Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1882-04-13

was natural that she should feel lit
tie afraid of this unknown lady, Adams
mother, but that fear was the only
shadow on Mattie's path. 1t was an
idyl, q poem, as true love story rs the
world has seen, that had written itself
here in this out-Gf-the-way spot on the
lonely Sussex Downs.
On the third day they might look for
Adam to return, but that day passed,
and many another, until the days were
weeks, and the weeks months, and he
neither came nor wrote. Matte re-
membered how when she had turned
to look back for the last time upon that
homeward walk, she had seen his fig
ure distinct against the sky for an in
slant, and the next lost it entirely as he
passed out of sight over the swelling
lines of hills. Just so she seemed to
have lost him in one instant out of her
life. And yet she never lost faith and
trust in him-never ceased to watch for
his coming again.
Drew, after time, either goaded to
the step by his sisters loud-volced ar
guments, or prompted to it by his own
sense of what was due to Matte, not
only took pains to ascertain that the
marriage was real enough, but the fur.
ther pains of searching for and finding
the address of Adam Armitage in Lon
don. 1t was strange how this girl and
her former master both trusted Adam
in the face OF his inexplicable silence
in the face of even more omlnous dis
covery made by Drew when III town
the discovery that he had never men-
toned Mattie's name TO his mother, or
alluded to Matte at ALL AS for Adam,
Mrs. Armitage had declared he was not
with her then, and that she could not
give an address that would find HIM,
an assertion that confirmed Matte in
the idea that he had SO often spoken to
her.
As autumn passed and the evenings
grew chill with the breath of the COM
ing winter, Mattie's health seemed to
fail. The deep melancholy that OPP
pressed her threatened to break the
springs of life. In order to escape Mrs.
Bankes the girl took to lonely wander
ings over the Downs wanderings that
ended always at Stonedene until, with
the instinct of wounded animal that
seeks to bear its pain alone, or from
the ever present recollection OF the last
words of Adam. when he said 1t was by
way of Stonedene that he would return,
she besought the farmer to send away
the woman IN charge Of the house and
allow her to take her place.
Drew yielded to the wish OF the wife
whose heart was breaking with the pain
of absence and the mystery of silence,
and Matte on this foggy day had al
ready lived months at Stonedene, on
the W wltch always for the coming of
Adam.
The fog increased instead of dimin-
ished with the approach of evening.
Drew could not see his own house until
he was close to it as he had remarked.
the mystery of Mattie's affairs was not
more impenetrable than the veil hiding
all natural objects just then. When he
had put up the horse and gone into tea,
Mrs. Bankes, as she hustled about pre-
pairing the meal which Mattie's deft
little fingers had been wont to set
with SO much qnietness as well as celer-
ity, did not fail to greet him with the
question:
"Well, how is she? ?"
''She" had come to mean Matte in
the vocabulary of the farmer and his sis
ter.
about as usual in health, Drew re-
piled, lifting the now fve-years-old
Harry to his knee, "but troubled in
mind, though to be sure, that is as
usual, too"
'She is out of her mind" exclaimed
Mrs. Bankas, irritably.
Everyone but yourself knows that
and if you do not know it, 1t is only be-
cause you are as mad as she is-or any
one might think SO from the way you
go on"
NAY, nay" said Drew gently, as the
butter dish was set upon the table with
vehemence that made the teacups rat
tie. There are no signs of madness
about Mattie-unless you call her trust
in her husband by so harsh name."
Husband A pretty husband, in
deed I've no patience with him, nor
you neither. AS if it were not con-
mon tale enough! 1t would be better
to persuade the girl to come home
and get to work again than to en-
courage her in her fancies, while you
pay another servant here-and times so
hard as thew are.
"I was thinking to-day" the farmer
went on, softly passing his broad palm
his knee, 81 was thinking as came
along of how it stands written He
that loveth not his brother whom he
had seen, how can he love God whom
he hath not seen 2
At that moment the shadowy form of
some one gong to the front door passed
the window, against which the fog
pressed closely. Drew set little Harry
on his feet, and rose slowly, listening
with intentness and o surprised look
that made his sister ask what allied him.
"Rover the dog does not bark;
wholly the mercy of heaven, it Is the
man himself p cried Drew, as the door
opened with suddenness that caused
Mrs. Bankes to drop tho plates upon
the brick floor. For Adam Armitage
stood upon the threshold. Adam, pale
and worn, shadow of his former self,
but hiuself unmistakbly.
Adam looked around the room SIS
though seeking some one, smiled in his
old fashion at Harry, gave q half-curi-
Gus half-indlfferent glance to Liza
Bankes, and he turned to the farmer.
Drew" he said simply. "where Is
my wife ?"
'"Mrs. Armitage is waiting for you at
StOnedene sir There WAS some talk