HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1910-01-20, Page 74•••
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, gone q,uite a little way on tt Mg under the trees.
ready, speeking literally. Ws the All through the terrors of tha.t
broadest road, Melo as if it waa love night of agony never once did
the most traveled, and must lead to he close his eyes; he dared not. He
Hompclen, By this thee those whom Mid only his thoughts and his .ine
we have left -so far behind us have tense pain tor company,
eliscovered—'' As lie lay there, drawing nearer
The rest. of the sentence Was never and nearer the inevitable, each rao-
finished, for the horse had suddenly., ment that passed thoughts. of the
stopped' short, shied sideways in the life he had led came to him like ao.,
utmost terror, and would have cusing spirits. The face of Olive
wheeled about but for the strong. Kneeland haunted: him—that face (
more fatally. . fair than Helen of
Troy's, and quite as allurizsg, Hoer
many men would go mad for love
of her? Duels might be fought for
her, and souls wrecked. He turned
from the thought, gathered a hand-
ful of green loaves, and buried his
face in them, shutting his eyes as if
to keep out the vision. •
He knew of another who loved her
better than his life, and that other.
olio was his elder brother, Roger,
who had played him false.
"Why must I be tortured with
thole remembrances in this terrible
houri" he cried out, with almost a
sob on his lips. "My brother was
worthy of her, after all, while 1—alt,
well! of what use to murmur -over
the Past now!" "
Me lay with his face upturned to
the night -sky until the stars paled
in the blue vault overhead, and the
pink dawn of early rnorn broke over
the eastern hills,
How long would this torture last
—how long! Already ,,the vultures
had scented him for their prey,
wheeling about and circling in the
upper air. "Oh, if they would but
wait until death claims ine!" moan-
ed Oscar Glendenning, in terror piti-
ful to behold..
The sun rose higher and higher,
and the terrible pain grew more ex-
cruciating; he' fejt his , senses reel-
ing.
Was he mad or dreaming. Sudden-
ly through it all he was conseious of
411/ Wihit414111 TOM, ILINLIARY 20 „linef
.111,11010e$efe+. 11•410..........41,1114 anti to rue it even, to the hour la
which he lay dying, 14*
.olives Courtship got the spare -Mem ready than the
two men appeared with their We-
deln, which they hail placed On a
The Armor's wife had no sooner
widely constructed litter, and, still
uhconseiouti, they laid him on the
biloW-white bed.
"Isn't he handsome!" exclaimed
good Mrs. Gray. "What's the matter
do you say, Duncan?"
dislocated arm and a ,eprabied
ankle," ho/rejoined, briefly, adding,
you an NOVEL can leave the room,
an' soon hey him in as good
shape as any doctor could. I didn't
study to be a doctor in my earl"
days fer nothin', an' it's come in
putty good, livire nigh onto twenty
mile from the village."
Mrs. Glk
Gray and Neva Waed slowly
from the room, but the daughter
took a backward glance, as slie
releched the threshold, at the hand-
some, death -white face /ying back,
against the pillow.
"If it's 45 bad with the stranger
as yOur father fears, it'll bo manY a
lay, I reckon, before he will be able
to leave bore, Mrs. Gt y lomat lied,
thoughtfullY, more to , herself than
her daughter, .
Neva looked -thoughtfully out of the
window and oVet• the hills, but it
was some Moments ore she made an—
swer:
"I wonder it hies married—or—ore-
single, mother?"
"What in the world makes • you
,wonder that'?" meted. the farmer
wife, sharply. The question did not
please her.
"I was thinking that some one
was waiting and watching in vain,
perhaps, for his mining, and--ang—I
, felt sorry if—if—his wife, if he has '
one, was waiting for him, and was
weeping, because he does not come, as
the long hours drag themselves by."
"We will let his friends know of
.'hiirleheveabouts juht as soon as we
can learn their address," declared
• the mother, "even though we have
, to spare one of the Jiands to ricks
twenty miles over td. the village,
using one of the horses."
It Ives two hours or more ere the
- stranger recovered consciousness, and
in the meantime Farmer Gray had,
done everything possible for hint,
and that accomplished, he considered
it his duty. to look through the
pockets of ;the young man to learn
who he with.
'There were no papers .whatever
about him, only a roll of bills in his
breast -Pocket, together with a card,
• on which was engraved the name
Roger Glendenning; it bore no ad-
dress.
As Oscar Glendenning opened his
.eyes for an instant, they traveled
around the neat, strange little room
in great bewilderment, resting at
last on the 'two men standing by the
open window, enga.ged just then „in
spelling out the name on the bit of
, pasteboard, and attempting to pro-
nounce it.
Glancing the farmer caught his
gesze resting upon him, He afossed
over to the couch at once.
