The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1884-09-03

had at the present moment producedp
Oh, the pity Of it; the pity OF it!
Then came the bidding of adieux.
Gordon was to sleep at Little Arlesford
that night and to take his departure
by early train on the next morning. Of
the adieux spoken the next morning
we need take no notice, but only of the
word or two uttered that night. Good
bye, Mr. Gordon" said Mr.. Whittle-
stall, having taken courage for the oc-
casi0n, and having thought even of the
necessary syllables to be spoken
Goodbye, Mr. Whittlestaff," and he
gave his rival his hand in apparently
friendly grasp. To those burning ques-
tions he had asked he had received no
word of reply; but they were questions
which he would not repeat again.
"Good-bye, Mr. Gordon said Mary.
She had thought Of the moment much,
but had determined ut last that she
would trust herself TO nothing further.
He took her hand, but did not say a
word. He took it and pressed it for a
moment, and then turned his face
away, and went in from the hall back
to the door leading to the drawing
room. Mr.. Whittlestaff was at the mo-
ment putting on his great-coat, and
Mary stood with her bonnet and cloak
on at the open front-door, listening to
a word or two from Katie Forester
and Evelina Hall. "0h, wish, wish
it might have been!" said Katie For
rester.
"And so do l." said Evelina. Cant
it be?"
"Good-night," said Mary, boldly.
stepping out rapidly into the moon
light, and mounting without assistance
to her place in the open carriage.
"a beg your pardon,' said Mr.. Hall,
following her; but there came not a
word from her.
Mr.. Whittlestaff had gone back after
John Gordon. "By-the-bye," he said,
"what will be your address in Lon
don ?"
"The Oxford and Cambridge in
Pail Mall" said he.
"Oh, yes; the club there. It might
be that / should have word to send to
you. But don't suppose | shall" he
added, as he turned round 10 go away
Then he shook hands with the party in
the hall, and mounting up into the car
riage, drove Mary and himself away
homeward towards Croker's Hall.
Not word was spoken between them
for the first mile, nor did a sound of q
sob or an audible suspicion of tear
come from Mary. Why did those girls
know the secret of her heart in that
wayP Why had they dared to express
hope as to an event, or an idea as to
a disappointment, all knowledge of
which ought to be buried in her own
bosomP Had she spoken Of her love
for John Gordon ? She was sure no
word had escaped her. And were ii
surmised, was it not customary that
such surmises should be kept in the
dark? But here these young ladies had
dared to pity her for her vain love, as
though, like some village maiden, she
had gone about in tears bewailing her.
self tina. some groom or gardener had
been faithless! But sitting thus for the
first mile, she choked herself TO keep
down her sobs.
"Mary," at last he whispered to her.
"Well, Mr.. Whittlestaif?"
'Mary, we are both Of US unhappy"
al am not unhappy" she said. pluck
ing up herself suddenly. "Why do you
say that am unhappy"
'You seem so. L at any rate am un-
happy"
"What makes you SOP"
81 did wrong to take you to dine in
company with that man."
''lt was not for me to refuse to go"
mo; there is no blame TO you in it;
nor is there blame to me. But It
would have been better for us both had
we remained away" Then he drove
on in silence, and did not speak anoth-
er word till they reached home.
"Woll"" said Mrs. Baggett, following
them into the dnins-room.
"What DO YOU mean by WE'LL"
'WhaJ did the folks say to you at
Mrs. HallsP / can see by your face
that some OF them have been saying
sGmmat.'
Nobody has been saying anything
that [ KIN OF" said Gr. Whiitlestalf.
"Do you go to bed" Then when Mrs.
Baggert was gone, and Mary had list
lessly seated herself on chair. hen
lover again addressed her. II wish \
knew what there is in your heart"
Yet she would not tell him; but turned
away her face and sat silent "Havo
you nothing to say TO me-
"What should | have TO say 10 you?
have nothing to say Of that of which
you are thinking"
''He has gone now, Mary"
''Hes; he has gene"
"And you are contented?' It did
seem hard upon her that she should bd
called upon TO tell lic-to say that
which he must know TO be leland to
do SO in order that he might be en-
couraged tc persevere in achieving his
own object. But she did not quite un.
derstand him. care you contcnted?"
he repeated again.
1hon she thought that she would tell
the lie. II it was well that she should
make the sacrifice for his sake, why
should IL not be completedp If she had
ogive herself TO him, why should not
the gift be as satisfactory as il might be
made to his feelingsP ''Yesi am con,
tented"
And you do not wish to see him
again?'
Certainly not, as your wife.
"You do not wish it at ALL he re
Ill. Al 4.