The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1889-10-20

himself OF one OF Margery's unresisting
hands.
You are suffering, you are in trouble,
Miss Fernor; I'm sure of it, he said very
earnestly. 1.-THE moment you entered
the room saw that something was the
matter. Will you not grant me the privi-
lege of a friend. FOR trust you will per-
nit me to consider myself in the light of
one. and tell me what it is that is trou-
bling you? 1t is just possible that it may
be in my power to help you, or, at any
rate, that may be able, if only in
minor degree, to alleviate the burden
from which you are suffering"
Margery slowly shook her head. "No
one can help me" she said in a low voice
as she gently withdrew the hand he had
been holding while he spoke.
Pardon me-" he rejoined, "but are
you quite sure of that? Of course, with
out a knowledge Of the circumstances, l
cannot speak with certainty. But, in any
case, if can't help you--though l do not
despair on that point-you are sure of
my sympathy. 1t may seem a poor thing
to offer, but, such as it is, it will be heart
felt and genuine"
"How good you are!' exclaimed Mar
gerry in that naive, impulsive way which
was one of her special attributes Then
she turned and began to walk slowly
I the graveled pathway that led from the
( house. Her arms hung in front of her
I with interlocked fingers; there was an
/ added mournfulness in the far away look
! of her somber eyes.
"Will you not tell me your trouble
Margery?" said Gascoigne presently in a
! voice that was hardly above whisper.
1t was the first time he had called her by
I her Christian name, but if she heard 1t
| she did not seem to heed.
After walking on in silence for mo-
nlent or two longer she stopped, and
turning her eyes full upon him she said
gravely: ''Mr. Ormsby is coming home"
Gascoigne gave gasp, and the same
instant the demon of jealousy gripped
him by the heart. "lfr. Ormsbyw he
stammered. 81 don't remember to have
heard the name before"
"Of course not; how stupid of mel" re-
turned Margery. 'But / have got SO
into the way of looking upon you as a
friend that for the moment forgot how
short time we have known each other"
For an instant the young mans heart
| thrilled beneath his waistcoat, and then
the demon had him in his grip again.
| Drawing still closer to her, and looking
! her straight in the face, he said between
| his teeth: "Will you not tell me all about
this Mr.. Ormsby?"
BY this time they had reached quaint
| old summer house in secluded part of
the grounds. They had sat here on more
than one occasion already, and it seemed
only natural that they should do the same
today.
| Margery's nerves shook a little as she
sat down. She was a girl who hated
having to tell lie; in the first place, as
matter of principles; was she not rec
tors daughter? and, in the second, be-
cause she had an uncomfortable convic-
ton that lies, like chickens, have
habit of coming home to roost. STILL
occasions may now and then arise
when the truth is not all compelling,
when lie becomes not merely polite,
but compulsory When such occasions
force themselves upon you, the only plan
is to tell your lie boldly and have done
with it. This would be Margery's mode
| of procedure in the present instance.
The pith of what she had to tell Mr..
Gascoigne was as follows:
| Mr.. Ormsby was civil engineer, and
was now on his way home from Peru.
Mr.. O.'s father, who had died some years
before, and the rector had been bosom
friends, and there had been an under
standing between them that when the
boy of one and the girl of the other should
have grown up they should Deo volente)
become man and wife, To that under
standing the rector had always adhered
as if it were with him matter of honor
respecting which his daughter could not
fail to feel as he felt. Young Mr.. Orms-
| by, on his part was not merely willing,
! but anxious to carry out his fathers
wishes; in short, he professed to be deep
| " in love with the rector's daughter.
And now he was on his way to England
for short holiday, and the Rev. Dyke
was urgent that the marriage should take
place almost Immediately. "And how
can l refuse to accede to his wishes?"
| dSkeu mdISSIy WIN nilllPiC putfOo' dlld
is a very poor man, Mr.. Gascoigne. He
has three daughters younger than l, and
his expenses are growing with every year,
while my stepmother, as you are aware.
is permanent invalid. l must leave
home-I must make room for the younger
ones; should be the most ungrateful
girl in the world if did not"
Pardon the question, but you do not
love this Mr.. Ormsby?"
Il hate himl but that matters nothing.
Papa has set his heart on my marrying
him, and that is enough"
Pardon me again, but it matters ev-
erything To sacrifice you to man you
hate!-not even fathers wishes can be
sacred in such case"
Margery shook her head. There is
no way of escape; none"
'There you are wrong. There is way
of escape
She turned two startled eyes on him
for an instant, and then dropped them.
"Margery, you can escape from the
man you hate by consenting to become
my wife; unless, indeed, he added with
touch of humility, 'syou hate me as