The united opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1881-1970, 1889-09-13

surface mere interested design on my
fortune. nothing more. And liked YOU
all 20 much, Lord Francis, that this Fec
struck bitterly homer
Francis Erldon makes no answer
How can he deny the truth of her words
And yet the evening she speaks Of seeml
to him merely q dream. 20 changed have
all his feelings towards her become II
this short time. But he sees that appear
ances are too surely against him, and
being q proud man, utters no word In hi
own defense.
IL can never tell you how great my
pleasure was when first your mother
letter reached me-" continues Janet
sadly. I'm my ignorance fully believed
that love for dead and gone school
friendship of long ago had been the sole
motive which prompted her to write tc
me SO kindly. offering me welcome tc
her home for my mothers sake" adds
the girl in sorrowful sarcasm,
Francis Erldon glances at her bravely
and says
Don't blame my mother, Miss Hard.
ing; 1t was at my suggestion she wrote
to you. From first to last alone am to
blame" And the logged resolution with
which he speaks vouches for the truth OF
his words.
~ am glad Of that" replies Janet
quietly. land now we will drop this sub
ject forever, Lord Francis" and nc
tremor betrays the inward despair that
Is creeping over the girls heart and soul.
To the last she had hoped against hope
that her lover could have honestly denied
the accusation of being fortune hunter,
and only now realizes how truly she
loves him, when pride and self respect
are forcing her to give him up.
Ali how gladly would she lay all her
wealth at his feet could it purchase him
even one hours happinessl With what
Joy would she give him everything she
possessed in the world, and clear away
all the debts and difficulties clouding his
life-could he only have loved her as she
loved him!
But Janet Hardings clear common
sense stands her in good stead now, and
though she longs from the bottom of her
heart to say, Take all, for without you
nothing can be of value to me in this
world!" she only holds out to him firm
little untrembling hand, with the kind
honest words:
II will not be your wife, Lord Francis,
for your sake and my own. But if you
will some day let me be your friend I
shall like it better than anything else in
the whole world!'
For one moment he hesitates Would
it be utterly impossible to right himself
in her eyes? Would she never in this
world know how truly he cared for her
now, and how small value her colossal
fortune held in his heart compared to
one glance from her sweet gray eyes?
But pride conquers, and he speaks no
word, SO they clasp hands silently and
each goes on their way in the world with
sorrowful regret
y
The idea of beautiful scenery is seldom
associated with the manufacturing dis
tricts of our native land; and yet here
and there, even where tall factory chin
neys reign rampant DER the landscape,
and the very sheep are blackened by
perpetual atmosphere of SCOT and smoke,
an occasional glimpse of better things is
visible, as one is hurried along by an ex-
press train ''going north"
Large, comfortable looking country
houses, surrounded by trees, peep forth
on every side; and clusters of solid, stone
built cottages rise up in numbers in. this
'pofufous part or the country, cumbering
the ground with an Overwhelming popu-
lation, that Gibbs and flows like the tide
Of the sea. And in contrast to such spots
as these, where half the world appears to
be crowding out the other half, every
now and then bleak barren moor or
endless stretch Of lonely downs meets the
eye, bidding seeming defiance to the
encroachments of "bricks and mortar"
or the leveling efforts of pillow and spade.
Eight o'clock on "a wild March morn
ing" saw Langwold Downs in all it's wide
loneliness, as Janet Harding rode slowly
up the winding path which led from the
more civilized regions below to the long
stretch of sound turf that covered the
highest parts of the downs. famous as
the training ground for more than one
well known racing stable in certain
northern county of England
An early ride before breakfast was a
favorite pastime of Janet's, and perhaps
nothing had been of greater service in
arousing her to activity of mind and
body during the keen suffering and al
ternate listless apathy of the last eight
months of her life, than this daily gallop
over the Langwold Downs in weather
fair or foul. For Miss Harding was no
"fair weather lass" and many q wander