The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1888-02-24

could be sure she was his sweetheart still |
| Surely the war was special occasion which
would have warranted his writing to her.
Yet never a line from him had come.
The next morning, when the postman put
the paper in her hand, she leaned against an
old chestnut tree in the garden and opened
it and read-tirst, the names of those killed
in the battle. Thank God, thank God he
was not among themi Then, the seriously
wounded. All there it was, one of the very
first-Lieutenant John Marriott, of the Royal
Engineers He was suffering great agonies
in camp hospital-perhaps dying, or per
haps dead oh why had she not gone out
at the beginning ofthe war, with other ladies
as nurse Then she might have been with
him now, to win him back to life again
with her care and tenderness or to comfort
him until the end.
The wish was vain rs it was earnest for she
was in her far away English home and must
hurry into the school room 10 supeIintend
the lessons of her young sister, and into the
garden to see about having the autumn fruits
picked for jam-making; and dozen other
small duties, which make up the sum total of
woman's daily life.
Two days afterwards there came great
comfort for her in an Indian letter from Jack,
written some weeks before the Maiwand dis
aster, and brimful Of good spirits and hope,
| and these words were ~ the end of it:
IF get through ti.iJ 'esmpaigH all hight
and come home safe and sound, VIII my time
of probation be over then? Tel me, darling,
for indeed, indeed, am getting weaay OF il.
Aye, the time OF probation was over, but
would he ever know it?
After that jill heard nothing of him for
over six months, and although she had not
seen any mention of his death in the papers,
hope, growing less and less, had almost left
her In spite of her good courage, it was
with white face and weary step that she
went about her duties ; she, who was wont to
be cheerful in the days gone by, that she had
been called by the family, Sunshine"
She had now Il strange fancy for sitting,
toward sunset, alone, in the bay window,
where she had last parted from her lover, and
one evening-t was Sunday-haviug eX-
cused herself from going with the rest to
church on the plea of fatigue, she lay there
in II rocking chair, dreaming sweet day
dreams OF the bright, manly young face which
had looked 80 enlreatingly into hers, and
seeming to hear again his reproachful cry:
cab, Jill, ifyou cared as much as do /"
A day dream, and yet q reality, for, as she
raised her eyes, Jack, or else his ghost, was
standing beside her
But it was no ghost who flung his arm
iounu nef ueCh, anu IepeaLeu again anu again
"My darling My Jill My treasure p
ooh, Jack Jack; thought you would
never come!"
$50 did l, he said, solemnly. "But look
at me- my dear one; l am not the same
/"
Then she saw that the right sleeve of his
coat was hanging empty at his side
mo, Jack, you are not the SAME" she said,
catching up her breath, "for you are mine
now, whatever is in store for either of us.
Only forgive me for not having trusted you
sooner"
yet that was well, my love, because, you
see, il we had been promised to each other
and had come back to you like this, why
you would have felt Obliged 10 have me, and
perhaps perhaps"
IL should never have been so worthless as
that, l hope; but doing without you has
taught me to value you now, and if the lines
have been hard"
She was crying on his poor wounded
shoulder.
please God, the hard lines are over for
us both for me they are, at any rate" he
whispered, looking down at her fondly and
proudly, "for the angels are not all in heaven