BY LAURA JEAN LIBBEY . ,
,
Author of "A Crud nevtrige," "A Forbidden gar -
"A P. e 4 u t 1 f t s i Coquette," "The ,
•
, .
I-IC:reS..., Cf CaraCr011 Hall"
'determined hand that hold the reias
and the quick succession of bloW0
that fell on his quivering flank,
Again the horse shot forward, and
mile after mile was stretched quickly
behind horse and rider.
"We are on the wrong road, I am
afraid," muttered Glendenning, again
drawing rein sharply. "'Dins must be
the swamp road; yes, and, by the
eternal,' we are well into the quag-
mire.'
A fierce, impatient imprecation
broke from his lips; already the ani-
mal was plunging ankle-deep in the
treacherous ground, and sinking
deeper with every step.
Ile loosened his hold on the reins
and turned half around in the sad-
dle an instant. That action. was fat-
al; feeling himself free from all re-
straint, the animal suddenly wheeled
about, and in a twinkling the horse-
._ man was unseated and flung among
--the bushes, face downward, in the
leng._s_wampegeeiee, end the horse, free
As the wind, was lost to sight the
ttext monmet.
Glendenning attempted to struggle
to his feet, then a groan of agony
;broke from, his lips, and he fell back
half fainting among the long, poi-
tionous grasses and tufted weeds.
"I am done for mewl" he cried;
f'my right ankle and my left arm
• must be broken—they aro broken.
'Will they overtake me, lying here
:helpless and at their mercy? No, no;
will kill myself first! They shall
ttever take me alive; I swear it!"
He sunk back with a groan, weak
'from horrible pain and the loss of
.blood that flowed from a deep gash
in his arm.
"I am dying!" he cried. "11 I call
will any one hear, I wonder, Is there
deo human being near in this wilder-
" ness of swamp?" He tried to call
out, but the cry died away on his
Lips in a terrible moan of pain. "To
die like this!" he cried; "I w,ho have
•lived a life that a prince of the roy-
al blood might have envied. To flee
from the great metropolis only to
•And death in a Louisiana sweraP!
tis too horrible!"
For an instant his great pain over-
tense...him, and he lay panting and
almost lifeless, with. the scorching.
sun pouring on his upturned face,
While the wild-flewers and tender,
grasses about him were dyed with
the crimson tide that flowed from
his wound.
Oscar Glendenning . was fair"and
, handsome even with that awful pal-
lor on his face. His eyes were large
and blue, and the hair that waved .
back from his broad white brow was
thick, brown and luxuriant, and the
drooping brown4 moustache with its
eliding ends half revealed and half
poncealod a mobile mouth.
The pain of his wounds grew more
Intense as the hours wore on. He
Could not pray—he had forgotten
how to frame such sacred words—!but
. he cried out to Heaven to kill him •
then and there, and not take this
blow way of torturing him to mad- e
ness. The sun went down and the
liarknegs of night settled over the
dishial swamp; the dew fell on the
rank dowers whose very breath was
poison, and upon the upturned face
lying among the ivy and the deadly
hearing a human voice, a young,
sweet, girlish voice, frosh as a meae
dow-lark's, sounding nearer and
nearer.
He tried to calf Out to attract at-
tention, but the sound died away in
an alreost inaudible moan on his
ashen lips. ..
He heard the rustle of skirts and
the light patter of steps on the oth-
er side., of the great alder bushes
which shut him from view.
Oh, for the power to cry out, to
move! Another moment and she
would be beyond the sound of his
weak voice. Had the God whom he
had wronged full many a year no
mercy on him in his pitiful helpless-
ness, in this his hour of greatest
need? •
He tried to struggle to his feet,
but sunk beak with a terrible moan
.of 'pain. Great God! she was. passing
on! he was left to his horrible fate!
CHAPTER VIII.
The sound of that low, wailing
moan pierced the thicket of roses
and reach& the giel's ears.
"What noise was that; Towser?"
she cried, addressing the huge , dog
that bounded by her side.
Evidently the mastiff had caught
the sound, too, and in an instant he
had cleared the dense mass of creep-
ing vines to the other side. ,
Then a series of .loud barks brought
his young mistress to the place at
once.
"What have you found Towser?"
she exclaimed, parting tho tall bush-
es , with a very slim white haed;
"somo poor maimed bird or—"
Then her eYes fell upon the tall
figure Wing under the trees, with his
white, dow-wet face upturned tie the
sunlight.
"0k, ehat is the matter, sir? Are
you hurt?" cried the young girl, dis-
tressedly: "Am you ill?"
