The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1883-04-19

child OF the second son."
Don't mind about that, says Nor
wood. 'In my eyes too it was most
iniquitous will"
Papa was very glad to get this
portrait of his mother" says Monica
hastily. HE adored her. She did all
she knew to make grandfather destroy
his first will, and leave everything, as
was only right, to my father. She
gained her point too, but when she
died, he forgot his promise and every
thing, and betrayed the dead, as you
can see." She makes mournful ges-
ture toward the room that so painfully
betrays their poverty.
IN y father as the second son was
badly treated too," says Norwood,
anxious, he hardly knows why, to ere
ate feeling of sympathy between
them.
"Not so badly. By leaving the
property to you, and Julia the daugh-
ter of his third son, on condition you
marry each other, he provided for
both the children of the younger sons.
For me he did nothing. He never
forgave papas marriage. You will
marry Julia of course?"
She is regarding him seriously, and
he laughs little and colors beneath
her gaze.
II dare say" he says lightly. ''It
would seem pity to throw away ten
thousand a year; and if | refuse, she
gets all, and l am in the cold. As l
am heartwhole, [ may as we'll think
about it; that is, if she will have the
goodness to accept me"
''She WILL" says Monica with Ger
tain meaning in her tone. ''If she
refused she would be left penniless
too, it would all go to you, and she is
fond Of" she pauses. 81 dare say
you will get on very we'll together"
she continues hastily. "And as you
are heartwhole, as you say, it really
cannot much matter"
"What can't matter?"
"Your marrying for money"
'And if was not quite free-if my
heart owned another tie-how then?"
asked he, with an anxiety to know her
opinion that astonishes even himself.
''Then it would be disgraceful of
you, and contemplate" returns she
seriously, but without haste. Per-
haps she thinks she has spoken too
severely, because presently she smiles
up at him very softly and kindly.
And then after little bit, he says
good-by to her, and goes out into the
cleaning sunshine, and all the way
up to the grand old Court THAT may,
or may not, be his as his will dictates), |
and carries into it, not the face of the
cousin who reigns there, and whom it |
is expedient he should marry, but
soft vision glad with eyes that shine
like sapphires, and sunburnt hair, and
a smile grave and sweet and full of
heavenly tenderness.
i y
It is month later. Thirty days
as cruelty short, as days will ever be
where happiness reigns supreme
have taken to themselves wings and |
flown away.
1t is now high noon; already the
day-begins to wane. The god of
light grows weary; 'Tired nature
halts." The streamlets are running
YEARLY, as though fatigued with the
exertions Of the day, now almost past
''It is the earth's siesta-even the
bee flags in his deep and dull monoto-
n.y." All the morning George Nor
wood has toiled assiduously after his
cousin at the Court; Las followed
from greenhouses to Conservatives,
from Conservatives to orchards, the
he has been taught he must
marry, if he wishes to keep up his
good fellowship with the world to
which he has SO long been known.
Now, when evening is descending, he
mas escaped from his duty, and has
flung himself with deepest, intensest
relief at the feet of the woman he
ought to marry, with whom indeed
will mean social extinction.
He met her half an hour ago in this
little shadowy valley, where the dying
'unbeams are playing at hide and
seek among the branches of the trees,
and where tiny rivulet is isping,
md stammering as it runs lazily over
is pebbles.
Monica. having thrown aside her
luge white hat is sitting on a little
mound, with her back against beech
tree. She has taken her knees into
ner embrace, and just now is looking
At her cousin from under heavily lash
I'd lids, that seem barely able to sup
port themselves, so languorous is the
hour, and SO contented her spirit.
Her companion can scarcely be said
TO be looking as free from care as she
IS; there is slight suspicion of weari-
ness in his eyes, his manner is some
what tinged with a depression very
foreign to it, which as rule is of the
lebonnaire order.
'Anything the matter with you?"
asks Monica at last.
Eyes, any amount of things"
"Well-go on-say them all over
it will do you good,' suggests she
sympathetically.
Not for worlds--at least, not for
many reasons. It would bore you; it
wouldn't cure my case: and hesides,"
with half laugh, my worries are of
the kind difficult to put into speech"
THAT means they are nothing but
fancies.''
Does it?" Then leaning back and
placing his hands behind his head, he
turns his eyes slowly upon hers. Il
wish I had never come down here" he
says deliberately.
"Whatr' cries she, leaning toward
HIM Has Julia proved unkind? or
is it kind Won't she marry you?
Or will she?"
"Nonsense! said Mr.. Norwood
pruff]y ST WASN'T thinkino of .Jnlia.n