The Penn's Grove record., 1885-03-07

trembling with intense emotion, Clare
saw, as she knelt down by her side.
maggie, Maggie, WHAT ails you2"
''Clarepn Her hands dropped from
her face, which she vainly sJro to
bring back to its usual Jalmness. She
rose slowly. why have you come
here? Who sent your she asked
iercely.
81 came to see you, No n sent me
What is it, dear2 What sorrow have
you which [ do not sharefi'
Nonsense l was a little hysterical
that's all. foolish cih!d-grieving be-
cause Robert is away" Mrs. Armain
returned with a laugh--such a laugh
1t made Clare shddder.
"Your face is more truthful than
your voice, Maggie. 1 know you are in
trouble-can't l help you to bear it2
Don't you remember when we were
childrenpn
GOOD Heaven" Mrs. Armain ex-
claimed wildly. ''do you wish 10 drive
me mad? / must forget l ever was a
child, ever anything but a lost woman
lost, lost for this world and tine nextl
Don't touch my hand-don't come near
me, Glare. l sold myself once for
wealth, and found my golden s.rvitude
was misery /; now | sell myself again,
body and soul, honor and far anne for
a little happines Loose my hands,
Clare. Get up"
mo, mol Maggie, tell me what |
think isn't true. Tell me I'm false to
all u old love, to the love | bear you
now, to think you could sin so deeply.
Maggie, Maggie, tell me Pm wrong,
for Heavens sake, for your angel
mothers sake, for the sake of our happy
childhood-tell me it isn't truel5
For ore awful momenT 1heTe was ST.
lence in tue room where Clare knelt at
her cousins feet. Then Margaret Ar
main unclasped the hands that chung to
her, and answered.
SIT is. Get up and go home. You
cannot, shall not ave me, You will
never see me again-neverp'
Clare did not rise or speak--a dumb
chill horror had crept owe her; her face
grew cold and rigid, and With a low cry
she fell forward upoa the floor, uncon-
scious.
Mrs Armain lifted her up and laid
her upon q couch. AS she bent over
her in terror, the curtains parted and
Captain Morrison entered. A hot flush
rose to his face as be recognized Clare.
Even her white still face had power to
reproach.
us she Il12 Has she fainted2"
Margaret turned 10 him. For a mo-
ment she could not speak; and never,
g such agony as was written on her
face.
''She is dead, / think - she said. IN a
strange hard tone. 81 have murdered
her by telling the truth. 1t needed only
this.n
For one moment Captain Morrison
bent over Care.
Ring for helpi Twill 90 Tor a doc
tor and the Dean.n
He had left the house the next Ing
stant, CT his way to Dodington.
>
1t was dusk before Jack returned to
the Court. In the hall be met the doc
tor, who ans wered sadly the young mans
questioning look.
''She is dying, Captain Morrison; she
has broken a blood vessel"
Dying, doctor?"
The answer was interrupted. Mrs.
Armain came down the wide stairs to
Jacks side.
''She wants you. Doctor, you are
not going?"
~ shall stay here tonight, Mrs. Ar
main" he answered graVely.
She bowed and turned again to Jack.
Come" He followed her up the
stairs, but at the librarydo she stopped.
'I had nearly forgotten must tele-
graph to Mr.. Armain."
Jack watched her while she wrote the
few words and gave directions to the
servant, in wonder at her calmness.
"You must be very quiet,p she said,
as she Joined him again and led the way.
Once more she stopped at the door of
the chamber of death. The Dean was
praying with his daughter.
Something in the old mans voice
touched Jack Morrison more than all.
and in an agony of emorsa and sorrow
he knelt down by the chamber door and
wept. Margaret looked at him wonder
ingly, but she did not speak. There was
a movement IN the room. Margaret
heard Clare's voice, and she opened the
door and entered. The Dean silently
clasped Jacks hand, aud led him to the
bedside.
'she wants to bid you good. bye, the
old man faltered.
"I am dying, Jack. Oh, Jack"
She stopped; her eyes spoke the rest
all her fear and pain and sorrowful
shame.
He bent over her and kissed her.
"You have saved us, Clare; you have
lost your life to save u.s."
81 am glad, - she said family. She
closed her eyes for a little, and then she
spoke again. "Jack, won't you try to
be a good manp We were always like
brother and sister. Won't you try to
meet mi Ia Heaven"
II will swear 1t, Glare. Heaven
hel cling me, 1 WILL"
Margaret was standing by the bedside.
At these words she spoke.
81 cannot promise to be q good
woman, but l promise, dear, to be a
true and faithful wife,"
Tnere were few words after this.
Through the evening the three watched
in the silent room where death already
cast its shadow. Towards midnight
another came to join them-Mr. Ar.
main. Glare knew him. and called him
by his old familiar name.
"You will be kind to Margaret,
Bob2'
Those were her last words, As an
other day was born she died quietly,
without a struggle.
Directly after the funeral Captain
Morrison left Dodington for India, He
had thrown up his commission and ac-
cepted an appointment N the City Of
Palaces
Many years have passed since then.
but Jack has not revisited his native
land. He is a rich old bachelor, and
many councils are held Ia D0dingtoa as
to who viii Inherit the money he has TO
leave.
The gosslps talk too of the probable
heir of the Court, which has become
very much neglected. Mr.. Armain has
no children-a fact that accounts in
many minds for his worn, wretched
face and the faded beauty of his naughty
wife. Day by day they are counting
the cost Of marrying without love,
At raSt within The Ouiet clOisters lies