His Ape moved, but the only word
he could utter was "Help! Helot" as
he looked up into the pitying face of
the tall, slim, dark -eyed young girl
in the blue print dress; then the blue
eyes closed, and he fell back uncon-
scious among the thorns.
"Come, Towser, we must . go for
help," cried the gh•l, springing to
her feet, and in a flash mho was cross-
ing the dalsy-sthdtled fields -to an
old farm -house whose red chimney
could be outlined over the teees some
distance off; but hs she came in sight.
of the clover-flelds, shesaw her fa-
ther and ono of the farm-handsbusy
with the mowees there.
"Iley-clay! what's the Matter with
my little girl now?" exclaimed Farm-
er Gray kis she reached his, side,
flushed, panting, mid altuost speech-
less. "What's the dilemnia, now,
Neva?"
Quite as soon as she could reeover
her breath she. told them the start-
ling story• of the handsome young
stranger lying under the tree, dying
In the rice swainp. -
"Lend a Mild, iny hey," cried the
farmer, turning to his kelp; "We•Will
fetch the poor chap Up to the house;
mebbe that's lifeeht him yit. You go
ahead. to the farm -hoose: darter, an'
tell mother to fix up some place fer
the stranger."
The girl hurtled on td do his bid-
ding, and this farmer ahd hie help
made haste dotvii to the rice swamp
to the spot Which Miss Neva -had in-
dieated.
"He's a reggar City ehap," inutter-
ed John Ahderson, the "help," a lit-
tle huskily.
"Now dean't yea stand there
a-MuMblinw," tried the old farmer,
impat1ent13r, "but jest lend a hand
here; we Must Inter him to the hoes
without losin' a minit. almost
afeared that the ehap'S done for
ineerady.`h
TIM man Complied alleittly, tied
eloWly they bore the handsome
stranger to the old farm-lientne; and
rgOillf& Arm ILYA' 149.,
fox -glove,
Oscar Glendenning, lying there dy-
ingby inches, looked up at the
bright ,stars overhead and the pale
Moon that hung like a golden cres-
eint in tho azure sky, and shudder -
kith_
whe hight-wind sighed among the
trees, a nightingale sung on a. branch
ard by, swamp insects woke to life
ihmid the darkness and mingled
,their shrill piping with the notes of
Artie belated bird or shrill cry of a
,night -owl callihg' to ttS mate. Ser -
;gents rustled aniong the tall grass,
4 en -4 the wild animals that made their
homes in the marshes affixed one
.another through the brake and tate-
: lid Underbrush, stopping short in
. Wonder upon finding their rotreht fn-
. gacied by so strange a ereature ly-
•
4
flighTension
Nerves at
extra 'Wain meant coilaoass..,.
Reiteration obtained by usineDR.
4 A.W.OHASE'S NERVE FOOD
h, —keen and active—hut With too little
. often of the high -strafe? nervous typo
The suceessful men and women are
reserve foree.
A little extra worry no anxiety and
• snap goes the -nervous system. Weeks
and 3110iftlIS are often required before
• energy and vigor aro regained.
lest helps, so does fresh air arid
exercise, but the Mood must also be
rade rieli and red by use of Dr. A. W.
- Nerve rood.
Mr. Wm. Branton, Victoria St., Strath.
toy, Writes:** nervous Systent
seemed an unstrung. I meld not Sleep,
latA Tin ap.petite, my digestion was
poor and I had jerking of the limbs.. '
Dr. Chase's Neree Feed helped ma and
X continued until t had taken tweedy.
four boxes. This treatment has made
fic radical change in my condition, build.
ing up the system and 'strengthening •
the nerves." Dr. Chase's Nerve Food-,
ro cents a box, all dealers or Unita-
, son, Bates es Co., Toronto.
'
.411*n
onif
I •it • •
"Waal, Mister Roger Glan-dang-
ing," he began, cheerily, "you were
pretty badly used up, warn.'t you.
But we've got you Axed up fust -rate,
YOU see. That's your name on that
card, isn't it?"
• For an instant only' Oscar hesitat-
ed. It was a wretched mistake, hav-
ing his brother Roger's cardin his
pocket. More than twenty times he
had niade up his mind te tear it tip
and throw it away, but each time,
ere he could put this resolve into
execution, something had always
transpired to ‚cause him to put it off
to a more propitious time. As long
-as they had been that name on the
card, he might as well he known bY
it. Ay, it was best that they should
-know him by the name of Roger, for
were they not searching for Oscar
Glendenning? This might serve to
throw them off the track.
Thinking- he did not quite under-
stand, the farmer repeated his clues -
Recommended As
An Ideal Remedy
,
W. se atm, tea .
14loydtown, Ont., Starch zeth, tem).
