The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1877-03-01
CHAPTER II.

en- place to a bleak, wintry night, and
the snow dashed sharp and cutting into
. the faces of the Rector and his old pu-
. pill, John Westmacott, as they whirled
along the dreary Scottish road from the
railway station to the rectory.
"Now, Doctor" exclaimed Jack,
merrily, tlet me take the reins while
you tell the news. Remember the
roadP Aye, every stone of it, as if l
had travelled it but yesterday. How
kind it was of you on such night to
come and meet me. How jolly | feel
TO see old Caithness again. What song
is that May used to sing about there
being no place like homer Neither is
there And how is May-bless her
hearth Older, of course; and pretty,
1 will swear"
"Well, all the change you will find
in her, Jack, is for the better; and L
have one piece of news that will sur
prise you, perhaps, but think l will
leave it for May herself to tell, or your
own eyes to read"
Why did John Westmacott start and
grow anxiously nervous for that news
and no other? r. ~
eNay, Doctor" he remarked, re-
member how long 1 have been away,
and don't tantalize me. What is it?
Does it concern--concern May?"
AYES, Jack. She is engaged to be
married." rl-
John Westmacott gripped the reins
so sharply that the horse reared. 1t
gave excuse for his temporary silence;
then rather huskily came the interroga-
ton:
"To whom, DoctorP"
"Your friend, Thomas Mildmay."
"My friend!" muttered the ex-pupil
between his teeth; "curse him!" Then
aloud: How long has she been en-
gagged, Doctor?"
"Only since you have been on your
voyage home, dear boy, or she would
have written to tell you. You will have
to wish her joy"
al do, and''-but thisunder his breath
sc him. He has robbed me of her."
1t was so. John Westmacott had
come back to the home of his child
hood, the love of his youth. In those
days he had termed her his little wife;
laughingly she had accepted the title.
In nothing had he been more serious.
During ali his absence, while fighting
for that fortune he had realized, amid
care and trouble, one idea had upheld
him-the returning to England and
marrying May Westleigh. He had
never doubted that she knew Of and re-
ciprocated his affection. He had come
back to find his happiness scattered to
the winds.
How he went through the evening
that ensued, he never knew. How he
calmly kissed the cheek May in all in
nocence presented to "her brother;"
how quietly he listened TO the story of
the holly-bough; and how he took
Thomas Mildmay's hand was mystery
he never unraveled. All seemed the
act of another person, not himself.
Only when be found himself unexpect-
eddy alone with May, just before leay-
ing, did he lose his sef-con-
troll. Flinging out his hands
towards her, he cried bitterly;
"May, why have you thus deceived
me? You knew loved you. Why did
you not warn me of this? Why let me
return to be so cruelty disappointed!
Why of all men did you select Thomas
Midway, who knew my secret? He is
a crafty coward to have won you from
me; but, by Heaven, he shall rue his
treachery."
"Jack!" exclaimed the girl, pale
and alarmed, "what do you mean?"
THAT love you, May; have always
loved yOu-must love you to my dying
hour"
Before she had OWNED his intent, he
had taken her in his arms, pressed a
kiss on her forehead; then he had gone,
and the girl, full Of grief, dropped
weeping on a chair. A voice aroused
her. Looking up, she beheld Thomas
Alildmay by her side. His face was
very white, his brows contracted, his
lips compressed.
"May," he said, hoarsely, "I have
heard every word. was yonder, ="
pointing to the conservatory. "What
is all this? What does he mean by
your deceiving him?"
"Tom, l know no more than you;
unless he has taken childish joke in
seriousness. Papa shall set him
right"
"No; he has called me a coward,
accused me of worse. The task must
be mine, and the explanation and apol-
ogy must be made tonight"
He moved away. She tried to
stay him, but for once he was
deaf to her voice. The outer door
banged, and, striding over the snow,
Thomas Mildmay followed John West
macott, who, with a persistency for
which an old tutor could not account,
refused a bed at the Rectory, and had
started for the village.
The snow had ceased, but tempest
of wind had arisen; the leafess trees
seemed like wands before it, and the
waves were heard breaking in bursts
like thunder upon the shore, not mile
distant. The sky was clear and drear,
only the earth was white. mountain
stream, which, when the rains or SHOWS
came, swelled into the dimensions of a
river, iHtersected the road leading from
the rectory to the village, and on this
night it rushed and eddied in waving
foam between its banks and the sea.
Spanning its flood was rustic bridge,