his father all
these 'months in ignorance of the engage-
ment."
"Yes, but you forget," interposed hie
sister eagerly, "he did write telling Sir
Wilfred everything, but the letter never
reached hira. Yon are generallyso
m
charitable, Raby, and yet you isjudge
poor Hugh so readily."
There was an injured tone in Margaret's
voice that made Rabe? smile ; he knew that
she was blind to Hugh's faults -that she
believed in him with all a loving woman's
credulity ; and yet as he smiled he sighed.
He knew his sister well, the simplicity
and strength other nature, the unselfishness
and purity of her aims -few women had
so high a standard -and he reverenced as
well as loved her, for every day showed hira
new beauties in her character. But his
knowledge of his sister made him doubt
the wisdom of her choice; in his laeart he
had never really approved of her engage-
ment with /fru& Redmond. Hugh was a
capitalfellow, he told himself: a pleasant
companion, loveable in his way, and not
without his special gifts, but he was not
worthy of Margaret.
Baby had not always been blind, and his
intimacy with Hugh Redmond had given
hina plenty of opportanity to judge truly
of his friend's defects. He knew Hugh
was manly and generous, but be was Also
weak and impulsive, hot-tempered and
prone to restlessness; and he marvelled
sadly how Margaret's clean grand nature
should centre its affections mad hopes on
such an unstable character as Hugh
Realm/id.
" She will never be happy with him;" he
said to himself ; "one day he Must
disappoint her. Oh, I know well there is
no harm in him; every one would call him
a good fellow ; he Is clever, he hag plenty
of pluck, he bas gentlemanly feelings, and
he worships Margeret. But in naer opinion
the wife should not be superior t� the
husband; if there must be weakness, it
should. be on the other side. And Imre
Baby sighed, and gave himself up to
melancholy arid more personal breedings,
and he thought how strange and baffling
were the perVersities of human nature, and
how hearts clave to each. other -in spite
of a hundred. faults and. blemitheli-se
adargeretfe clave to Hugh Redmond.
No, there was no love Without suffering,
he thought ; Oen happy love had. its thrills
and tremors of doubt, its hours of
anticipatory fears. A little while age. and
his oweilifehad stretchedbeforehini,bright,
hopeful and full of enjoyreent, and then a
dead had bleated out all the geredly lead 01promise, And, he had been left peer prieonee
of hope on the dim hordises, led in paths
that he truly had not Irilown-enysterious
paths of aufferirtg and patience
Baty had not answered his sitter's
reproachful !Speech, but he bad taken her
though hand and pressed it, as asking her
teardon.
it I wish yea thought better Of Hagh,,,
she Said softly, as she felt hie Oressing
gesture ; and Baby ;ladled again, .1222
do thirik Well of hini, Whom I that
I should WO my follows? But hetes
hot seen the Mei" yet Who Wetthy of my
Margaret. Carte, it not that lovet-like
speech ; Heel hinteelt might hew; said it.
But here we are at home; ean smell the
torso in the porch ; they are a ?Sweet Weibel:MS
to e- blind Man, are they hot, Madge 2"
OFIAPTElt
IIL
m
tee" mile ?Mt evetanet-etint.
tinge to lier deaa.brown hair ana na,lIngh Thus oft the niburnor's wee -Waal 'meet
looks at her lie tells hinittell again that .he
her -his peittl amOeg Whalen.
has neYer ikon any ?nee to ceneentee I,. Too limed to boat ti eityieg t'�;
iea11;igatitinrttddiaq'ot
r to falWh81 theetvee bbdhe 0teredeeaaeeeeeea
Oue Walls and gently whispered all I
Tam love ee-will not fled forgive?
Kale 4 ahrf400.%
„Strangers passing. thteugle Sendycliffe
Always 'noise to admire the picturesque
old Grange, with ite curieas gables and
failtastieellY ttaisted ellinneeYei ite mullten
windews and red brith evellithalf smothered
in Peer, While all ports of creepers festooped
thealeep shady porch, with its long oaken
benches, that leokee so cool and inviting on
a hot summer's day, while the ever ?men
door gave it glimpse of a hall furnished
like a sitting -ream, with a glass doorleadingm
to a broad gravel terrace. The soothly-
shaven lawa ill trent a the house was
shaded by two magnificent elms ; a quaint
old garden fall of sweet-sraelling, oid-
fashioned fiowere lay below the tensile,
and a curious yew -tree walk boarded one
side. This was Mr Ferrera' favorite walk,
where he pondered ever the subjeot for his
Sunday's sermons. It was no difficulty
for him to find his way down the straight
alley. An old walnut -tree at the end with
a brod pircular seat and a little strip of
grass round it was always known as the
tt Master's summer study." It was here
that Margaret read to him in the fresh
dewy mornings when the thrushes Were
thth
feeding on e lawn, or in e evenings
when the birds were chirping their good-
nights, and the lark had come down from
the gate of heaven to ets net in the corn-
field, and the family of gret3nfinclies thee
had been hatched in the branches of an
old acacia -tree were all asleep and dreaming
of the " early worm."