"Por ionic years X have been greatly
troubled with headaches and indiges.
brought en by stomach disorders,
constipation and biliousness. / had
trieri many remedies with only iteliffer.
ent success, mail "Fruit -a -fives" tame"
to my notice. tieing a general store-
keeper, 1 was selling a good many
"Prttit-ietives" to mg customer, and,
temarking how pleased they were with
the results obtained from using "Fruit,
skives," 1 decided to try them and, X
might say, the effects were *West
magical. Headaches and biliousness
disappeared and to -da' t recommend
"Pruit.a-tives" to my customers as 'An
ideal remedy.'
"4/ might else add that about three
yams age 1 was load up with 1,nt,
DAGO AND SCIATICA—couldn't get
nut of bed or lift one foot over the
other. A good treatment of "Vrult-a,
titres" emed me of these talus and
banished the Sciatiest and teanbage so
that to -day I afil at well itevsr and eta
lift Lashing heeettery."
(Signed) W. S, tom
tion, wad Maar Glendenning bowed
I asSent; and on this nee point hange
all the pitiful ftequel which we mut
record in this; norretive.
"liev you friends you'd like to hev
weed out to by telegraph?" wee the
next inquiry; but to. OM Glendenning
shook hie head.
"1 heelren't a re4ative in the whuele
wide world, Nave a brother, and he is
trayeang somewluire in Furore," he
'articulated, faintly. "Ali! how MY'
shoulder and tinkle paint"
erf *di le et, ' V0U11
soon be on the mend, .young man,"
declared the fouler; "you'll be wen
attended to- by my No and her
mother, so make tile best. of it,"
"Was it your daughter. the dark -
eyed yourig girl, who saved me from
the terrible end fete seemed to haTe
in store for uteeh he asked, quickly,
"Yoe iny Neva found yon jest in
the nick 0' time, I recken," he ane
swered; "you had putty: ingh given
up tho ghost."
'Will you thank your young demob. -
ter for me?" asked Glendenning, earn-
estly. "S'ey to her, too, that 1 shall
be delighted to buy her a haucisoine
gift (as a souvenir for her kindle/ act
of Mercy) in the first village I come,
to when I leave here, and sendit to
her."
"You needn't to mind about that,
stranger," -returned the old fanner,
warmly; "anybody would a -done the
same thing fer -you ef they had hap-
pened along. You needn't to think
aboutma Ulf any p Loon , Marthy,
my wife, and 1 are only too glad to
do a, good turn for a follow-creetur,"
When the old farmer related this
conversation to his wife ang. (taught-er, out .in the dairy an hour later,
there was. only -one sentence that _
caught the girl's ear and held her
a,tte'tion, and that was that the,
handsome, fair-haired straueer had
no relatives; therefore he mus; be un-,
married,
From that hour a ray of sunshine
seemed to suddenly brighten the girl's
hitherto dull, gray, monotonous life'.
She was young, only nineteen, and
youth has its romantic day-drearns.
Ali, well, perhaps it is best so for
them comes a tizne into every life
when even these rosy day -dreams lose
their fragrance and fade before the
chill breath of reality.
Oscrir Glendenning, who had
lived such a gay life in the great
metropolis, this cool, quiet farm-•
houee, with,its homely, quaint people
(all save the daughter), seemed to
hiili as though he had suddenly drift-
ed into some new, strange world,
aznong a race of beings he could
scarcely comprehend.
It Wasterribly irksome for a man
sts impatient as himself to 'lie still in
that little =papered room, even
though it was cool and quiet, and
the view from the two open windows
afforded him an excellent opportunity
to watch the hay -makers at work,
and -the quiet charm of farm -life,
from dewy morning until the sun
went down and the dusk of night
crept up and hid the waving fields
from his sight.
But if it had not been for the
farmei'a pretty daughter Neva, he
would hhve died of ennui.
He couldhnot, help but notice how
graceful 'and supple the slender figure
was, and how soft end beautiful were
the great, bright hazel eyes whose
long dark lashes swept the rosiest of
cheeks. She was clever, too, in a
way: She could play the harp like
an angel, and her voice was as sweet ,
as the meadow -lark's when she Sung
for him. She did not know many
songs, only such as had been sung
from time immemoeial almost, such
as ,"The Old Folks at Home,"
"Kathleen Meyourneen," ;'would I
Could- be With Thee Alway," and
"Home, Sweet Home," urttil Mend-
eneing, man of the world ,though he
was, -almost felt the tears rush to
his eyes over the exquisite pa os o
that sweet young. voice.
