Frederick citizen., 1895-02-15

tendant begged that should call her
came and looked at me. There was
something charming and restful about
her personality, which defies my poor
attempts at description.
WELL" she said. cheerfully-as far
as l could make out she was always
cheerful-"are you better?"
Yes, ever so much" I answered.
feeling fun of gratitude. as she smooth
ed the sheet with her cool, thin fingers.
Can you tell me. by any chance If the
mare was hurt at the same time l
was?" for I experienced considerable
curiosity on this point.
Yes, l heard your doctor say that
she got wedged In between the hedge
and the osier. 1t apperas that she
kicked SO viciously while in this posit-
Ion that nobody dared go to the rescue.
AT last they fetched saw and mana
ged to cut through the rail, but 1t was
too late. In her struggles she had In
jured herself internally, and though
they got her home after great deal of
trouble. she had eventually to be shot"
'Thirty-three pounds out of my pock-
et," I observed. though, as she would
certainly have broken my neck or her
scarcely regret the circumstance. Still,
cash is rare commodity"
Don't mind about that, when the
brute did her very best to give you
your coup de grace" said Mary.
In the mouth of professional attend
ant. this last expression surprised me
Nurse" said, I'm afraid you will
think me an awfully curious fellow,
n-,I
you think it the least impertnent, but
you are lady arn't you? You could
not be anything else" And l scrutin
ised her from head to foot scarce con-
scious of the rudeness 1 committed in
doing so.
And you are astonished to hear mo
air my French. Well, yes, am," and
blushing red as rose, she cast down
her sweet, modest eyes.
II was sure of it. Your voice betray-
ed that fact.
"Sir Harry Barrangton is my uncle"
she volunteered. MY mother, who, is
now dead, was his sister"
'Then what made you take to nurs-
ing?"
principally because had to gain my
own livelihood, and, not being particu-
| larly clever, could not earn money In
any other way, and also because l
suppose everyone has their vocation,
and nursing was mine. Ever since the
days of my childhood. the height of my
ambition has always been to tend the
sick and the poor"
"And are you happy?" I asked cur
iously, wondering how so bright a
creature could, voluntarily doom her
self to life, which, at best, seemed 10
me very depressing.
"Oh, yes, perfectly. am far hap
pier than il were going to balls and
parties. and living only for dress and
| frivolity. can't conceive of any pure
ly selfish existence being really stats
factory. In confining the sympathies to
a single object, egotism must have q
leter!orating effect upon the character. =
I looked into her serene face, and saw
that she meant what she said in all
good faith. My conscience pricked me
a little, burt she charmed me with the
charm that a thoroughly good woman
always exercises over man. no matter
how bad he may be. or how unworthy
his life. I was thirty next birthday,
and, up till now, no girl had ever made
my heart throb. Sport had been the
bride at whose shrine I worshipped; !;
but. as lay there in bed. and watched
| Mary's gentle, graceful movements
| felt the touch of her smooth hands, and
rested my eyes upon her pure, calm
| beauty, a wild passion grew up within
my breast-a passion such as few
| weeks ago, would have scoffed al,
and fell madly, desperately. in love.
YrA k1n rsr 7 l. =
nothing, or next to nothing, to marry
| on? Time passed away, and Mary,
during many of our subsequent CONVEX
sations, confided to me that she pos
| sessed no fortune in the present, nor
prospects in the future. l thought the
matter we'll over. I struggled manfully
with temptation. and arrived at the
bitter conclusion that there was but
one course open to me. namely-to flee.
So one day, when I was recovering
fast and beginning to feel more like
myself again, abruptly announced my
Intention. Mary was sitting near the
window. stitching away at some piece
of work. 1t dropped from her hands,
and she turned first red, then pale.
"You must not think of leaving this
house yet" she said, trying to steady
her voice. and to speak with her old
authority. "It would be sheer mad
ness, until the wound in your head Is
perfectly healed" Then her fortitude
gave way, and she added hurrieGly,
"Why, oh! why, do you want to go
away. Have failed in my duty?"
"I don't want to go away" answer
ed, stung out of all self-control by her
reproachful air. ION the contrary. I
would give everything l possess in this
world to remain, If could do so honor
ably. But, Mary dear. has II ever
struck you, that I should scarcely be
mortal, If I could lie here day after
day and not learn to love you as you
deserve. I do love you with all my
heart" I went on passionately, but
can't ask you to be my wife, because
we'll, because have no money. Six
hundred year is not much to keep two
people upon, as times goes nowadays. I
wouldn't mind for myself. but mind
very much for you, and therefore, / am
resolved not to ask you TO share my
poverty"
There was a long pause, I hardly
dared look at her: nevertheless I could
see that she had turned her pretty head
away, and seemed to be staring stead
fastly out OF the window. Why did she
not speak? Surely she might have
said one word in reply?
49," I resumed. TREMENDOUSLY panied
by her silence, which crushed the last
hope existing in my breast, II mean to
leave. Goodbye. Mary. won't you
shake hands?"
Then, all at once. with the color rush
Ing to her sweet cheeks, she left her
post, and raised a pair of sining eyes
20 mine.