People used to pity Margaret for having
to spend so many hours over suoh doll,
laborious readiags ; the homilies of the old
Fathers and the abstract philosophical
treatises in Which Mr. Ferrets' soul
delighted must have been tedious to his
sister, they said, but if they hail but known
it, their pity was perfectly wasted.
Margaret's vigorous intellect was quite
capable of enjoying and assimilating the
strong hardy diet provided for it ; she
knew 111r. Ferrero' favorite authors, and
would pause of her own accord to read over
again some grand presage or trenchant
argument.
Hugh had once laughingly called her a
blue -stocking when he had found the brother
and sister at their studies, but he had no
idea of the extent of Margaret's erudition;
in earlier years she had learnt a littleGreek,
and was able to road the Greek Testament
to Baby -she was indeed "his eyes," as he
fondly termed her, and those who listened
to the eloquent sermons of the blind vicar
of Sandycliffp little 'mew how much of that
precious store of wiedom and scholarly
research was owing to Margaret's unselfish
devotion; Milton' e daughters reading to
him in his blindness were not more devoted
than she. -
When their early Sunday repast was over,
Mergaret, as usual, led the way to the ole
walnut -tree seat; she had Reble's
"Christian Year" in her hand and a volume
of Herbert's poems --for wearied by his
labors, Raby often preferred some sacred
poetry or interesting biography to be read
to him between the services, or often he
bade her dose her book or read to herself
if his thoughts were busy with his evening
sermon.
The strip of lawn that surrounded the
walnut -tree led to a broad gravel walk with
a sun -dial and a high southern wall where
peaches ,ripened, and nectarines and
apricots sunned themselves; here there was
another seat; where on cold autumn
morieings or mild winter days one could sit
and feel the naild claastened sunshine steel-
ing round one with teraperate warmth ;
a row of beehives stood under the wall,
where sweetest honey from the surrounding
clover -fields was made by the busy brown
workers, ti thelittle liverymen of industry,"
as Baby called them, or" his preachers in
brown."
Margaret glanced at her brother rather
anxiously as she took her place beside him;
he looked more than usually tired, she
thought ; deep lines furrowed his broad fore-
head, and the firmly compressed lips spoke
of some effort to repress heart -weariness.
He is thinking of our poor child," she
said to herself as she turned to the beauti-
ful poem for the seventh Sunday after
Trinity: " From whence can a man satisfy
these men with bread here in the wilder-
ness" -the very text as she knew that
Baby had selected for his evening sermon
cit Pierrepoint ; but as her smooth melodious
voice lingered involuntarily over the third
verse, a sigh burst from Baby's lips.
Landscape of fear! yet, weary heart,
Thou need'et not in thy gloom depart,
Nor fainting turn to seek thy distanthernei
Sweetly thy siceenlag throbs are eyed
Ey tho kind Saviour at thy Bide;
For healing audfor balm e'en now thy hour is
come.
"Oh, that it were come for both of us,"
muttered Raby in a tone so husky with
pain that Margaret stopped.
"You are thinking of Cryietal," she said
softly, leaning toseards him with a facefull
of synepathy. "That verse Was beautiful;
it reminded me of Our child at once," -but
as he hid his face in his bands without
answering her, she sat raotionless in her
plate, and for a long time there was allow°
between them.
M
But ergaret'e heart Was full, and she
was saying te herself: "Why need I have
said that, as though he ever 'forgot her?