"She is -indeed a child of nature,"
he told himself; and he fell to wond-
ering what sort of a .nian it would
be who would awaken that girlish
-heart t� love's sweethlreams. Prob-
ably some awkward.countryman. She
would 'wed hire and settle down, as
her people had done before her, to
quiet country life. She would put
away her harp, and the songs she
sung now would he forgotten till too
soon, Mr youth and her , beauty
would soon fade, lime would furrow
that White brow and tender mouth,
the wild -rose bloom. would die, from
the dimpled cheeks, and the light front
those beautiful dark eyes. Glenden-
ning often said to . himself that he
was thankful he would not know of
it; would not be there to see the
change, and he felt Sorry that she
coniatitlitiwnhcoit contitaldrryailsporeeetelateni4ceer ygoetionitgt
beauty, and e.in himselfin the
charms of inn. childish simplicitY.
It delighted her beyoed measure
when be would join, in his rich bary-
tone voice, lit -the chorus as She
sung.
NOVa would have liked nothing bet-
ter then to Sit by,t110 open window
end k.irig end play for him the live-
long ("ay. Mel not her mother con-
stentiv reminrfed her that there was
sotak thing more to be done than
alatiee the she( gentleman. There
cee the pigs, te stioll for the, farm
maul s dien.ir, the cherries to stone
ee• /,.es, end the cake to look
?I:er, to ea- 'nothing of the centeri-
ng nit 1 n thousand and one nines
o 'ter or for bliss+ hands to
..ecompi !eh.
'1.o son Wei this 11e1'' Menden.;
elite meelof her one eay, looking
e..".1.1.l'e":t.;;;;
akte.on iitt, t100114011
It0.• ,
qt; -a re
v.e,
••• ere, r felt e. e sill, ;Ihe
"ti: 1 '.7; I.: 110
.111
' in e.1 him utetfelly,
lXitWn
ee• (Y.P! VW* IM0W 0' no other,"
"I' IneVe rend a kw heolis,''' sbe ail-
qncl1y, "told they all were
,olt.11- • ...er ." ,e1tiee, red lovels,
eeetee ellen and flee gentlemeit who
le 1 1-0ei. peel the bells, nod the
e 0 v''"5 -U$( 1h0' ride iti. Afil
"' te life third; 1
toe,: re.„.. it sineetimen. t 'I•••,ve leeve.
1, • 1.07e,%kl, oda yet we .41,u nut ;47.'4;
. _ im4,4,010041P4**4444.01,414b1.414.4.k4,44.1k4F..§0i1.11,J404.1444
tweatrenght units Vara New Org
LOOMS. Father always refuses te take
me."
"Why does be refuse?" exclaimed
Glimdenning; "it is not treaties you
right. You ought to sus something
of New Orleans, at least, since it ia
within your power. I ean not urider-
stand why he objeete to it so *Oen"
overtly."
• "I ve'll tell you why," returned
Xt`Va,, commencing by saying: "Yoh
See that both my father and mother
are not very young. 1 lihve a sister,
dead. She Was a young lady before
was bora, and she cliecl many 4
year ago. She went to the city of
New Orleans to visit a city girl who
used to come out here every stormier,
and—and—she never came back to
the old home again. She Would -not;
she ivrinted to make her own living
by teaching the harli• in the great
city, and ere th3 summer sun Moue
again, she had crent back to the old
home to die. 'Thatiris her grave over
Yonder under the pines on the
side."
.CHAPTER IX,
"It is ci•uel that you should be
deprived of every pleasure because
satue one else met a sad • fate by
goalg to the city, Many a sailor is
lost at sea, but that does not doter
others from breasting the billows,
h pur fate 'would be different frora
that of the poor„ pretty girl who
saws under the daisies yonder. But
never mind; some day you will Marry,'
and your husband eon take 'mu to
tbe city. You are sh bright, so
.vivacietts, , you would enjoy life
there."
Neva blushed red as, a ruse, look-
ing shyly at him froni berientli . her
dark, curling lashes, but could find
no words in which to answer him.
Days lengthened into weeks and the
weees into months. For tsvo mouths
Oscar Glendenning had, tarried -be-
neath that roof, loath to leave the
little red farm -house half buried be-
neath the trailing eose-vine and guld-
en -hearted honeysuckles, though he
hail been able to vise both arm and
'ankle long since.' And at last it be-
caine whispered about among the
farm -banns that there 'was an at-
traction itt the old farm -house for
the handsome city chap, and that the
atti•actioit was Neva, Farmer Gray's
prrttY daughter, •
John' Anderson, one of the helpers
on the farm, heard these whispers
with compressed lips and darkening
brow, bending . his head still lower
over his work, but speaking no word.
