Litchfield enquirer., 1878-04-04

haeds of the sturdiest flowers in the little gar
 den below my window, and washing all the gravel off the sloping walks. Thunder rever- berated round the hills, and vivid flashes of l lightning shot across the sky. A thunder storm is never SO magnificent as among the mountains; and the echoes repeated again and again till they died away in the distance, seemed almost continuous. It lasted long. | Peal after peal succeeded each other; the birds | frightened and bewildered, flew from branch
 to branch to seek the smallest shelter, and | sent forth melancholy chirps, as though to re- | assure themselves. | By breakfast time the rain had moderated
 and the thunder storm was over, and 1 went out to enjoy the well-known pleasantness of l the air after it, and to notice the damage | my poor flowers had sustained. As stood l tqere 1 saw figure hurrying toward me, with | plaid thrown over her head. It was Jean. l She was looking white, and spoke in 8 quick
 and agitated way. Mrs. Grant was i'll, and ] would like much to see me. She had.had news; and I saw that the news, whatever it 1 was, had affected Jean equally. In a few
 minutes was ready, and we walked the short
 est way to Burnside. As we came near the
 cottage, Jean said in low voice, Kenneth 1 is married d-he is coming home ;" and, leaving my side, entered alone. Winter than usual 1 Mrs. Grant could hardly look; but there was great distress in her keen blue eyes, and in the helpless, beseeching way in which she stretch ed out her hands. ..... 1 ''Tell Jean she must stay" were almost her
 first words and it then at once occurred te me
 that his coming home might bring about pain | full complications; and that if Kenneth had l forgotten, Jean still loved
 Kenneth's marriage had been a surprise, but when Mrs. Grant put his letter into my hands, | and begged me to read it, quite understood the pain it must have caused her. He wrote 1 in sad and Responding way-was evidently sorry for his young wife-found itimpossible to
 remain there, surrounded by her relations l began several times to send message to Jean, | carefully scratching out what he had begun; | and finally, leaving all unsaid, he ended by | hoping his grandmother would be kind, and
 make allowances. It was letter written in
 such evidently low spirits, and the want of happiness was so painfully manifest, that it was quite sad to read.
 1 sat long and talked with the old woman.
 She told me Jean never would listen to Ken
 meth but even she did not know why. She
 was sure she liked him. She thought some one
 had made mischief. Altogether, it was com
 fort to her to talk1t over with me and though
 I felt utterly incapable of giving advice, once ] the reserve she usually showed was broken in- l to, she opened up to me more of her own
 thoughts and feelings than had ever yet seen and the confidence comforted her. went down by the burn side, intending to
 speak to Jean, but stopped when saw her sit-
 ting, her face buried in her hands. AS she
 heard my footsteps, she raised herself up. She
 had so sad, so despairing looks that felt l
 could not speak to her just then. Her lips
 parted, and, raising her eyes, she murmured, 50
 low that could hardly catch the words, "A
 day will come when we will know the reason of
 all, and went slowly up the bank, her head
 dropping and her hands clasped together, as
 though endeavoring to suppress her excite ment.
 When I arrived at home, found a telegram
 summoning me south. The dearest friend 1
 possessed had been severely injured in rail-
 way accident and within few hours 1 was
 going to him, my thoughts too fully occupied to think of Burnside.
 Winter had come early. Storms had already
 caused havoc among the shipping and brought
 distress to many home. l was plodding my way through the daily cares and troubles of my
 large parish, when one day received letter
 from Jean reminding me of promise 1 had
 made her of doing her favor, and entreating
 me to get her place, ever so humble it did
 not matter.
 Her letter distressed me- It was written in
 such evident sorrow-not word of Kenneth
 and his wife, and of Mrs. Grant only that, she
 was much the same.
 Perplexed by her letter, still had it before
 me, when 1 heard hustle in the little hall, and my friend Mir. Macrae, the minister of the beautiful parish where had spent those we'll remembered Summer months stood before me, his coat sprinkled with snow, his color raised
 by the frosty air and look of quiet happiness that told me at once his long engagement was
 drawing to an end. He had come to try and persuade me to take his duty for one fortnight, and was delighted to find small persuasion
 needed
 Two days more saw me on my way. Not
 long after 1 started most violent snow storm
 set in. So long as we were in the railway our progress was pretty good but with something
 like forty miles of coaching through the widest
 scenery, and over road that divided tremen- dous hills it became work of the greatest diff
 ficulty. Gangs of men had to accompany us,
 and every now andthen wewere obliged toget
 out and allow the coach to be cut out of the drifts. When night came we had to spend it in miserable little inn, where the peat-smoke
 having no proper Outlet made the air of the
 room nearly intolerableand the only provisions
 were oat-cAke, very hard cheese, and whisky.
 As this last was thing l never touched, was
 delighted to find that a spring of clear water
 rose near the house. and that, though surrounds
 ed by icicles, it was obtainable.
 Next morning we pushed on, to find, as is OUCH LIe CdSe near bue sea, LHdL the snow ndQ given place to rain which was pouring down ptilessly, and never did so rejoice over well come as on that weary day when I found my self greeted by a splendid fire, cloth that ri- | yaled the snow, and most excellent tea with bannoeks and all sorts of home comforts before | me, from kippered salmon to home made mar
 malade.
 The next morning wasone ofunceasing rain | Early in the afternoonthe old servant with ev- | ident reluctance. brought me message man | wished to see me. It was Kenneth. As is | usually the case, he was completely different | from the idea had in my own mind conceived | of hin-tall and fair, with sunburnt face, and the manner and appearance of man who had seen good deal of the world-one of natures gentlemen, in outward semblance at any rate He came to see me, and to tell me of old Mrs
 Grants evidently approaching end. Then, with | lowered voice, he spoke of Jean, and with | frankness said that the position at home was 1 intolerable to her. Without casting blame on | his wife, he showed me that Jean could findno home with her if old Mrs. Grant died, and ask 1 ed me what could be done.
 had often seen the sore need that existedn l a chlldren's hospital near me for just such a 1 person as Jean, and spoke to him of it. He l bent his head little, and 1 saw. that the idea
 of any service so far from him gave him an acute pang, and that he put force on himself l and was trying to think It was for the best. l Something l said brought out the fact that
 his wife's people in Australia were not very re- 1 spectacle, and flash in his eyes showed that
 certain remembrances were not pleasing. All
 at once he flung back his hail, and standing up, 1 said to me, ''You are very kind, Sir, and the l truth is best My wife's father is ticket-of-
 leave man. She is very young, and does not 1 know the shame"
 l grasped his hand, and, as he was leaving,
 he said, Do you know, Sir, why Jean held
 out-why Jean would not marry me? Her fath- CT is living; he is shut up for crime, but they
 could not punish him, for he has not his wits 1 He is a criminal lunatic"
 l could not speak for a moment; then said, "Does Jean know? I mean about your wife
 An angry look gleamed in his eyes, and he
 said, s'She told Jean when she was angry the 1 nther fla1r Gha ;s l,,s sa;d