The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-03-20

always; and plain though she was, Miss
Jane was good, true woman, and has
never lifted her head or looked at An
other man since those sad days"
sis that really trueP'
"No call to misdoubt it, sir; anvona
in the village will tell you the same
story, and, as said before, twas
pity, seeing as everything has worked
round right, that it was not on Miss
Jane as he set his affections; for beino
so plain, as you might say, mayha5
there would not have been such great
objection to his having herr
The stranger made no reply, appar-
emily being lost in thought over Farmer
Sisted last words. And he continued:
"He would not have been such bad
match in those days for her, at least;
for he was fine, gallant-looking young
chap, with a pleasant word for every-
one."
"You remember himP''
eyes, well. l never thought very ill
of him, myself. A hasty word, blow,
these come over-quickly when the blood
is young"
"Do you think am like himPn The
speaker drew himself up, and stood
looking with something almost like anx-
iety into Farmer Stisteds red, amely
face. "When l knew him." he s'ded,
"we used to be often thought t. n
bic one another.
Il cannot see it myself, SIR" said
Mr. Sisted, slowly; " but then, sir,
begging your pardon, it is not easy to
draw comparisons between the young
and the DID,"
The man addressed unfolded his
arms, and leant once more against the
style, heaving quick impatient sigh as
he did so. 'FIti is fortunate, is it not,
Mr.. Sisted, that hearts do not alter as
quickly as faces doP"
"Nay, sir, l cannot see as you're
right there. Hearts grow older along
with the faces they belong to, else hus-
bands and wives would not get along
as well as they do. AS we grow older
ourselves, we do not miss the youth in
the face opposite; leastways. don't in
Maggie's," said the farmer, simply.
Perhaps that is because you see the
youth still there; you remember it, you
see. But ifyou had grown old far apart,
it would perhaps have been differ
ent."
"May be-" replied Mr.. Sisted,
doubtfully, apparently little out of
his depths. "But come, it is time l
was back at the farm. Perhaps you
would like a bit of breakfast with us,
sirP There'll be but little doing in the
village yet awhile, and my wife win be
glad to see you"
The stranger accepted the proffered
hospitality, and he and the farmer
turned away together.
Maggie proved quite as hospitable as
her husband had predicted, and when
breakfast had been partaken of, and Mr..
Sisted had gone out to his work, the
stranger found himself lingering on still,
talking to sweet, placid-faced Margaret
Sisted.
He had half mind to ask her about
this village tragedy that was occupying
his mind this morning; but "better
not" he decided, ",better wait now"
And he had waited SO long, that little
longer could not make much difference.
So he just dawdled on about the farm
and the pleasant farm garden long
enough for the days work to be well in
hand, and then he wished his hostess
Goodbye" and with quick impatient
steps took his way to the village.
Once there, he walked straight to the
footpath across the meadows that led
up from Bythorpe Village to Bythorpe
Manor; but at the entrance-gate he
paused, and gazed with tender eyes at
the little house on the opposite side of
the road, that exactly faced him-the
little creeper-covered cottage where
the Doctors widow lived.
He even made one half-step toward
it; but "No," he murmured, "she
comes first. We will go there to-
gether." But still he fingered, as if
longing to pierce the mystery of those
drawn blinds; and even as he thus
paused there was the sound of horses
feet, and there came in view, down the
narrow street, a carriage drawn by two
fine chestuuts.
Before it, the village children fell
hastily back, and, standing on one side,
gazed with mingled awe and admira-
ton. And assuredly it was sight to
call forth admiration, for everything
seemed so perfect; the carriage itself,
the prancing horses, the falr-haired
girl, so like the young, lovely mother
by whose side she sat, the two little
golden-headed children opposite. There
was surely no fault to be found any
where.
Only. to a wayfarer standing by the
roadside gazing at them, the sun seemed
of sudden to be darkened in heaven,
the earth to have lost the beauty of
summers morn.
"Helen!' he cried, in tones of an
guish wrung from breaking heart, but
she did not hear.
She saw him, of course, for she was
looking at him, wondering, maybe, who
this stranger was in familiar little By
thorpe. But that was all.
The dust from the carriage wheels
made thick the air for a moment, and
when it cleared away the vision had
vanished. ...
"Who isitp' he questioned, when he
could command his voice, turning to a
villager standing by his side.
lyon ladyP Lady Edmeade. She's
goin' to Lunnon. She was daughter of
the old 'Squire's," he added, land
married Sir Wilfred Edmeade."
Has she been married longr