Neva was but a little child when
he' had Come to work for Farmer
Gray, ten years before, and he was a
lacl of Severiteen. For ten years be
had watched her grow in health and
beauty, and he had learned to love
her as the apple of his eye. He lied
been very fregal, and had laid by a
goodly little sum etgainst a. rainy
day, He had his day -dreams, too,
and they were golden ahd roseate as
the flush of a sunny summer inorn-
ing. His heart was in his work; he
was toiling hard to save enough to
bey the little farm across the, way;
and then, perhaps, Neva Gray would
inarrY hire, he often said to himself;
a.nd he whistled away or sung snatch-'
es of song over his work, quire as
happy as the day was long. ,
-But from the moment the city chalh
crossed the threshold of tho old red
farm -house, life had gone wrong with
hitn. Neva. did not come down any
more to the stile to watch hint as he
drove home the cows, nor linger in
the deep Meadow grassfor a little
chat as he wended his way home from
• rk. through the fields It was all
different now. The city chap,..thend-
enning, was always by her side, from
early morning until the bright stars
came out in the sky. John Ander-
son bent his head lower and lower
over his toil, 'and his lips grew, more
coniprossed, and his nature more
morose. No one knew of the terrible
blight theft had fallen oVer him, eat -
leg at his heart like a worm at the
heart of a sturdy tree.
He grew to hate Glendenning with
a deadly hatred born' of direful jeal-
ousy. He hated his white, soft hands,
handsome Mai and fine ways, and he
longed for tite time when he should
go on his way, leaving the old rod
farm -house and the treasure it Con-
tained farbehind him. Once away, .
-frOm her, lie' felt quite aline that he
would soon forget the pretty, win-
some face of lovely Neva Gray, As
for the girl,' she might miss him- for
scanY a day, but in time her .life
would' drift"back once more trite the
same old channel in w'hich it had Mei
fim •uneventful before the handsome
Stranger had crossed her path,
Nova's, father, too, had begun to
wonder why the stranger tarried be-
neath his roof now that he was tier-
fectlY able to resume his journey. 'rho
farmer'S Wild grew a trifle uneasy,
too. S'he did net like to see Neva
strolling about under the light of the
moott with the fascinating stranger.
The girl's happy. ringing laugh grat-
ed harshly on her ears. At last she
spoke to her .husband about the mat-
ter, and was quite surprised to learn
that he, tem, feared that Mr. Gleed -
clueing was making himself altogether
too agreeable to Neva, and they bah
agreed that it could do no herrn to
suggest to the handsoMO stranger
that -he had no reaseti to linger loitge
er, and that he Was in good condi-
tion to go where he liked, both arm
and ankle being entirely well. And
to make his leaving them imperative-,
the farmer had concluded 'to say that
a party frobi the city, Who always
engaged that room every year at
that season, had written to say that
they Might expect him any day. Ile
could not well teinalh after that.
Glendenning listened to the citek.
%mistily worded fahricatiern with Melee
thing very like it covertsmile on the
lip his fair,drooping moustaphe etat-
crest. if •
"I was just about to tell you that
t leave you to -Morrow," he Said,
SilaVeLV. Ile could have laughed out-
right to flee the farmer's honest old
fkice brighten, etrive hard as he could
to repress his 'delight at this 'Mollie
genm
-wen nties you a home, Mr. Glend-
enning, 13tit I' allow you'll be glad
to git back %long your friends," he
said.
"I Oen teeme babied me the pituk
'satiated Who& Ilene %Wee kesteae.'
Glendenning staid, feeeliant457-
"I reekon ameryborly beresabontsli
be powerful *wry to sae you go."
saki the farraer, vigoreneflY
et his pipe.
For a little while eilence fan bee
tween them. and Glendenning tack
his hat and senolled out into the
grountle. Down by the gate NOYa
was waiting or etin, as he knew elm
would be.
"I have been here an hour, /4r.
Clilendenning," kao said, pouting 4
little. "I-1—a1luoste thought yoe
heel forgotten me."
"Mister!" he repeated, reproachful-
ly. "Why so formal on this day,
above all others, Neva? You pain
me; and as to forgetting you, am I
not about to prove to you to-claht
that it, will be impossible for me ever
to forget you, in this world or the
next?"
The little hand on the gate crept
couliclingly into his. Ilex. pretty head
drooped, and she looked up at him
shyly with her dark, bright, eyes.
el am going to make you my wile
to -day, Neva," he said, with diguitY.
"That Is proof Positive that I can
never forget you."
"It 5001115 a little hard not to say
anything to father or mother about
it," murmured the girl, ruefully;
"and not exactly right, Roger" this
falteringly. "1 wish we did not have
to loop it a secret."
It lei I only be for a, little while,
answered Gleudenning. "Surely, 11
you love me, Neva, you will make so
slight a sacrifice uncomplaMingly for
me,"
The girl sighed.
