The Washington critic., 1886-04-17

Mary replied, looking into her fathers
face. 81 will marry this man for your
sake, but he must not expect affection,
for have none to give. Tell him this,
that he may not be deceived"
II will bring him here tomorrow
evening, for he is anxious that the in
terviow shall be over"
Mr.. Meredith was relieved; the fear
of disgrace was removed from him, and
he Ieioiced in the prospect of pros
porous marriage for his daughter.
On the following evening Mary again
sat by the drawing-room fire. She was
alone and calm, but her face was pale
as Parian marble. The outer door
opened and she heard the sound Of foot
steps in the hall. Once more the image
of Felix arose before her. cold shiver
passed over her and unbidden tears
rembled in her eyes, but by great
| effort she subdued her agitation before
her father and the man about to buy
her with his gold entered the drawing
| ROOM.
Mary arose and extended her hand;
| II was cold as ice, but did not tremble.
| She glanced ut Mr.. Ambrose and saw a
man Of medium height with brilliant
dark eyes; a neatly trimmed beard con.
| cealed the lower part of his visage. He
greeted her politely and took seat. A
| short time was spent in conversation,
but gradually silence fell upon them
which was becoming oppressive when
the visitor broke the spell.
"NIiss Meredith" he said, in a soft,
low tone, you are, of course, aware
of the object of my visit here? Par
don me II | speak plainly"
| Mary looked up but made no reply.
Mr.. Ambrose's voice was so kind and
gentle that she thought he deserved
wife who could love him.
"Your father told me you had no
| love to give me, but that you will
marry me. too, once thought l
! should never love again, but the sight
| of yon has dispelled the illusion. Let
me tell you my story. Long years ago
l loved beautiful young girl and she
returned my affection. | was young
then, and did not dream that fate
could crush out my soul dearest hope.
That fair girl was my all, my very life,
and had not thought of the future
separated from her. Her father was
wealthy merchant and his poor clerk.
When told him l loved his daughter
he spurned me from his door and or
dered me never to enter 1t again. Oh,
who besides myself can ever know the
utter midnight of my blasted hopes !
Crushed and broken, l fled in my de-
spair. In the whirl and excitement of
business l strove to forget my sor-
rows. Fortune singled me out as her
especial favorite. My widest specu-
lations were successful, and money ac-
cumulated as if by magic. Thus eleven
years passed. / returned to the scene
of my unhappiness and saw you. Need
say that all the old love surged up in
my heart again. Once more asked
the old merchant for his daughter,
the speakers lips trembled, he extended
his arms as he continued, "and he con-
sents at last. Mary will you now be
miner"
Mary cast herself into her suitor's
out-stretched arms. After all these
years of mystery Felix was restored tc
herl
"Felix Trafford gasped the old mar
as he started to his feet. "Felix Traf'
ford, my old clerk.
Eyes, sir; the same. Do you retract
your promise?"
mo, Felix, no. Take my Mary and
forgive her father"
The happy suitor led Mary to seat
and sat beside her, with his arm still
encircling her, as If he might lose her
Let u.s." he said, forget all the
past but its joys and look to the future
for what true love can give us. am
now content, and you, my Mary, are
you happy in the restoration Of youl
lover?'
"Ah," she replied, in voice full o.
deep emotion, Happiness is too poo
word to express my great joyp'