The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1880-01-08
s ESTABLISHED IN
I MARCH, 1917.

the great up line to London. The
nearest town, Thymebury itself, was
seven miles distant along the branch
they call the Vale of Thyme Railway.
1t was now nearly half an hour past
noon, the down train had Just gone
by, and there would be no more traffic
at the junction until half past three,
when the local train comes in to meet
the up express at quarter before
four. The stationmaster had already
gone off to his garden, which was half
a mile away in the hollow of the
moor; a porter, who was Just leaving,
took charge of the phaeton, and prom
ised to return it before night to Nase-
by House; only deaf, snuffy, and
stern old man remained to play pro-
priety for Dick and Esther
Before the phaeton had driven off,
the girl had entered the station and
seated herself upon a bench. The
endlesss empty moorlands stretched
before her, entirely unenclosed, and
with no boundary but the horizon.
Two lines Of rails, a wagon shed, and
a few telegraph posts, alone diversified
the outlook. As for sounds, the 81
lence was unbroken save by the chant
OF the the telegraph wires and the cry
ing Of the plovers on the waste. With
the approach Of midday the wind had
more and more fallen, it was now
sweltering hot and the air trembled in
the sunshine.
Dick paused for an instant on the
threshold Of the platform. Then, in
two steps, he was by her side and
speaking almost with sob.
Esther he said, ''have pity on me.
What have | done? Can you not for
give me? Esther, you loved me once
can you not love me still?"
How can l tell you? How am
to know?" she answered. "You are
all a lie to me-all lie from first to
last. You were laughing at my folly,
playing with me like child, at the
very time when you declared you loved
ME. Which was true? was any Of it
true? or was it all, all mockery?
[ am weary trying to find out. And
you say l loved you; | loved my
fathers friend | never loved, | never
heard of, you, until that man came
home and | began to find myself de-
ceived. Give me back my father, be
what You were before, and you may
talk of love indeed!''
"Then you cannot forgive me-can-
not?" he asked.
Il have nothing to forgive" she
answered. "You do not understand" :"
rs that your last word, Esther?"
said he, very white and biting his lip
to keep it still.
"Yes, that is my last word" replied
she.
''Then we are here on false pre-
tences, and we stay here no longer"
he said. Had you loved me right or
wrong, | should have taken you away,
because then | could have made you
happy. But as it isl must speak
plainly-what you propose is degrad-
ing to you, and an insult to me, and
rank unkindness to your father Your
father may be this or that, but you
should use him like fellow-creature"
What do you mean?" she flashed.
Il leave him my house and all my
money; it is more than he deserves. [
wonder you dare speak to me about
that man. And besides, it is all he
cares for; let him take it, and let me
never hear from him again"
Il thought you romantic about
fathers" he said
rs that taunt?' she demanded.
No." he replied, 1T is an argument.
No one can make you like him, but
don't disgrace him in his own eyes.
He is, old, Esther, old and broken
down. Even | am sorry for him, and
he has been the loss of all | cared for.
Write to your aunt; when | see her
answer you can leave quietly and nat
urally, and | will take you to your
aunt's door, But in the mean time
you must 90 home. You have no
money, and so you are helpless, and
must do as | tell you; and believe me,
Esther, / do all for your good, and
your good only, so God help me-"
She had put her hand into her
pocket and withdrawn it empty.
Il counted upon you," she walled.
you counted rightly then," he re-
torted. II will not, to please you for
a moment, make both of us unhappy
for our lives; and since cannot marry
you, we have only been too long away,
and must go home at once"
Dick" she cried suddenly, "per-
haps might-perhaps in time-per-
haps-
'There is no perhaps about the mat
ter" interrupted Dick. Il must go
and bring the phaeton. "
And with that he strobe from the
station, al in glow of passion and
virtue. Esther, whose eyes had come
alive and her cheeks flushed during
these last words, relapsed in a second
into state of petrifaction. She re-
mained without motion during his alb
sence, and when he returned suffered
herself to be put back into the phae-
ton, and driven off on the return jour
ney like an idiot or a tired child. Com
pared with what she was now, her
condition of the morning seemed pos
itively natural. She sat white and
cold and silent, and there was no spec
ulation in her eyes. Poor Dick failed
and failed at the pony, and once tried !
to whistle, but his courage was going
down; huge clouds of despair gathered
together in his soul, and from time TO
time their darkness was divided by a
piercing flash of longing and regret.
He had lost his loye-he had lost his
love for good.
The pony was tired, and the hills
very long and steep, and the air sui
trier than ever, for now the breeze
began to fail entirely. 1t seemed as
if this miserable drive would never be
done. as if poor Dick would never be