"I'erhaps vou know best, Roger,"
-,he said, adding, after a little pause:
"Would you mind telling ole one
thing that 1 would give the world
to know?"
"I will tell you anything you ask
of me," he replied.
"Thon tell tee if you ever lovee
any other girl but. me?" breathed
hem, softly.
nor an instant a dead silence feu •
between them as they walked slowly
arm in arm together down the coun-
try path. Only }leaven knows what
impulse prompted him. to answer her .
Cruthfully, when the aimple woed
"No" would have saved him 'so much
ex,yp,laes,xe
netion;a.
I have loved before 1
met you," he answered, keocking of
the heads of the daisies recklessly
with his walking -stick, "I loved a
proud and beautiful girl who did not
care for inc. She laughed at my de-
claration of love end turned. my
words against me into a line joke.
We niet often after that, but I never
resutned the subject. • She WAS too
haughty and I was too proud, and
no one ever knew that I had dared
to love her, not OVSM her father."
''What was her name?" asked
Nva, huskily.
He hesitated. Was it best to tell
little Neva? • Ab, well, why net.
'they would never meet; the whole
width of the world would soon .be
lyieg between' them.
"Will You not tell me?" whispered
Neva, wistfully,
"Her name was Olive Kneeland,"
he answered.
She repeated it softly under her
breath, telling herself that she shouid
haver forget that name.
What a beautiful Sabbath day it
was! How bright the sun loohed
'sailing in the cloudless sky overhead;
how its bright beams twinkled, and
how joyously the song -birds twitter-
ed. in the green boughs overhead, as
though sorrow was unknown to them.
them was to be n, camp -meeting
down :the road, and all the farmers
for notes around would be there, and
after it was over and they had gone
to their different homes, Glendenning
had planned that the marriage should
tike plaeo.
He was realty fond of the pretty,
innocent young creature, she had cast
such a strange influence over him. lie'
had never eeperieneed such an odd
smsation before, partly of awe and
partly ,of worship, and he had met
lelvely women the world titer. Fur
the 'first time in his life, Oscar
Glendenning felt his own unworthi-
ness. He wished he had led a better
'life, Her greatest charm for him lay
'n the fact that Cu.? girl know notig
ing whaTever of the peat world out-
side. She was 8 child of nature, and
as free front guile as an angel. It
had puzzled him 'from the first to
know how to talk to her, what to
sny to her. Ile never attempted to
fleeter het' as he had flattered ether
young 'girls. Her quaint thoughts
and netless Way of riirasieg them
Cl :a.t%atea him compktely, and he
/wen said to himself that had he
net her years before life would have
been different with him. Ile was in
&LIMY Mar lest she should ever find
oet what his past life had been, or
of the crime that hong even then,
like a dark, formidable cloud, owe
his guilty head. He would never
have thought of fishing her to link
her bright young lire with his, had
not thetears sprung to her lovelY
darn eyes mid her hp quivered when
he told her he was going away, and
had brought her out under the ap-
ple -trees to say good-bye to her
alone. She turned her head awae,
anitthenostood sawherlovely face grow
p
leaning against the
trunk id a tree and watched her.
"Will you be sorry when 1 aftt
gotten he asked, slowly.
It neve occurred to her to an-
swer anything but the simple truth.
"The old farm -house will never be
the same to me again," she answer-
ed, faintly,
"Did my present brighten your life,
Neva?" he asked huskily,
was like the sunshine breaking
ever one's life after it dull, Cold,
gray morning; but after you go the
sun 'will set for me."
Still leaning against the tree, ho
48kedo' sioliea
re •noyre for me, tievar
She looked up at him with startl-
ed eyes, then buried her face in her
little, trembling hatitte,, sted her dark
head nodded in the affirmative.
"Do yott care for me enough to
mayry ma to -morrow?" het asked,
bluntly.
She raised her lace from her hand*
and looked at him in amazement.
. .
•
e
hjp2feNkrk 4
=
"Ina yg•doee of it • g
141 abaridye. plat
I
vo nen hine
to, dad& eyou 'iv,
160'4 taa hum/e witlew ;
you will neaieg flee " IL) J
say, 'Yee,' 1 whit 4ehite
thleelherheeffe4shiehellJeil t44 sh •
married."
"rather 4434 nelettiae
comma teeetee-ieo sadden
Age," stemma:wad theele
ite
rm
heL/344$ nervously toseti,cr. _
"You must not atik theme •
to nee blindly. They ramie noel Inge
They mi-glit refuse to -give Yen
me, a strength. But ghee
they call not help but forgive
- would not counsel you to 4
that I believed wrong, Fre= ' '
time on my life will be devot.ed trk
you, if you consent, Is it yea, imr
- no?" s
For answer the girl plaeed her. It** e
tle hand in his, looking up fearless** .
ly into his lace.
