Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1895-02-17

way, leaned girl, her brown hair lit
m by streaks Of gold, and her gray
ewes, gazing Wistfully at the sunlight,
az she dreamily wondered what life,
with all its mystery, would hold for
her.
"Who wrote this story?" he demand
ed abruptly
81 did, Mr.. Barrould. That is to
saw, wrote it at mothers dictation."
"You what Tell me about it, girl"
the editor cried, hoarsely.
And then Miss MackGy gave her story
in brief. There was no asking for SYM
patty, no craving for help; by few
short sentences Mr.. Barrould was made
aware OF how her father had trited
away and squandsred his fortune, and
died while shs was yet child, leaving
his widow almost penniless; bow the
mother had struggled on and worked
in order TO support herself and chllo,
and how yet more serious calamity
had oyertaken them, that OF Mrs Mack
avs sight falling gradually until arlast
she became totally blind: how they had
managed TO gain little by Mrs. Mack
avs stories, and how now Jessie was In
her turn, doing her best TO work for
them both.
"Ah," he said, when she had finished.
II never knew she was married. But
Mary blind youlsay-little Mary blind?
But the typist did not catch the
words: she had resumed her tapping on
the Keys.
Does your mother know you came
to me?'' he asked.
She answered in the Affirmative.
HAS she ever spoke Of me? II
knew her once-long ago-betore she
was married"
But no, the girl never heard Mr..
Barrould's name mentioned. Was he
sure it was not another Mary Ogilvie be
had known? Her mother had never
spoken of the friendship, as she Would
surely have otherwise done.
Miss Mackay," he said, very SUD
denly, "are you aware that il is very
dark, darker than usual, this afternoon?
Suppose | were to see you home? You
have q long way TO go and our paths 90
not lie apart so very much. "
"Oh, I could not think of troubling
you Mr. Barronld; thank you so much
all the same. l shall be quite safe
Aud then, too, Mr.. James sometimes
accompanies me most Of the way. lie
lives near us you know"
Mir. Barrould coughed. He didenot
know; ne knew very well that James
lived In quite another direction, quite
close to the editors,s own house In fact
Miss Mackay," he said, in despera-
ton would you mind If / wore your
escort this evening instead or Mr.
Jane? IL should Ike TO see your
mother"
A long way it was, too, or it seemed
so TO Mr.. Barrould, but at length they
stopped ia the narrow street and Miss
Mackay led the way up countless stone
stairs, right to the very top fiat.
A woman sat by the FIRE. She must
have been pretty once, but now she was
faded and weary life bad gone hard
VITA her But to Mr.. Barrould she
was still young and beautiful; she did
not seem faded, AS they entered she
raised her head and turned her sightless
eyes in the direction of the door
lis that you, Jess? You are home
earlier tonight, dearie, are you not?
MIR. BarrouId took step forward
Mary, my beloved. Is II too late?
Can you forgive me after all these
years." He fell on his knees by the
chair.
Jack she said tremblingly, feeling
vaguely for his hand, Jack"
Jessie could not understand it all,
but she slipped out OF the room and
closed the door softly behind her.
Half way down the stairs she met the
sub-editor, who, was coming up to ask
her a question that he had been trying
to put for some time but for which ne
had always lacked The courage.
Then they went for walk, and when
they came back the sub-edtor had as
important an announcement TO make as
the editor. Commercial Ca
zette.