The Middlebury register and Addison County journal. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1883-1885, 1883-08-24


1t chanced she brought it to him.
you are a brother of Mrs. Marbury
Bell?" she asked, quietly, as she
handed him the letters.
1t was all over; he read that plainly
as he looked up in her face. 1t was
naught to him that moment, her frank
look of disappointment, the bit of real
trouble she scarcely meant that he
should see, seeing that they should be
strangers forevermore. Howard Ralph
was t. be nothing to her, whatever
had been Mr.. Rolfel
Plain, so plain, and yet he could not
blame her. 1t was his own fault; he
should have been frank with her at
the outset; she might have believed
him then. But how have been frank
without be;ng-ridiculous
What to do? She certainly would
not believe him now, however eloquent
his explanation; strong as his passion,
he strangely shrank from it. The one
thing was to go away, to relieve her
of his annoying presence, and, per-
hans, further day would come
He could not; he would not. The
fiat was eternal, he told himself, and
yet-wlat to do? The miserable days
dragged slowly; he scarcely dared
speak to Marion Herndon, and she
barely spoke to him. He rambled alone
these days: even the dog deserted him
for her. 1t was an exasperating stu
aticn, and yet, he could do nothing but
wander up the mountains heights and
through the pretty valley, wondering
if she cared.
Did she? No. Always the same
answer, uncompromisng prompt.
That look of hers was but the pain
born of fresh deception, unnatural,
nor strange. More than ordinarily he
was realizing this that morning he
strobe up st. Philips mountain. des-
perate, scarce looking where he walked
--on, on absorbedly till
His foot struck empty air; vision
of rocks, blackness. and he lay sense
less on the cliff below. In the mystic y
betwixt life and life. till suddenly what
he fancied an angels wing brushed his
forehead, and the faint music of a
voice fell on his ear.
"Can it be that he is dead-oh, no
1t cannot be, it must not be; l will not
have it so. Oh, Nero, good dog, go
and fetch them; go and bring help to
me. Do you not see 1 cannot leave my
darling here; the only man IL ever
liked"
The voice faltered the speaker
started with little shamed, despair
ing cry, for the man beside her had
opened his eyes, and was gazing at her
bit da ed, yet with a growing look
of rapture which told how well he
knew.
Marion !"
She could not even hide her face,
this poor Marion Herndon; for faint,
yet stunned rs he was, he had started
up and clasped her hands in his.
"You must not call me Marion,
shn gasped, despairingly land you
must forget those words 1 said. /
cannot help that 1 said them, and
and am glad you are net hurt, but
| do not care # you do love me now;
you know why you came to st. Philips;
because-because-you gave in at last
to Mrs. Marbury Bell; you-"
But she was talking between his
kisses now; he had taken her in his
arms, and was fondling her-ah, SC
tenderly, but deliberately, as though it
were the most positive of things. And
she, strange girl, was permitting it
even while she spoke.
"Do you know why | came to St
Philips?" he interrupted her.
She did not answer, she was too
ashamed of her own happy self to say
any more to him. He held her closer
while he tod her what the reader has
already guessed-of the sweet face he
saw in the car that day, the face that
held his eyes that long journey through
that drew him, despite himself. out OF
the car after the little girl that owned
it so mad his soul to lose it. Could hi
help that little girl was Marion Hern
don?
This and all the rest he told her
sitting there. What woman will no
believe lover in a lovers arms? Sh,
looked up at him in gentle amazement
but with tender eyes.
lis it not a pretty summer romance
dear?" she murmured.
"My Marion -
Words could wait but not kisses
that moment thought Howard Ralph
So fate helped Mrs. Marbury Bell.