The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1890-08-10

nav >cn every line upon ~.
lyon mean, then, said the other man
slowly. chat you would rather that
Myra were dead than that she w3re still
alive? You, who say that you loved her!e
"Why go back to all that, Arnold2'
said the other soothingly; 4 did love
Myra; If she had lived should doubtless
love her still; in any case no second love
ever ia like the first. But as a matter of
fact 1 have believed he to be dead so long
that should find il extremely inconven-
lent to discover her alive. | don't love
Myra now nd--I want to marry Con-
stance Hilton"
And SO they parted, Bernard Hard
ing riding swiftly homeward through the
shadows of the lane, and Arnold Grey re-
turning slowly and with dragging foot
steps into his lonely house.
"And l who would have hunted the
whole world over but for hope however
faint of finding her, he muttered broken
ly as he fastened up the shutters of his
window and went slowly upstairs to his
bed.
By and by, when it was all dark and
still, when the moon had sunk to rest and
the night was closely folded in thick
mantle of rest and stiffness, something
"a mere shadow crept from beneath
the deep shelter of the vicarage hedge
and dragged itself YEARLY to the door Of
the house
Here, upon the threshold, it sank down
and down till it lay in huddled mass
upon the doorstep. 1t was the form of
woman.
Hours went by. Presently the first
gray glimmer of morning lghtened the
dense shadows of the night.
The woman raised her head and SHY
cred. The red shawl that covered her
dark head fell back, disclosing a thin,
haggard face that, in spite of its prena-
turely aged and worn appearance, still
retained traces Of great beauty. Her
large eark eyes, filed with unutterable
woe, fixed themselves upon the faint
CLEAN of the dawn in the eastern sky.
Poor Myra," she murmured in low
plaintive voice. Poor Myra; she is
dead; she died long ago--long ago, in the
days when she was happy; then she died
SO that he might be rich; now she dies SO
that he may be happy, but he will never
know. She had no soul; it does not mat
ter; she is better dead-better dead!a
By and by life began to return to the
silent world, little breeze stirred the
fluttering leaves, the birds awoke and
began to chatter in the branches, and
presently the great golden sun famed
forth in his glory above the edge of the
distant horizon, but the first human face
in Stanton parish that his long level rays
rested upon that morning was one that
could never more be reused or warmed
into life again, for it was the face of
dead woman.
At the doors of Stanton hall very early
that morning the parson stood knocking
and ringing, and Bernard Harding, who
was always up betimes, himself opened
the door at his summons. The clergy
mans face was pale as ashes, and there
was the shadow Of a great and dreadful
awe in his dark eyes.
stCtreat heavens, Arnoldls cried Hard
ing, fearing he knew not what, as his
eyes took in the terror stricken face, the
disordered dress and the evident agitation
of his early visitor, something dreadful
has happened? What is it,"
He drew him hastily into the house.
''Myra is deadr' said the other with a
long, gasping breath. It was indeed the
refrain to which heaven and earth seemed
to be set to Harding's ears.
''Dead?" he repeated vaguely, not IN
Outstanding.
Il found her this morning dead upon
my doorstep
Good Godl Myra-Myra! Upon your
doorstep"
''She lay upon the very threshold, her
poor dead face against the ground, her
beautiful eyes closed for ever. Oh,
she is changed, Be1nard!-changed al
most past belief" he cried brokenly, hid
ing his face in his hands.
Great heavensl she has not died of
starvation cried the other, stricken to
the heart by sudden agony of remorse.
mo, no, not that. But it is perhaps
even worse. I fetched the doctor at
once; her lips We're stained and blue; in
her'clenched hand he found some crush
ed berries of deadly nature. M ira has
poisoned herself"
"What for? In heavens name what
for? Why has she hidden herself all
these years, only to come home at last to
kill herself"
.'It is what we shall never know in this
world" answered the clergyman with a
deep sadness. II think she has suffered
much, and | know that to those who
have snfferpd i51foite mercy shall he