Poet Itaby-epoor unhappy brother -forget
het 1 sehen every night in the twilight I see
him fold his hande as t/aough in prayer, and
in the darkness canhear hiinwhisper, God
bless My darling •arid being her home to me
again.' '
"Margaret 1"
Yes, dear ; " but aa she turned quickly
at the beseeching Mile in which her tame°
was uttered, a sniilo came to her lips, for
Baby's hand was feeling in hit inner bread
pocket; and she knew well what that action
sIgnifled; and in another moment he had
drawn out a letter and had placed it in
Maigtheetel outstretched ntiled. Beet elhce
thie letter had reached than abbat two
naonths ago, each Sunday the Onus silent
request had been Made to her, and each
timeede iloW; she had teleen it witheue hesi-
tation or coniment, and. had road it slowly
f b • t d
The envelop?) bore the Leedli poistnietitia
and the letter itself wee beidently written
hi a fidwing gitlish band.
"Alk iseafteet Mat d'Alene it begat', "ilea
.traalight es though I Meet write to 'cu;
ifeetietinics the honio-eickrieea is so bitter -
the longing So intoned' to eet; yout doer face
I cen hsrdlyendure it;. there
lite time§ when the restleSenotti iSSL tine&
durable that 1 amnia sit etill and beet it
.--Whete I feel as thetigh I bed bat one wish
ii the *Mid, jeet ie feel our utile retitle':
am fthen lie down and dieh.4---„,
orgiven and
me again, and )2ear from Your liPs t
A' YOU Buffer too, you sey, in theme letter
that has reached me Iheve aver -shadowed
you happiness. You wed Baby are
trimbling your kind hearts abentme, but
indeed there is no need for any tth eeanxiety.
el have met with good Samaritans. The
roef that sheltees me ts humble indeed, but
it !shelters lovipe bears and eimale kindly
natures -natures as trueasYmere, Margaret.
--gentle high-souled women, who, like the
charitable traveller in the Bible, have sought
to pour oil and wine into my wounds. How
you would love them for my sake, but still
more for their own!
if These kindly strangere took me •in
without a word -they asiced no questions.
I was young, friendlees, and tinhaPay, tha
wee all they cared to know.
4' raust tell you very little about thein
for 1 do not W1011 to give you any ohm t
my home at present ; they are a mothe
and two daughters in reduced cirounestanaes,
but having unmistakably the stamp of
gentlewomen; both mother and daughter,
for the second is oily a, child, have high
cultured. natures. The mother-forgiveme,
Margaret, for I dare not mention her name
--Macho in % school close by us, and her
daughter is also a daily: governese. I am
thankful to say that their reoramendations
have prooured me work of the tame kind;
I give morning lessons to tsvo •little boys,
and Fern -that is the eldest daughtee's
name --and I have also obtained some orders
for embroidery to fill up our leisure hours,
and occupy our hamls while we Math Fora's
a
youngest sister.
"And now that I have told you all this
will you not be comforted a little about=
will younot believe that as far as possibl
things are well with me? Tell him -tel
Raby-that when I have wiped out my sin
a little by thus bitter penance and inertia -
cation, till even I can feel that I have suf-
fered and repented enough, I will come bath
and look on your dear face again. And
this for you, Margaret ; know that in tho
blameless harcl.working life I lead that I
have forgotten none of your counsel,
and that I so walk in the hard and. lonely
path that I have marked out for myself
that even you could find. no fault. -Farewell,
" CRYSTAL."
As Margaret's VOiC8 died away, Baby
turned his sightless face to her.
"You may give it back to me, Margaret,
but stay, there is the copy of your answer ;
I think I would like to hear that once again;
and Margaret obediently opened the thin
folded paper.
Nr POOR Denerere-zAt last we have beard
from you -at last you have yielde'd to my
urgent request for some news of your daily
life. God bless you for lifting a littleof the
weight off us, for telling us something about
yourself and your work. I could not help
crying bitterly over your letter, to think
that a humble roof shelters ourchild ; that
you are compelled to work for allying; you,
Crystal, who have never known what it is
to want anythiag ; upon whom a rough
wind was not suffered to blow. My ohild,
come home. What need is there of penance
and expiation when all has been forgiven ?
The evil spirit that tormented our child has
been cast out, and you are clothed %teeth in
your right inind now; come home fordtaby's
sake, and be his darling as of old! Do you
know how he longs for you? Daily hs ass
'Any news of her, Margaret?' and last night,
as I was passing his study door, he called
me in and bade me give you this message -
'Tell my child, Margaret,' he said, 'that
every night I bless her and fall asleep
breathing her name; tell her that my for-
giveness and blessing are ever with her;
that there is no bitterness in ray heart;
that she cannot escape from my love; that
it will follow her to the world's end. And
tell her, Margaret, that if she does not soon
come back to me, that I,Baby-blind, help-
less, useless as I tine -will seek her through
God's earth till I find her and bring her
back.' Ab, surely yoIi must weep as you
read this, Crystal. I pray that every tear
may be God's own dew to melt and break
up the hardness of your heart. Your
ever loving MARGARET.
