The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1884-08-01

age" IL he repenjoy7'' rhineas Finn,
the Irtst MEMBER g The Wdrd1a,"
"Barchcster foiceTs,'' Etc, Etc.
CHAPTER vI.-CoNTlNUEp.
~But ii person is fool, what's to
he done then? In course I'm fool. l
knows that very we'll There's no say
ing no other. But can't go on living
here, if Miss Mary is to be put over my
head in that way. Baggett has sent
for me, and must go. Baggett is at
Portsmouth. Arranging on about the
old shop. And he'll be drunk as long
as there's gin to be had with or without
paying. They do tell me as his nose Is
got to be awful. There's man for a
poor woman to 60 and spend her saw
ings on! He's had Almost all on 'em
all, ady. Twenty-Five pound fqur-and-
=sixpence he had out O. me the last time
he was in the country. And he don't
do nothing to have him locked up.
sAin't there to be no way out of it?"
1t was thus that Mrs. Baggett told
the tale of her married bliss-not, how
ever, without mourning the censure of
her master because of her folly in re-
solving to go. He had just commenced
a lecture in which he was prepared to
show that all the evils which she could
receive from the red-nosed veteran at
Portsmouth would be due to her own
stiff-necked obstinacy, when he was
stopped suddenly by the sound of a
knock at the front door. 1t was not
only the knock at the door, but the en-
trance into the hall of some man, for
the hall door had been. open into the
garden, and the serva4 girl had been
close at hand. The library was at the
top of the low stairs, and Mr.. Whittle-
staff could not but hear the demand
made. The gentleman had asked
whether Miss Lawre was living there.
.sWho's thatp" said Mr.. Whittlestaff
TO the hcusekeeper.
''It's not voice as l know. sir" The
gentleman in the meantime was taken
into the drawing-room. and was closeted
foc the moment with Mary.
We must now closet ourselves for q
few moments with Mary Lawrie before
the coming of the strange gentleman.
She had let Mr.. Whittlestaff half an
hour since, and felt that she had Sec
-ond time on that day accepted him as
her husband. and now she must do the
best she could to suit her life to his re-
quIrementS. Her first feeling was one
of intense disgust at her own weakness.
He had spoken to her of her ambition;
and he had told her that he had found
a place for her, in which that ambition
might find fair scope. And he had told
her also that in reference to John Cor
don she had dreamed dream. 1t
might be so, but the continued dream
ing of that dream would satisfy her am
bition better than those duties which
he had arranged for her. She
had her own ideas of what was due
from and to a girl, and to her her love
for John Gordon was all the world.
She could not have been made to aban-
don her thoughts, even though tine man
had not spoken to her. She knew she
loved him-even though time might
come when she should cease to do so,
that time had not come yet. She vac!l-
lated between condemnation OF the cru
city of Mr.. Whittlestaff and of her own
weakness. And then, too, there was
some feeling of the hardship inflicted
upon her t.y John Gordon. He had
certainly said that which had justified
her in believing that she possessed his
heart. But yet there had been no word
on which she could fall back and re-
gard it as promise.
1t might, perhaps, be better that she
shonld marry Mr.. Whittlestatf All her
friends would think it to be infinitely
better. Could there be anything more
moonstruck than Tor a penniless girl to
indulge in dreams of an impossible
lover, when such tower of strength
presented itself as Mr.. Whittlestaf?
She had consented to eat his bread.
lucky she had been to find a man so
willing and so able to maintain her.
And now this man did undoubtedly love
her very dearly, and there would be.
las she was well aware. no peril in
marrying him. Was she to refuse him
because of soft word once spoken to
her by young man who had since dis
appeared altogether from her knowl-
edge? And she had already accepted
him on that very day. And there was
no longer hope for escape, even # es-
cape were desirable. What fool mnst
she be to st there, still dreaming her
impossible dream, instead of thinking
of his happiness. and preparing herself
for his wants! He had told her that
she might be allowed to think of John
Gordon, though not to speak of him.
She would neither speak of him nor
think of him. She knew herself, she
said, too well to give herself such lib
'erty. He should be to her as though
he had never been. She would force
herself to forget him, if forgetting lies
In the absence of all thought. 1t was
no more than MIR. Whittlestaff had
right to demand, and no more than she
ought to be able to accomplish. Was
she such weak simpleton as to be I'M
able to keep her mind from running
back to every little personal trick of
one who could never be anything to
her? "He has gone forever" she ex-
claimed rising up from her chair. "He
shall be gone; viii not be martyr
and q slave to my own memory. The
thing came and is gone. and there is an
end of it" Then Jane opened the
door, with a little piece of whispered
Information. please, miss, a Mr..
Gordon wishes to see YOU" The door
was opened a little wider, and John
Gordon stood before her.
= There he was, with his short black
hair, his bright, pleasant eyes, his mas
terful mouth. his dark complexion, and
broad. handsome, manly shoulders, such
as had dwelt in her memory every day
since he had departed. There was
II, Il, l..