The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1892-04-02
I JeAr3St.
Mary buried her face on hi5 breast

dearest"
Mary buried her face on hi5 breast
with the passionate cry:
1t is no use to hide it, grandpa.
cannot hide it from myself l have ru-
ined my own happiness. Three days
ago, she continued, with half sob, /
was as happy as it is possible for anyone
to be, and now"
Well?" he interrupted, with a gentle
intonation, as seating himself in a chair
he drew her to his knee. Tell me all
that has happened since, Mary"
Then in a low and self-reproachful
voice, Mary repeated all that had passed
between Jack and herself from the mo-
ment he had asked her to be his wife TO
the time he left Robin Rest.
Tt was a hard thing to believe of him,
very hard thing" was Nh Willard $
answer, when Mary finished her recital.
Yet l must confess, you had great
reason. If you had told me this before,
we might have discover d the true state
of affairs without all this heartache.
believe | should have had better faith in
him."
That is hard on me, grandpa. You
cannot think of my feelings when you
say it. | could not look at it cOollv, or
stop to consider possible mistake.
felt myself wronged and outraged.
thought he had made a sport of my affcc-
tons. For | had confessed my love for
him. l had allowed him to kiss ne, and.
grandpa, it was humiliating, so bitterly
humiliating, to remember that.
Mary covered her face with her hands
as she uttered these words.
Il understand that, Mary, said her
grandfather, kindly.
Il don't think you can quite under
stand, grandpa. No man could. And
you don't know how hard it was for me
to believe him guilty. Ny whole heart
rebelled against it. But what could
think"
You could have told me, Mary"
She sighed
Il don't think I wanted even You TO
know how weak and foolish | had been;
and | was afraid you might think | cared
more than / did. OF course, while | be
lieved what | did, l hated him.
'"Of course, my dear, was the quiet
answer.
Now hate myself for having been
unjust. Still, | had rather a thousand
times suffer through my own injustice
than through his dishonor. Don't scold
NE any more, grandpa. I've been pun
ished enough"
My dearest" he cried, pressing her
to his heart. II only wish 10 help you.
1t is too late for that
NO, was the decisive answer. Won
must not allow pride to interfere with
the reparatiOn you owe Jack, and the
duty yeu owe yourself. This misunder-
>tanding has not changed your feelings
for him."
Her face dropped
He cannot have forgotten what | said
to him, she replied in a low voice. He
may even have grown to hate me. |
can't ask him TO come back to me,
Grandpa; | can't ask him 10 do that, ii
die first"
Mr.. Willard regarded the -unmanagc-
able Mary with slightly perpleXed air.
You will tell him you misgudged him,
Mary? That is simply justice you
know"
How am 1 to do it," She asked,
anxiously. IF l should write it / should
make a fool of myself, l know, and
Let me write it, my dear; you can
trust me-
Il am not so sure, still you may write.
Don't say too much. Tell him | mis-
judged him in very grave particular,
and that am sorry, and-Oh, grandpa,
you know how to express it. But please
don't make it seem that | am SO anxious,
/ should die of shame"
Il will take care Of your dignity he
returned, with a smile.
ITO BE CONTINUED.