;
forth. As bilergaret looked out op the
mporeight that evening, she tittle thought
that that SeindaY wasthe lest day of 4er
happy eialhood-thae th# marriage held a
bitter trial in store for her.
She Was Patina alone ix t the enernir3g-
•room, the next afternoon, Owe ir
Wilfred Redmond was anneuneed, and the
next' moment the otd man entered the
room,
faint blush 010118 to MUNSTSVB °MOM
•MS 018 rose to greet him. This virsit meant
repognition of her as his sox's fiancee ; and
yet, why did he come alone -why was not
Ef egh with, him 2 Hugh's father was alnaest
a stranger to her. go was a man of
reserved. habits, who had. leaver been very
sopiable with his neighbors, and Margaret
had seen little of him in her girlisla days,
" is very good of yea to come so 150011,
s Sir Wilfred,' she said, blushing still more
O rosily ander hs penetrating glance. it I
✓ am so sorry that neY brother is out; he has
gone over to Pierrepoint."
"1 came here to 4180 you and pot your
brother," returned Sir Wilfred.but he did
not look at ber as •he spoke, and Margaret
noticed that be seemed rather nervous.
My business is with lou, Mee Ferran ;
I have just heard strange news -that you
and my son are engaged ; is that trueV'
"
Margaret boeved herhead. She thought
Sig Wilfred's manner rather singular -he
had mot her with coldness; there was cer-
tainly no trace of warmth, no cordiality in
the loose grasp of ber hand. Shewondered
what madebin speak in that dry, measured
voice, and why, after his leapt keen glance
at her, he had averted his eyes. He looked
older than he had done yesterday, and there
; was a hare.sised expression in his face. "
e is rather strange,' he went on, " that Hugh
I should have left me in ignorance all these
months, but that "-as Margaret seemed
about to speak -it is between nee and him,
I do not include you in the blame, On the
contrary," speaking now with some degreeof
feeling, "I am sorry for you, Miss Forms,
for I have come to tell you, what Hugh
refuses to do, that I cannot consent to my
son's marrying you."
Margaret started, and the proud indig-
nant color rose to her face; but she
retrained herself.
"May I ask your reason, Sir Wilfred?"
I have a very good, suMcient reason,"
returned the old man, sadly; Thigh is
my only son."
"1 do not understand—"
Perhaps not, and it is nay painful task
to enlighten you. Miss Ferrers," hesitating
a little, "1 do not wonder at my son's choice,
now I see you; I am quite sure that you are
all he represente you to be ; that in all respects
you are fitted to be the wife of a wealthier
man than Hugh But for my boy's oake I
ani compelled to appeal to your getterosity,
your sense of right, and ask you to give
him up."
" I cannot give your son up," returned
Margaret, with noble frankness; "1 on
Perrrly."isedto him, and we love each other
• d
• I know that," and for a moment Sir
• Wilfred's eyes rested on the beautiful face
before him with mingled admiration and
pain, and his voioe softened insensibly.
"My dear, I know how my boy loves you,
how his whole heart is centered on you. I
can do nothing with him -he willnot listen
to reason; his passion for you is over.
mastering, and blinds him to his best
interest. I have come to you to help me
save him in spite of himself."
At thee soleran adjuration Margaret's face
fgorreswoekalhe,erarid for the first tiraeher courage
"I cannot bear this," and her young
voice grew thin and sharp. "Why do you
not speak plainly and tell me what you
mean? Why do you ask mo to save Hugh
-my Hugh -when I am ready to give up
my whole life to him? You speak as
if his ;marriage with me would bring him
a curse."
"As it most surely would to him and to
his children, Miss Ferrero. Margaret -I
may call you Margaret, for I knew you as
a child -it is no fault of yours if that be
the truth. My dear, has no one told you
about your mother?"
She looked at him with wide open,
startled eyes. "My mother, Sir Wilfred
no, I was only seven when she died. I
think," knitting her white brows as though
she were trying to recall that childish past,
"that she was very ill -she had to go away
for a longtime, and my poor father seemed
very sad. I remember be cried dreadfully
at her funeral, and Raby told TUB I ought
to have cried too."
