The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-06-14

he found That he, too. was under the
Spell and that 10 would rather be cog
dsn1ned for life to the solitary with
breed and water than pass that life with
cut her. And what was be that be
should darc
AS he sat there on the doorstep his
head fell forward on his knees and Il sob /
escaped him full OF anguish. In the
next mosacnt sorne one sui down beside
him, q hand stole into his. and Annie
was whispering solne indistinct. COM
forting murmur. How could he help
returning the clasp OF TINT little hand
with an unconscious strength of grasp
that was almost pain, suddenly raise it
to his lips and cover it with kisses, and
as suddenly fling it from him as though
its touch had stung him, and then, see
ing her withdraw, startled, grieved.
hurt, turn and snatch her to his wildly
beating heart and hold her as If they
were one body and one soul.
"Oh, what have | done, what have /
donep no cried, as he opened his arms
and released her. 81 love youl love
you! and / must leave yon. must go
away from here, for can never marry
your
But for all answer little Annie had
only chung to him the closer, her face up
turned on his shoulder, with its appeal
i ing eyes, the red lips parted, the blush
going and coming, the trembling smile
melting to one Of tenderest sorrow.
II ought to have gone before it came
to this!" he said. II have been meaning
to go, day after day. And | could not,
/ could not! Ny will was strong, but it
could not drag my feet after mei7 He
disengaged her clasp, and took her face
between his two hands, his great gray
eyes looking into hers long and passion
ately. kiss mer he said. sOnce. For
the last time. And now forget mel"
He told Mrs. Sibley that night that as
soon as Mr.. Sibley returned from his
western journey he should have to leave
them.
sLeave us. Johni' said she. what
for?"
tits about time" he answered, care
lessly. My travelling cap is on"
ssBut John-why, joint Are you dis
satisfied? Isn't Mr.. Sibley doing right
by you? Has anything has anything
made you unhappy"
Unhappy he said, with an air Of
surprise. ssOh, I'm not unhappy" he
answered, with look in his eyes that
made her heart ache.
But MIR. Sibieys journey was long
one, into the timber district of west
ern state. When he came home, six
weeks later, be found very different
condition Of things from that which he
had left. The men were in the woods,
the camps supplied, the new year promis-
ing to open web, and all had been or
dered and attended to by John. But
John himself was sleeping in the count
ing room, and as he did not go up to the
house any more Mrs. Sibley was send
ing dinner down to him; and Annie, his
little wind flower, looking as If the wind
could blow through her, had grown into
the white shadow OF herself, large eyed,
pallid and frail, not as flower, but as
the ghost Of a flower.
They were alone in the warehouse next
day, the porter and the boy having gone
home for their incoming.
.'rve been waiting for you to come
back, sir, said John, in voice meant
to be calm, but which sounded in his
own ears as hollow as if it came from an
| empty shell. Because / must take my
turn now. It's the close of the year. |
find that cannot be with you another
year.
..You mean you want little rest and
change? Certainly" said Mr.. Sibley
fussily. Certainly. That's right. I've
been advising it. you know. How long,
say?'
sFor-for good and all, Mr.. Sibley. /
II can't work here any longer"
"JohnI9
''No, sir. You see yourself I'm only
! good at anything for about so long. I've
grown reckless. must CO."
81 don't see anything of the sortr'
roared little Mr.. Sibley.
Yes, sir. | thank you for your good
ness to me. It's been more than you
think; more than you can ever know.
Tit breaks me all up--to go, but
must
Look herem cried Mr.. Sibley, 81 al
| ways said there was an out about you. if
! / could only find it. And here it isl
| What is this bee in your bonnet? John
| lis it's it AnnieY he said in differ
ent tone, one that had all fathers ten
derness in it, because if it is'-as
| there came no answer-s'that's all right.
ST. cannot-marry her. sir" with
| down hung head.
"You can't marry my daughter, sir"
began the master, and he stopped, thun-
| derstruck, to comprehend the statement.
| Then, "You can't marry my daughter,
sirl" he cried again, flashing himself into
rage ssI should like to know what's
the reason you can't marry my daughter!
Do you mean TO say that you came here,
a young whipper snapper from nowhere,
a nothing, "A nobody, and break my
daughters heart, and ruin her life,
and"-
stop, stop, stop, Mr.. Sibley" cried
John, as white as ashes. II should ruin
her life, indeed, if stayed"
He waited moment, looking his en-
ployer full in the face-as Mr. Sibley
afterward told his wife-as fixed as if he
were a saint carved in marble among all
those bales and barrels II meant to