The herald., 1897-12-05

And I do not deny (surely I may
write it here) that the doing of it af-
forded me many thrills of heart, the
like of which l have not experienced
oftimes on other and higher occasions.
And as I helped the Lady Mary, or
pretended to help her. rather, she con-
tinued to speak sweetly and comforta-
bly, to me. But all as it had been my
sister Anna-a thousand miles from
any thought of love. Her eyes be-
meath the long, dark lashes were cool
and quiet.
Il am glad" she said, that ye have
played the man, and withstood your
enemies even to the last extremity"
II could do no other" 1 made an
swer.
There are very many who could
very we'll have done other without
stressing themselves" she said. And
we'll knew that she meant Mr.. Boyd,
who was the neighboring minister, and
a recreant from the Societies
Then she looked very carefully to the
ordering of certain wildfowers, which,
like a BARN, she had been out gather
ing and had now set forth in sundry
fiat dishes in the table midst in fash
ion had never seen before. More
than once she spilled a little of the
water upon the cloth and cried out up
on herself for her stupidity in the do
ing of it. I discovered ever fresh de-
lights in the quick grace of her move
ments, the swinging of her dress, and
in special, a pretty quick way she had
of jerking back her head to see if she
had gotten the color and ordering Of
the flowers to her mind.
This l minded long after, and even
now it comes so fresh to me that can
see her at it now.
Il heard of the young lass of Drum
glass and her love for you," she said,
very softly, and without looking at
me, lingering at the flowers in the
shallow basins and pulling them this
way and that
I did not answer, but stood looking
at her with my head hanging down,
and a great weight about my heart.
you must have loved her?" she said,
still more softly.
II married her." said I, curtly, but
in moment was ashamed of the an
swer. Yet what more could I say with
truth. But l had the grace to add,
almost I was heartbroken for her
DEATH"
"She was happy when she died. they
said," she went on, tentatively.
'She died with her hand in mine,"
answered. steadily, land when she
could not speak any longer, she still
pressed it,
'Ah, that is the true love which can
make even death sweet" she said. II
should like to plant Lads Love and
None-so-pretty upon her grave"
Yet all the while I desired to tell her
of my love for her, and how the other
was not even heat of the blood, but
only for the comforting Of dying
girl.
Nevertheless, I could not at that
time. For it seemed a dishonorable
word to speak of one who was so lately
dead, and, in name and for an hour at
least, had been my wife.
Then all too soon we heard the noise
of Sandy, her father, upon the garret
stair, tramplng down with his great
boots, as If he would bring the whole
woodwork with him bodily.
Mary Gordon heard it, too, for she
came hastily to the end of the table
where 1 had stood transfixed all the
time she was speaking Of Jean Gem
nell.
| She set dish on the cloth, and a:
she brought her hand back she laid i
on mine quickly, and, looking up witt
such a warm light of gracious wisdom
and approval in her eyes that my heart
was like water within me, she said
"Quintin, you are a truer man than
thought. 1 love your silences better
than your speeches"
And at her words my heart gave a
great bound within me, for I thought
she understood. Then she passed away
and became even more cold and dis
tant than before, not even bidding me
farewell when I took my departure
But as I went down the loaning with
her father, she looked out of the tur-
ret window and waved the hand that
had lain for an instant uDOn mine