The free press., 1893-07-06


81 should only make you wretched.
l want you to give me up, to forget
me, Shelah."
"Give you up, Jen? Give you'up,
lass. Give up my life-ask me for
that, Jen, but don't ask me to give
you up, sweetheart, for do SO love
you, my dear"
Jennie's lips quivered and her eyes
began to fill with tears, but she kept
| her face to the window.
alt would break my heart to marry
you," she said, "for love some one
else"
"You love some one clse?" said
Shelah, mechanically.
eyes, and he is going to marry me.
So you see, Shelah, it would be wrong
for me to marry you. [ should be
always miserable aud wretched and |
should make you miserable and
wretched, too; so please, dear Shelah.
let me go and-and forget me-" She
ended with a sob.
White and still sat Shelah; then
heavily and wearily he rose. Jennie
uncovered her face for moment. At
the sight of his she hid it again. "For-
get you lass" he said, 81 never can.'
Moved perhaps by the thought of what
might have been, he leaned down and
J gently pressed kiss to her forehead.
"'But if giving you up, lass" he pro-
ceeded huskily, '.will make you happy,
Jen"-thcre was an agonizing ring in
his voice-why, / give you up"
When she looked around again he
was gone.
All that night it froze hard and the
calm sea lay moaning like dog on
his chain. Shelah heard it as he stood
in the lonely sentry-box of the life
| boat lookout. In the morning the
frost bowed blades of the sea-grass
had changed the dunes into a great
glistening bed of white choral.
As usual ,Shelah called at the "Ship"
| for Tom ReeEs. He had barely en-
tered when he heard horses hoofs
on the hard road, horseman reigned
up at the inn and Shelah drew back
.x.lo r. &c Jn1, 4
Jennie who spoke. She stood white
and trembling on the cellar tseps.
"Will-will you take him this?"
Strangely fascinated at being called
upon for such an act, Shelah took
from her the measure of ale, and,
| like q man in q dream, carried 1t to
tho door. A loud "lIemp caused
him to start and look up. Instead of
the young brewer, he was facing the
old one. The elder Rivington looked
at the ale as doctor might look at
his own medicine. ''No, my man."
he said, | don't care for anything so
early as this. If you'll have the
goodness to hold my horse while l
dismount. Thank'ee. Tether him
there-will you? | want TO see the
landlord. Is he IMP"
Before Shelah could answer Reeks
gave evidence of his bodily presence
by appearing at the doorway. The
brewer walked in, followed by
Shelah. Rivington, senior, was a
pleasant, chatty old gentleman, and
he soon disclosed the object of his
visit. A ball was going to be held at
Herringbourne town hall, and he was
distributing invitations TO such of his
tenants as chose to attend. AS he
was passing--quite by accident, he
assured them-he felt he ought not to
miss the landlord of the "Ship."
There were the tickets and he hoped
that Reeks and his daughter wonld
attend.
81 forgot to mention," he said
bIandly, as Reeks, after expressing
his thanks, took them up, "that ihls
ball is to be held in honor of my son
Cyril's marriage. lie is to be married
this week to the daughter of a very
old friend of mine-a man OF heht.
As he finished, low, sobbing cry
startled all but Shelah. A tea-kettie
had ratified TO the floor, and Jenny
stood vacantly staring INTO niue
lake of the split liquid at her feet.
uWhv. what's the matter, lass?"
said Reeks. "you look as white as a |
ghost.'
"Nothing, father" she answered
family, ''nothing only the heat OF the
tro