The Penn's Grove record., 1883-09-15

u W.
should he do with it His cheeks and
lips grew cold and white at the thought.
Merciful heavens what could he dc
with it ?
The sky seemed darkened, the
earth seemed dreary and desolate.
George Fenby and Alice Arnden,
a bare quarter of a mile apart could
not have been more wildly separ-
ated had an ocean stretched be.
tween them. And each looked on
the same landscape, and saw it alike at
last.
The village of Marsham was a small
one, and most of it was further from
the ocean than were the two houses at
the windows of which we have seen two
unhappy persons.
1t was relief to both George and
Alice that there was service in the little
church that morning, and that every
body would be looked for there.
Secret sorrow finds a certain abatement
of its intensity in the effort Of appear
ing u~nconcerned. Then there was a
mournful pleasure in seeing again what
one has lost.
In a place no larger than Marsham
every one knows everybody else. Every
one knows the business of everybody
else, in some degree, or thinks so, and
says so So our two friends were known,
and their relations to each other were
known also. And s. poorly had they
played their parts that when service
was finished nearly all their friends had
concluded that their engagement was
over. and many were specializing as to
the reason for it.
Ralph Warder was too shrewd a man
not to see what every n else saw.
He said but little about it as he spoke
to one and another after church, but he
was deeply interested and very much
puzzled. The time had been when the
gossip had connected his name with
that of Alice Arnden, and there were
those who had shaken their heads when
it became evident that she had been
won by George Fenby instead of by
him.
Ralph had never spoken to Alice of
love, and we well respect his reserve
What he cared for her may remain a
sealed book.
George Fenby walked home alone.
Ralph Warder came the same road,
but a quarter of a mile behind him.
Some distance out of the village Ralph
suddenly came upon two papers, rest
ing on the snow by the side of the
road. They had most likely been
pulled from the pocket of the owner
in removing his handkerchief. The
smaller paper had blown apart ; it laid
upon the other, and its contents we're
so brief that Ralph had read it before
he had taken it in his hand, and before
he was aware of what he was doing.
We have seen the paper before. 1t
was the brief letter in which Alice
Arnden had dismissed George Fenby.
Ralph Warder stood for a long time
with the letter in his hand.
'I've read it once ; it can do no harm
to read it again, " he said.
And he read it again-not once
merely, but a dozen times. 1t seemed
as if he was trying to draw something
from the bit of paper which he did not
find there.
After a time he stopped and picked
up the other, a long, folded document,
but the action was merely a mechanic
cal one. He did not open it to see what
it was, but with his head bent forward
on his breast and with a very grave face,
he went his way. He walked more
slowly than before !; he sometimes
stopped, and he talked to himself from
time to time.
eff this is final" he commenced
aloud, and then relapsed into silence.
"sA hinderer.'" Then, after stand
ing and thinking for a while, he went
on 'sShe never was that to him. And
she never was moody and self-distrust-
full"
He thought for many minutes now.
81 don't understand what she means
by his higher ambition His highest
ambition lately seems to have been to
win her. 1t has cost her a great deal
to give him up-any one can see that
with half an eye. And his freedom is
not welcome to him he neither want
ed it nor expected it,"
Suddenly he stood still, and a hot,
fierce flush crept into his face.
81 wonder if it is true that hearts
are ever caught in the rebound, , as
they sometimes say they are !
will"
And he clenched his hands and hur-
ried on his way.
He did not stop again until he
reached his home, where his mother
and sister were waiting for him, mo-
did he think his thoughts aloud any
| more. With a few words of greeting
| and a few more of excuse, he put hi;
| mother and sister aside for the present,
and went up to his own room.
The MONDAY sun was shining ant
making everything pleasant. Their
was a glow in the wintry air which
seemed to have a promise of summeI
in it.
He seated himself at his table, place.
Alice Arnden's letter upon it, and reas
it again. Then for the first time HI
looked at the other paper which he has
picked up. He turned it over, an'
saw at once what it was-a deed from
Bertrand Kingsley, conveying certain