The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1880-03-31

M. l,
was back II khe fatp1. Perhaps you
nQald Ike a,bit'ei 6feakfastwith us,
sirI TAerell be but liitla doing III
the village yet awhile, and my wife
win be glad o see yep.'l
The stranger accepted Tue pfodercd
hospitality, and he and She farmer
turned away together.
Maggie pEpSgdadite:as hcSpitabl
as.hsf'husband had pFedicted, and
|Rhsusbreakfast bad been ,partaken
|of, and Mr. Stisted had gone out 81 !,
[hisWctk, the stranger found himself
lingering on stin. talking to- swssl,
|placid:facsd Margaret Sisted.
He had half amipa to ~ her
abSps' this village stegedy that Nss
sing his lpihd This mefsidf;
"a y petter tiQt'iiy' be decided. ''0e| y,
wal nov. And he had wEited IS
long, that.a little longer could hot
make much difference. s3
sohe just dawdled on aboutths
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, 10
the footpath across the meadowsthas
led up from rom Bythorpe Village to By
thorpe, Manor; butat the entrance
gate he paused,Fand gased with ten.
der eyesat the little .house on the
opposite side of the road, chat exactly
faced him-the little cseeper. covered
cottage where the the Doctors widow
lived. =
= Z -
He even made one half-step toward
it, but "No,o he murmured, "&e
comes first. We will go there to.
geshen' 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 chestnusts.
Reforeiit, the village children fell
hastily back, and standing on one
side, gazed with mingled awe and
admiration. And assuredly. it was
q sight to oall forth admiration, for
everything seemed SO perfect; the
carriage itself, the prancing horses,
.thefair-haired girl, so1ike the young,
lovely mother by whose.side she sat,
!tl,a !eos'i
opposite. There was shfely no fault
to be found anywhere.
Only, to q wayfarerstanding by the
roadside gazing at them, the sun
seemed Of a sudden 10 be darkenedin
heaven the earth to have lost the
beauty Of a summers morn.
O. q.
"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 Bythorpe. But that was all.
The dust from the carriage wheels
made thick the air fora moment, and
when it cleared away the vision had
vanished.
"Who is it2" he questioned, when
he could command his voice, turning
toa villager standing by his side.
"Yon lady? Lady Edmeade. She's
goin' to Lunnon: She was daughter
of the old 'squire's," he added, "and
married Sir Wilfred Edlneade."
"Has she been married long?n
"Let US see now. Twill be four
teen years come August, for it was
the same day, mind well, as my
youngest was born. Eh, but she has
bonnie children" he murmured as he
turned away.
And Robert Sutton found himself
alone in the bright early sun, scarce
ly four hours since he saw it rise for
what was to have been the happiest
day Of his life, and already the end
had come.
He waited thus, reviewing thiss
ending to his romance, for a few sec
onds; thinking ofthe sunny-haired,
broken-heartef girl, who had clung
to him those long, long years ago, the