Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1885-04-05

ment his whole life. He looked into the
| future with gladdeneC eyes.
a Joyous light dawned on Roses face.
she flung her arms about his neck.
~ have my brother back again. she
whispered.
March was sitting Saturday morningin
the room in which he had learned of the
| blind arbitrament that was to decide the
iuture OF three lives. Conscience sat near
I hlm sewing, an occupation in winch sic
! endeavereG to find relief for her over
ourdened thought. From time TO time
theY spoke wOnderngly Of the event
| which SO nearly concerned the a but THEN
interest was too deep for conversation.
/ occasionally March got up and went to
the window, from which be cast his eve
rather wearil. over the landscape as il
ne expected to see something start up
out of II. In lact they were awaiting the
! arrival or the mail. Once he saw rab-
| oit break cover. and leap for moment
I over Inc snow; chipmhrk came out OF
the stone wall and ran gaily along that
| rugged highway. Eut the servant with
his mail p0ucA was no< in sight. March
! presently said that 4 was cruel to have
! TO h?ng so much upon q better; he said
that lie felt like cordemned prisoner
oping iePrfully Tor a reprieye, ard add
ed Immediately with the sen]e Of the hui
NOR Of the affair that the whole thing WIS
absurL. Constance sILned; il was an ex,
| tremely anxious smile.
But March suddenly caught glimpse
of the boy an went quickly out and took
the little ba from him. He brought it in
ana dftppe. 1t into her lap with visit
| full smile. Then he sat down and ran his
hands nervously through his hair.
Constance took up the pouch eagerly.
"The key, OWenW she muTmured, help
lessly
She pushed her hand swiftly through
her work basket. March suppressed an
eXclam alton as she looked uncertainty
| about her. She put down her work and
went over to the mantel. AS her fingers
| touched the bit of metal she gave a low
note of pleasure.
They opened the pouch fumhlingly to-
| gether. There seemed an unusually large
mail. The letter they sought was among
the last.
Clear it, dearr' cried March, as she
| took up her penknife.
But she was willing to postpone the
! knowledge before which she began to
tremble, and, as was her custom, cut the
mot.
"YOu hold our fate in your hands" said
March, as she balanced the unopened let
ter in a low voice.
She umOded the paper. The writing
upon it appeared brief
"The lot has been taken," she read.
'''The word w3s-'Yes'"
March started up in anguish.
"Listen, dearV exclaimed Constance,
softly, "need l tell you that nothing in
my life has ever given me so much happi-
ncss?'
March gave a low cry of rage and
clenched his hands.
Constance read on through a mist Of
tears:
"Oh, read it, owenw she cried with a
/ look of bewildered joy. IL can't"
| He took it from her. This is what he
read:
cit enables me to refuse the infinite hap
! piness it offers me. You can understand
! how this replaces the trial which your
! generosity gave me and suffers me to con-
| queT the bitterest temptation l have
! known. l cannot too deeply thank you
| for forcing it upon me. 81, IS you, my
sweet grill 1t mas restored me to my
self. You once wisely refused to let me
resign, but you will permit it, am sure,
now, and help me to bind fast my poor
surrender by uniting you when the time
C mes to Mr.. March"
GLOW braveW she exclaimed, as she
slipped into his waiting arms.
For a moment they silently tasted their
bliss; the new, sweet sense Of security
was 100 y pClOQS W BG LOuCNcu even Dy
the grateful memory of MIR. keatOr. But
they came back to it almost Immediately,
and Constance said:
"HOW could such man even seem to
! fail? | couldn't understand it when he
| came TO me with ais request-in the very
act OF his apparent fall. understand IL
| less than ever"
| Glow does he know about usp' aske
! March, reasonably.
10 with sut
| chat is itr' She started away from
him. "Only TO think OF my not seeing
thatw
"What, dearY"
''That in some way he has mistaken our
relation for a betrOtnal and found that d
treason in me. Poor Mr. KeaJOrl II be
tancied that what might he moi have done
/ W hat had not given hun the right 10
/ do! Ii was a line restraint III HIM to go
no farther. And have been ignOrantiy
| blaming him! Oh, can't be toa glad,
/ Owen, that he mas made this final sacrl-
fee in the face Of that, not having learned
1 the truth"
lit givesita great dignity" said March,
1 simply.
docs it not? A dignity to which the
| best triumph he might have won over his
| first ten ptStion would be scsnty. Who
| is better than Dir. keatOr, OwenV
lie smiled in her face.
mot /, darling. 1 shall always feel my
responsibility remembering that you
| might have married such man."
/ A month later they were married. The
| rare tears were in COnstauce's eyes from
/ many causes as she went up tle aisle
upon Mr.. Euhols arm. 1t was of her
| father that she was especially thinking;
| she believed that he would be glad TO See
| her walking toward the staiWart figure
she mistly saw through her sunuscl
| eyes. The sense of her loss was over
whelminsIy poignant at the moment. But
no tears were visible as Nj. KcatOr
stopped over whea he had married them
by tue MOraVian ritual SHd reverently
| kissed her.
Ii vas afterward when she attempted
TO tell him Of his error and % thank him
! Tor the abnegation which bad made her
happiness possible that she found cause
! TO weep. But il was for joy.
Constance experience had come 10 her
as il comes rest ana most richly TO all
women. IL sas very simple at last, IL
was merely an informing, far-reachiug,
lifelong emotion. 70 her understanding
eyes IL was this which finally translated
Itself as the experience sor watch she had
once lOnged. When she was Lac March
at last she did not celebrate the event by
freshl, habiting her consciousness Ina any
wy. she was never less than the alert,
sensitive spirit which had won
! March ia the Old gG.den at
Judea; but as the little world OF
I O.. al 'a.. aarttraI. raN..ulnI