The Meeker herald., 1892-10-22
her heart and soul are filed with one

out OF the fullness OF her heart:
DEAR Mr.. STANFORD: Your letter has
surprised ME very mulch. scarcely know
to You is s good OF You a to o ove me as
you say you do, and love has always seem
ed such beautiful thing to me- though l
never thought that it was likely TO come TO
either my sister or me. But am very, very
glad to have had your letter, and shall al
ways be so, even if you change your mind,
for, indeed, am not worthy OF all the kind
things you say of me- Still whatever hap
pens, shall always feel happy to know
that you once thought as you have written.
Though it seems npertinent of me to adj
wise you yet think only of your good.
And am always your faithful friend.
Rum BLAKE.
She reads the letter over several
times and then shakes her head
How poorly l have said it" she
thinks. ''But he is so kind; he will
understand that mean we'll"
The curate when he receives the
gentle, humble epistle is filed with
dismay. He PAGES wildly up and
down his small sitting-room.
Somebody has played cruel,
heartless trick upon that poor little
woman. and | have to face her and
tell her SO. l would rather be
shotm
He drank his scalding tea in great
gulps, and is glad OF the pain it causes
him.
"But what am l to do? Go and
tell woman-a kind, gentle, little
lady-coarsely and brutally to her
face that she has been played with
and insulted; that | never dreamed OF
loving her; that it is impossible for
me to do so? Oh, cruel and coward
ly! How can | strike a gentlewoman,
or indeed, any woman, such a blow
as thatl'
He rests his head upon his hands
and groans.
After while he reads the letter over
again slowly. He reads between the
lines and seems to see n soul laid bare
before him. She loves him, and he re-
Allies how much that means to her.
What new flood OF light has been
turned suddenly upon that sad, un-
selfish life?
And there is no help for either OF
them. He must do it! Well, then, let
it be done at once.
Mechanically he takes his hat down
from its peg and goes out into tine
street, walking with his head bent
down, seeing hearing nothing,
until he is close to the little green gate;
then n child's clear high voice reaches
his ear.
"My g'annie made it, she says.
Amt it pity"
otis beautiful doll, gentle voice
answers. as it good baby"
"Welly dood," the child says, tuck
ing the rag doll under one chubby
al ~
Miss Ruth plucks one OF the few re-
naming June roses, one OF the pretti-
est, and puts it into the little out
stretched hand.
As she turns to look after the child
Something has to be said. so he comes
forward.
What lovely evening"" he ex-
whether it rains or whether the sun
shines.
yes" she answers. won't you
were you-will you come in?"
He follows her into the house with
an intense longing for something,
however dreadful, to happen to him
and save him from what is to follow.
Ruth takes him into the dining
room. He feels vaguely that his task
is becoming more difficult. In the
bare chill, little drawing-room he
could have said his say better. But
she brought him straight into the
sanctuary of her home, and again he
feels oddly that her life lies open be-
fore him.
There is her work lying folded to-
gether. What n tiny thimblel He
chances down Mt the bare hands; she
has taken off her ugly gloves. What
n bit of woman fora strong man to
fight What gentle life to be marred
and shattered by a bitter shame.
Still Mr.. Stanford does not speak,
but stands there before her, looking
very pale. His back is to the window
and she cannot see his face well, but
the light falls full upon hers.
81 did not show sister your letter."
she begins hesitating'y. ~ thought
had better wait-that perhaps you
would change your mind, think differ
emily about it all, and then it would
be best that only we two should
know"
She does not say word about
changing her own mind. She stands
there before him, sweet, fair woman
in spite OF her old-fashioned gown and
oddly arranged hair.
She looks Mt him with smiling,
steadfast eyes, and bids him take or
leave her as pleases him best. And
Ii courage to hurt. wound, perhaps
kill her. fails him. In n moment his
resolution is taken. He strides hastily
forward.
Ruth. do you love me?" he asks,
holding out his hands. And the calm
of her face breaks up as she sinks into
his arms.
"Oh, so much-so much!" she al
most sobs. But am not worthy OF
you. You should marry some one
ever, ever SO much better and younger
and prettier than /. Do you know"
hiding her shamed face and confessing
it as she would have confessed sin,
II am 33?"
"And l am a." he answered.
dreadful, isn't.it."
When Miss Jocelyn hears the news
she goes away suddenly on visit to
some friends.
Three years have passed, and Laura
Jocelyn is older, sadder and wiser.
She has loved and suffered and learn
ed to sympathize with others. But
she has never seen Mr.. Stanford or
his old-maid wife again.
When she returned home the mar
riaee was over, and they had gone to
| his new living.