Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1886-12-25

/ ~ oo|-cVnh0 AV notOs
"Some Who, Mary9 Have you-9
Ysu haven't been out Of the village,
know, since SAY you last. Who has
wounded your"
lie speaks argrily, and looks ss he
speaks, and Mary hastens to try and
remove his anger.
"Oh, never mind, please Pray
forget what | have said" she begs
earnestly, while her cheeks flush pain
fully; ~ am silly, and-and over
sensitive, as you say, and--and I'm
not used to my new life yet. l wish
hadn't said anything to you. 1t WAS
very foolish. really don't mini-at
least, not much"
"Yes, youloo as ifyou didn'tmind-
not much" he says-almost contempt
uously, she thinks. 81 think | have
never seen you 80 thoroughly vexsd BE-.
fore, Mary. Yes, it is silly to re
wounded because IA puppy like
that beg your pardon, Mary" he
says, checking himself sharply. " Per-
haps you like--still like the fellow,
mean but there. won't say anything
against him. Don't cry, you silly
girl; upon my soul know what
should like uncommonly."
ooh! Mr.. Brooke" says Mary,
obediently drying her eyes, elf it is
anything | could do for you---"
"No, no, child /; you're the very
last person who would give me my
own way in that matter" and Mr..
Brooke takes the little basket in which
he had brought the poor paralyzed mo-
Their an Offering Of fruit and flowers
from her daughters hand. GOOD az
ternoon, dear, and try little to grow
better pleased with your work and
your new home here. Your mother is
happy; why should not you be so,
toO?"
There is world of quiet reproof,
ard, as she fancies, of reproach also in
his voice as he turns rather abruptly
to leave her. This reflection brings
Mary to her senses at once. How I'M
grateful she had shown herself for all
"Let me at least know what it is
you would like" she says, ready to
CRY again at his reprooi, though she
feels she had deserved it.
81 should like to collar dear Hugo
and horsewhip him, ;" he answers blunt-
", looking her full in the face then
turns away and leaves her, aud does
not once look back as he rides away.
She was little angry with him now.
Why need he remind her that the man
who little while ago was her devoted
follower had, since her fathers death
and the discovery Of his insolvency,
never once beon near her? Mary
blushed holly as she recalled her old
friends words. Yet she knew right
we'll that if she had still been the only
child 9th rector Mr.. Fortescue you'd
probably have declared himself weeks
before, and poor Mary felt herself as
completely Tilted as if they had really
come to an understanding aud he had
broken faith with her.
Mary remembered that Mr.. Brooke
had never seemed happy in " dear HUI
go's" society, but she had never known
aim angry with her before on his az
count, and it vexed her strangely.
How much she owed him Were not
he and her poor helpless mother To-
debted to his thoughtful kindness and
liberality for house, furniture ID
GLIDING the careful selection Of all Mrs.
Bar;lemy's familiar household gods
and income.
Mary well knew that she could never
have earned the eighty pounds it
pleased Squire Brooke she should call
Der salary as mistress anywhere else,
with so much done to tighten her la
Dor and so little exacted from her in
return. Then tho sixty pounds he in
sisted on her taking as organi't was
quite an unnecessary gift out Of his
own free will. She would gladly have
PLAYED the organ and trained the vii
lsge choir for nothing had he wished
her to do so, and she was not blind to
the fact that all he wanted was to Sc
cure to her mother and herself at least
4 competency.
She went indoors and gaze her mo-
Their a bunch of the hot-house grapes
he had brought with him, placed the
flowers that had covered them in vase
close beside the invalid's chair, and un-
tied the parcel Of books Mr.. Brooke
had selected from his own latest sup
ply.
=" How good how true and un{ail-
inely kind he had been to them !"
thought she, aud blamed herself again
severely for so sellishly considering her
own wounded pride when he was try
ing his best to make up to her for what
she had lost.
She read 10 her mother till the in
valid dropped asleep declaring the hero
of the tale to be " almost as kind and
good as dear Joshua Brooke himself"
Mary could not refrain from tears at
the unwilling reproach thus conveyed
to her, and when she saw Mr.. Brooke
riding by in the cool Of the evening
she threw down her work and ran out
20 stop him.
~ want to speak to you-to tell
you something" she cried breathless-
ly; " 10 stop minute-that is, if you
have time" she added, blushing at her
own confusion and the haste IN which
sbe had forgotten her hat.
"Whst is it, Mary" he asked, dis
mounting and looping the reins over
the little garden-gate. "MOre COM
plants? Are you going to tell me that
you cannot possibly be mistress in
Ashlegh any longer? | am poor ig.
nOramus. Till to-day ! always thought
that pride felt no pain"
THAT isn't true" returned Mary,
bending her head shame-facedly as she
made her confession. II am proud,
and did feel it, but should be much
more grieved if you'll my mothers
one friend were angry with me. Please,
Mr.. Brooke, please, godfather, forgive me
for thinking more of my own trivial,
selfish troubles than Of your kindness
and goodness"
81 don't want you to think of what
you're pleased to call my Kindness"
said he--rather gruily, she thought
and pulled at Bayard's rein till the
horse startled reStlessly, and Mary,