The Penn's Grove record., 1885-07-04

ferers. | could not let her be there in
that sitting unhealthy air.
where is the nearest house?" | ask
ed of a porter.
''There's a farm house a quarter of a
mile Onslaught along the road" he
said. They'd take you ia there"
What was / to doP How could |
carry her a quarter of a miller Suppose
| were to drop down exhausted? She
might die Of exposurel But | could
not keep her here among all these poor
wretches.
She faltered out something about be-
ing such a weight, and implored me to
leave her and go ON alone. | laughed
gently and babe her not talk, only tell
me if | hurt her bruised SIDE. | stag
gered on. 1t was almost dark. | was
stiff and bruised from my own knock
ing about, and the heavy wind blinded
me continually. BY the greatest mercy
we met a cart, and the man III 1t prov
ed to be the farmer from the very farm
we were bound for.
1t was a tiny place, with no accom-
mediation; but the kitchen was clean,
and the farmers wife, a very old wo-
ltidii, utuuE Mis- L. dAllOlIlp no Oh ShO
black horsehair sofa. bathed her head,
plastered up her cuts, with my assis-
lance, gave her a mess of Cruel, and
covered her up warmly. She dared not
put her to bed, a. she cried and moan
ed dreadfully if her side was touched;
and | saw that the only thing 10 be
done was to walk to the town two miles
farther on and get a doctor.
She seemed terrified at the idea of my
leaving her; but | did not know what
else to do. The old farmer however
calmly told me that [ should have my
walk for nothing; there was but one
doctor in the town, and he was certain
to have been fetched to the station by
this time.
Gould one telegraph from the town."
| asked.
No; there was nothing to be done but
wait till the morning. | reflected that
the news of the accident would reach
home as o as any telegram, and L
felt certain that Frank Fairholme would
come on by the first train he could.
At last, what with fatigue and the hot
fire after the exposure to rain and cold,
| fell asleep in my uncomfortable wood
en- chair.
When | awoke, the first streaks of
dawn were creeping in through the
window. | sat up with a start. Surely
the love and agony and horror of the
past night were all a dream-I should
wake in my comfortable smoking car
rage or in my room at the Vargraves'I
No; [ was still sitting, cramped, stiff,
and aeheing, on the wooden chair, and
opposite to me was Mrs. Fairholme.
The old woman had gone to call her
husband to get the cart ready to drive
me to the station. We we're alone to-
gether, and Mrs. Fairholme's deep eyes
were wide open and fixed on me. l
started up and walked to the window,
feeling that | was "a perfect objec''
after my exciting night. AS stood
running my fingers through my unkept
locks, / heard steps behind me, She had
risen, and crossed the room with evil
dent difficulty.
"Mr. Shirley"
ooh, please lie down." was my ele-
giant rejoinder, as though l were speak
ing to an ordinary stranger.
"But / want to thank you $3.50
much for saving me-"
at was nothing" / said with ahelp-
less feeling of despair.
sit was a great kindness; and | am
better. | think am only badly bruis-
ed and shaken. Oh, do let me thank
youl'
Her left hand was laid over mine.
Where was the wedding ringf 1t could
not surely have fallen off during the
accidentl Just then something IN the
deep eyes made my heart give a sudden
throb. Carried away by an impulse l
could not explain, l threw my arm
round her and turned her head full
against the light of the early sunrise.
Her eyas were gray-deep gray, they
had been brown that morning on the
porch-I could swear It'll
Tell me,"l said with trembling
voice, while she looked up at me half
fearfnlly -"who are your Tell me
quicklyI'
IL am Ethel Fairholme."
care you marriedP Are you Fair
holmes wife?"
''Marriedp No; I'm his sistert"
My senses seemed to reel, but still L
could not understand.
"But | saw you-that day in the
porch-When | came to call; you wore a
wedding-ring and h~ad-brOwn eyesl'
ut was not | whom you saw. |
never knew you had ever been In the
house. Oh"-with a sudden look Of
comprehension-''it was Mabel you
saw!'
WHO is MabelS"
"My sister. She is married to u
cousin Grantley Farholme. He is a
sailor, and, now that he is away on a
voyage, Mabel keeps house for Frank
and me.n
"Then-he-your brother-is not
married2n
"On, no, Frank Is not married. MI.
Shirleyl''-this was a delicate hint for
me to withdraw my arm, which was
round her all this time.
"One more question:" l pleaded. ut
was you, was it not that l drove home
in the br%ougham?'
She laughed softly, a little saucily
too.
"Was it | or Mabelf" she asked.
at was YOU" / answered rapturous-
". 'tOh, my little darling Ethel. how
happy you have made mel Last night
everything seemed darkness; but to-day
everything seems light Your Frank
will marry Oracle
Are you not engaged to Miss Cas-.
tlemainepn she broke in.
ZIP No-not a bit of It'll"
ooh. poor Frank How delighted he
will bel lie thought you must be, as
she has been so cold to him lately. Are
you sure you are not at least in love
with her2'
quite sure,nI answered.
The sun had risen by this time and
was shining on my little Ethel's tired
sweet face and aureole of golden hair.
The old farmer was leading round the
cart TO take me to the station. In the
next room we heard his wife rafting
the pots and pans.
''Qulte sure," / repeated, as, won
dering at my own boldness, l took the
dainty cheeks between my two hands
and gazed into the perfect face. 81 was
not in love with any II at all; | was
just a useless fellow. with no object in
the world but to amuse myself,