"1 loved your mother, Margaret,"
returned the old man, and hie mouth
twitched under his white moustache. You
are not like her; she was dark, but Very
beautiful, Yes, she was ill, with • that
deadly hereditary illness that we call by
another mirae; so ill that for years
before her death her Inisband could not
see
"You mean—" asked Margaret, but
hee dry white lips refused to •finish the
sentence. Sir Wilfred looked at her pity-
ingly, as he answered-
" She was insane. It was in the family -
they told Inc so, and that was why I did
not ask her to marry me. She was beautiful,
and so many loved her -your father end I
among the number, NOw you know, • Mar-
garet, that while my heart bleeds for you
both, I ask you to release my son."
(To bo continued.)
"That was written nearly two months
ago, Madge, and she has not come yet."
"No dear, we must have patience."
Baby sighed impatiently. So you
always Say; but it is hard to be patient
under such circumstances -to know that
the %veinal' you love has made herself an
exile from all she holds doe. Margaret,
I was wrong not to tell her what 1 felt. I
sometimes feat that she has misjudged my
silence. But she was so young."
"You meant it for the best, Raby ?"
"Yes, I meant it for the best," he answered
slowly. "1 did not wish to take advantage
of her youth; it Aid not seem right or
honotable. Let her go into the world a
little and see other men, that is what / said,
to -myself. Even now, I herdly think I wait
wrong."
"No, you Were right, quite right; but
you need not have dreaded the result of
such an ordeal; Crystal would never have
loved any one but you, Baby. I ?some-
times think" -but here ske hesitated.
"You think whet, Margatet 2 "
"That she was jOSIOUS of Mon -that she
misunderstood you there?" ,
Good heavens 1 Mrs. Grey 1"
"Crystal wag se yoUng and aid not know
that poor latona's life Wag doomed. I have
leen her leek at Mone so strangely when
you were talking to her; and wee she
asked no if you adMired fair Women, and
if eiou did not think Mrs. Grey 'eery behuti-
ful ; and when I said yes, I reiriembor she
turned veil pale, and did not answer."
"1 never thought Of this," he returned
in a toile of grief. It "must have been one
of her tick fancies, poor unhappy child -as
though My heart had eeeor swerved irom
het foe an instant. What do yea think,
Margaret, could she Ore for the blind Men
still?"
•
"Moro then Seek, dear. If 1 khow
Crystal,, her be
has belonged to you from
thild. '
if There speaks' my comforter" -with ciao'
of his rare smiles; "you are always good
to Me Madge, Noire road to hie a little, and
let MO banish these weary thoughts. One
little cite -eon° faint hint -and I woeld keep
thy Ward and se?31t for her; bat, as you say,
tee "Mist have petiolice a little longer," and
Itabyetraighteried himself and temported
hieaself to listen, arta they sat theft until
the evening @am:chino bogen to creep About
he lane -dial, and it wia; them for Baby to
walk mroi. to Pierrepoiht,
It is well for some Of that Coaling
✓ vonts do not lelWaye Ott their elitideses
'before ; that we lie down to rest in heppy
igtioithee Of whet the net day May bring,
Melee up Their Prominent eitizona.
The stingiest ;nen in the World has been
discovered in Galt..IO use* a; Wart on the
bath Othie neck as a della/. button.-Dtai-
dae Banner.
Well, everthat la better then using 0
wart to wear a hat i
on,. as some one does n
Dinidas that wo know of..-0,alt Reporter.
The fOttael dregs pateclas of the Ilkettian
army'nest bo very amusing affairs, 'At a
recent parade there woke thirteen privates,
ton officers and six drumneers, the Met df
the ram" not thinking it worth while to
attend. Both effideits hda rdtd tarry, their
arres as they aletiate and the prieeted
al:I:ye:it in pietatbegile tettere. The sentried
always Sit on toinfertliblie theirs while on
d
In the south it is a pereinlar belief that
'tea den eedure fetgue in het Weetheit
better an batter.inille then any other dtkk
It eetielielt the craving for eelas ancl
fureisheet in its cheesy motto:03a good Mikity
of Wholesotais nutrition
lb' Sea' Francisco, einem last Seta -eddy
Week they halt experienced the hottest
weather eirer known 211 thlit eater,
1