The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1885-04-01


self-indulgent man as distinguished from
selhess woman, she was rather amused.
1t would be a go / joke for her father
when he got home. 'Yes. But there
was nothing going on there. Nothing
at all. At least nothing to speak Of
I'm not much good at the shop-win-
dows," he said, with what he meant for
lively smile. n-t
He knew, as surely as il she had told
him so, that she was waiting to meet
Stephen Harlow; and this knowledge,
and the sight of her, instead of provok-
ing instant repentance for cruel
wrong, only inhamed his jealousy, his
greed and his desire. He was misera-
bly, conscious that he did not know the
straight way TO girls heart, like his
rival; and so, as he must needs get
there somehow, crooked one had to
serve. Be it said for him that the vii
lainous plot of getting his rival out of
the field by denying him had not come
full-blown into his brain. Stephens
letter of summons, fairly full and alto
gether to the purpose as it was, had not
put him into full knowledge of the stu
alton; this he did not attain until he
reached Manchester, and learned for
himself how things were, and how they
would go if let alone; or, rather, If
given q push, to send them little more
sharply in the way they were going OF
themselves. But the seed had been
sown; and no sudden impulse could be
brought in to extenuate Farmer Mar
rish's mo" And, if he suffered any
qualms of compuncton the way back,
they were laid at rest at sight OF Pa
tience Blackthorn and her pretense OF
looking for blackberries.
"No," said Patience, thinking him
her friend, but still not caring to wear
her heart upon her sleeve for any
pair of eyes but one to see. She
wanted to know if he had seen
Stephen; but she wanted him to tell
her without her having to ask
him. mol shouldn't come to you
for the fashions. But l never looked to
see you coming from Manchester on any
but market-day."
"Oh, my dear, I've got more irons
than one in the fire; and some of them
are pretty warm-only they want look
ing after; it doesn't do TO chance their
getting cold. 1t doesn't do to put all
ones eggs into the soil-my sour place
isn't like Legs Croft, you know, where
things come up Of themselves. Legs
Croft, now, would make a mans
fortune; your fathers a tirst-rate farm
er, of course, but he don't go on with
the times. Now / dol always 60 on
with the times"
"Leys Croft will be made the most Of
now," said she. THE gentlemen who
are going to take it over"
II know" said he, hastily; "office
men two hundred miles away, and
bailiff that don't know the land. We
know what sort of farming that means
say, Miss Blackthorn, it's a sin and
shame. But Tom Rlackthorn always
was as stubborn as he's high. "
But Stephen - but Mr.. Harlow
says"
1t was only by an immense effort tina
he restrained from saying something
that would have made Patience his i'm
placable enemy. But he did make th'
effort, and only answered:
"Yes; he's sharp youth, indeed
When he's twenty years older maybe
he'll know something about a farm
VIII your father be in next market
night? / want to come over and have
crack over things. 0r-fye half
good mind TO walk over now-n-i
you're going Legs Croft way"
FRO BE CONTINUED.