'What you want MO to do must be
ght and do it she
anin a low voice.'"I—I---will Mari%
you, if that will keep you here ale i
ways, for mylife Would be iso lonely;
without you./
The girl spoke the words choking.
ly, out of the fullness of her heart,'
and theywere adinission enough to
Glendenning to assure him that alio
loved him.
"May you never regret it, Nevagen ,
he answered, fervently. "My ilfe
the past has not been, what it should,
have been, but- from this hour all ,
that shall be changed, so help me
Godl You will realm a good an oe
me, Neva!"
CHAPTER X.
- It was the most enthusiastic camPe
meeting that had been held there-,
about for years, all the farmers and .
their wivee and their daughters dee
dared, as they clambered into their
wagons and carry -ails and jogged
slowly homeward. The old traveling
evangelical minister was a success,
they voted, and they would hhve
been well pleased to have heard him
again.
As for the minister himself, he was
glad to see the country people •en- ,
joy his- okhortations so thoroughly..
And he wondered, too, why the fair-
haired, handsome young man end
the pretty, •dark-ened young girl
should linger after all the rest had
departed to talk with him; and yet,
after a 'few desultory remarks had
been made, he was not so very muck
surprised when he was called upon
to wed them. He was only too will-
ing, and bid them clasp each oth-
er's hands and stand before him.
Despite the firm pressure of Glen-
depning's fingers closing over her
oft, tho girl trembled. It was such
a solemn thing, this marriage cere-
mony. How blue the shy looked
throe& the network of green leaves,
and how green the grass was bee
heath her feet, with its nodding dais-
ies and harebells end timid butter-
cups. It seemed to take the old. min-
ister an ago to adjust his spectacles,
epee the sacred Doc*, and had the
plat And 111 the interim how the
face u; the heavens changed! The
sun hid his face behind a cloud and -
the light of the summer day dark-
eneu; the wind sighed among the
branches of the trees, like spirits in
distress; a bird that was twittering
but a moment since on a bough ov-
er her head flew• off with a startled
cry. But neither the cloud, nor the
wind, nor the bird warned the girl(
that she was taking a step which
she would rue in anguish more bit-
ter than death during all the years
of her after life.
"Make haste if you please, good
sir," exclaimed- Glendenning, impa-
tiently. "It is blowing up for a
storm and it will be down upon us
before we can reach home."
"The 'knot will be tied as quickly ,
as it. can be 'done, sir," returned the
minister, who had by this time
found the place in his book.
Five minutes, and the words were
uttered which tould never be unsaid, *
and Neva, fair, innocent Neva, waa
the lawfully wedded wife 'oE Gift- 1
donning. Then the old gentleman .1
drew from his pocket a package of ;
merriage certificates and proceeded
to fill one .out.
"I have so Many affairs of this
kind to attend to as I travel about
from village to village that I al-
ways carry them about with me
nowadays,". he explained.
Here, again, an unexpected,dileme
ma presented itself. Oscar Glenden-
ning was obliged to give the name
of Roger instead of his own. For an
instant he had hegitated when the
question of name chme up. .l.
"It can not matter in point' of laW,
whether I say Roger or Oscar," he
said to himself. "It is the man My,
little Neva is marrying, net the
name. I can straighten alf that out
later in explaining the matter to
her." He did not wish to startle
her by mentioning it at that all-im-
portant epoch of their lives. And
upon this one point, dear reader,
rests all the sorrow of the girl's fu-
ture. Only a few words! Ale! how
much they mean to the two stand-
ing there. Then the old minister pro-
nounced them man and wife until
death did them part.
"May you have 4 happy life of
It," he added, plaeing his trembling
hand upon the gil'l's derk head. She
thanked him through' her happy
tears. The certificate was duly inade
out mut handed to her, and he
watched them tierhand in hand, they
turned (min him tit leeagth and walk-
ed down the numnolia-bordered road
together—watehed them until a bend
in the road hill them from hie view.
"May Heaven find pardon for the
thought, but i do not quite like his
face," he muttered, as he mounted
his home and rode slowly ,away itt
an opposite direetion. "The -girl Is
like ft mountain snow -drop, with it
$10111 as pure and white, While he te
of the World, worldly to the heart's
eere. Nature never makee a miisteke
ift her handwriting on the human
• Mee, find fate either marked that
man for a eriminaI or n grget gen-
ius, T hardly knovr .which, liandsome
and polished though he be. I meet
erh("ilawilinerrrital:trithltrtdIri o th:rtouta"tv
fTe be Coutteutel.)..
'8110 •
r
4