The Yale expositor., 1897-07-09

I've striven hard and hoped to become
a painter, it has all been for love of
you. l know my folk are poor, and
that in other respects I'm not match
for you, who have been brought up as
a lady, but there will be neither peace
nor happiness for me in this world I'M
less you consent to become my wife"
AS he continued to speak she had
become more and more surprised and
more surprised and startled. The
sudden revelation of what so
many people knew. but which she
herself had never suspected. came upon
her as a shock of sharp pain; 50 that
when he ceased. trembling and con-
fused by the vehemenco of his own
confession, she was quite pale, ana all
the light seemed to have gone out of
her beautiful eyes as she replied:
Don't talk like that! You're not
serious! Your Wife! | shall be nae
body's wife, as / said, but surely, sure
ly not yours"
why not mine, Marjorie?" he cried.
growing pale in turn. "I'll work day
and night; I'll neither rest nor sleep
until / have a home fit for you! You
shall he a lady-O! Marjorie. tell me
you care for me, and will make me
happy!"
II do care for you, Johnnie; 1 care
for you so much that | can't bear t.
hear you talk as you have done You
have been like my own brother, and
now"
And now l want to be something
nearer and dearer. Marjorie, speak to
me; at least tell me you're not angry"
Angry with you, Johnnie?" she re-
piled, smiling again, and giving him
both hands. "As if | could be! But
you must be very good, and not speak
of it again.
She disengaged herself and moved
slowly across the bridge. He lifted his
valise and followed her anxiously.
II know what it is" he said sadly,
as they went on side by side together
You think I'm too poor, and you would
be ashamed Of my folk"
She turned her head and gazed at him
in mild reproach.
"Oh, how can you think so hardly Of
me? love your mother and father as
if they were my own; and as for your
being poor, | shouldn't like you at all
if you were itch. But" she added gent
ly, II like you as my brother best"
IF | could be always even that
should not mind; but no, Mar rie.
you're too bonny TO bide alone, and If
any other man came and took you
from me, it would break my heart"
What nonsense you talk" she ex-
claimed, smiling again. "As If any 9TH
err man would care. If were twenty,
it would be time enough to talk like
that; but at seventeen-oh, Johnnie,
you almost make me laugh"
81 ell me one thing" he persisted;
tell me you don't like any one better
than you like r>e."
Il don't like any one half SO we'll,
except, except-Mr. Lorraine"
You are sure, Marjorie?"
"Quite sure"
"Then III bide my time and wait"
BY this time the village was in sight,
and they were soon walking along the
main street, which was as sleepy and
deserted as usual. Even at the tavern
door not a soul was to be seen; but the
landlords face looked out from behind
the window-pane with a grim nod of
greeting. A few houses beyond the
inn, Sutherland paused close to small.
one-storied cottage, in front of which
was tiny garden laid out in pansy
beds.
"Will you come in, lIarjorie?" he
asked doubtfully.
Marjorie nodded and smiled. and
without another word he opened the
garden gate, crossed the walk, and led
the way into the cottage.