Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1886-05-06

went on. "You see, l was such a dear
friend; and it conforted him to contide it
to me. And he wished you to know that
YOU had his full and free consent to marry
again if ever your heart should prompt you
to return to your early love-"
"Did-he-say that ?"
eyes. Why should he not he valued
your happiness beyond everything else.
Don't you believe this?"
eyes, yes, indeed! he was most gener-
ous-most kind"
"Ahw-a spasm as of pain crossed the
sick mans face; he turned away his eyes,
holding out his hand, in which she me-
ohanically placed her own.
'Did you love him-a lttle?" he asked
in low tone; then before she could reply,
he added hastily, ''no, I have no right to
ask you that. 1t is past-all past. But
you are sure you forgive me?"
"Forgive-yous"
81 meant him, of course. think you do.
And he said-of, yes; there was something
else. He put his hand in his breast and
drew out little package. 81 have always
worn it here" he said. "It was sacred.
Bury it with me-don't let them lose"
Susie arose, terrified; his eyes were wan
dering, and he was evidently bewildered;
was this death? She did not know; she
was about to call out, but he seemed sudden
ly to compose himself.
"Tell him to come here" he said.
"Whow
"The man you love-Morton."
C,lo 49, ~ val, rnfb
"Well, let it be so then. But Susan, you
will marry him will you not?"
~ think I must 60 now," said poor
Susie, feeling nearly beside herself. "Let
me call Mrs. Morton"
He looked at her fxedly, still holding
her hand. AS if fascinated, she return
ed the gaze-what was it in his face that
seemed so strangely familiar?
'Stay with me-" he said softly and smil-
ed.
A cloud came over her eyes. Her heart
beat almost to suffocation, and she fell
fainting upon the pillow. When her sens
es slowly returned, she found that Tom and
his mother were in the room, having enter
ed by the window on hearing the sick man
cry out. Tom was holding her in his arms
and bathing her forehead. Mrs. Morton
was bending over Mr.. Bland, on whose face
had settled an ashen hue. He no longer
noticed her, but the little packet was still
clasped in his hand.
Before morning he was dead-and his
secret had died with him. The packet
was not opened. If it had been it would
have been found to contain a likeness of
Susie, and lock of her brown hair.
Susie did not see him again, and it was
we'll for her peace of mind that it was so.
For if in his dying face she had read that
which had so startled her, the wild mo-
mentary conjecture. which had then flashed
across her bewidered brain would have
perhaps taken a definite form and shape,
from the aspect of his features in their last
repose, which would have haunted her to
her life's end. No one else read history
in it. In that quiet town he had been
little known and if strangers in adjusting
his disguise marveled somewhat that he
should have chosen to wear it, their wonder
was but fleeting, and they thought of him
afterwards, if at all, as an eccentric person
age who, for some reason which concerned
himself alone, had devised this means OF
battling inquiry, and living undisturbed
apart from the world.
81 suppose, Susie, you won't put me off
any longer, now."
A twe1vemonth had passed since the
events last recorded; during which period
various circumstances had combined to keep
the lovers apart Mr.. Bland's death had
been speedily followed by that of Mr.. Dean,
whose health had been poor for some time,
and scarcely had the household settled down
afterwards into its usual routine, when the
children all fell ill with scarlatina. One of
the little girls suffered severely from the ef-
fects of the disease, so that it became neces-
sary for her to have change of air, and
early in the summer Susie removed with
her to the seaside, where they remained
several weeks. Not long after their return
home, Mrs. Morton was summoned to dis
tant city, to stay with sick relative, and
her son accompanied her, taking advantage
of the opportunity to transact some business
which required hisattention, and remaining
in her vicinity until she was ready to start
on her homeward journey.
At last, however, everybody was back in
their old places; and now Tom had ample
leisure to renew his suit, and to press for a
settlement of the question which Susie had
so long delayed answering.
"No, Tom," she said quietly, when he
broached the subject, 81 suppose l ought
not to make you wait any longer. But l
know, and you must know too, of a serious
obstacle in the way of my marrying YOU"
"a ne,c obstacle?" Tom frowned.
"No, not new one. mean your moth
er's dislike to me. In old times she used
to be my very good friend, but all that is
changed now."
"Well, Susie, you must forgive her. 1t
isn't that she dislikes you-nobody could
do that-but of course she thought you
treated me badly, and that is why she has
been less cordial to you than before"
eyes, suppose that's natural she thinks
me tickle and heartless," said Susie. "And
it won't be pleasant for ne to marry you
against her wishes. Ifit were your cousin,
she would be much better pleased"
"Bother my COUSIN" said Tom. "It's no
use for you to talk any nonsense like that,
Susie. should never marry any one but
you-never love my mother dearly, but
twenty mothers couldn't settle matter like
this, or hinder me from marrying the girl
l love. You need not worry yourself about
her; she's too really good, and too fond OF
me, to want to stand in the way of my life
long happiness. So let US consider the
noint settIed-and the next question is when