The representative. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1893-1901, 1898-02-09

years Of misery Cron her, but who had once
loved her; for whose sake she had commit
ed the unpardOnable sin which no years Of
repentance and self-saerilice could expiate
and yet whom she forgave and loved still.
as women have done before and will do 70
the end Of time. He had left her to bear
alone her time of agony and her shame
and misery, and now he was dying. and in
his turn was lying uncared for and alone
weary land, weary land She set
her teeth as she stumbled over the shs rp
stones Or SANK in The hot loose sand.
All had been done that was possible and
he lay there with closed eyes-dying The
woman knelt beside him and lifted his hand
to her face. With silent passion she press
ed kisses on it and held it to her cheek. The
blood had rushed to her face and her eve.
shone strangely. She was young again
Then he looked up at her, at first with
heavy, dazed eyes, and then with a look
or recognition. The end was near and he
had outgrown surprise.
GWen! he said in a whisper, dear little
Gwen
And then. as she knelt and trembled be-
fore him. the past became clearer
Il was brute to you, Gwen"' he said
in stranger voice, "a damnable brute
Poor little girl, have you had a hard timer
great sob burst from her-a sob filled
with the unspoken misery of years. She
could say nothing. but she clutched his
hand more tightly in her shaking fingers.
Poor little girl!' he said again and his
eyes closed. She had some spirits to his
lips and gently wiped the damp from his
face, but for long he lay motionless. while
she crouched at his side. watching and
waiting The evening grew on and the
room became dark. A man shuff1ed to the
door on stockinged feet and gave her an
lll-cleaned hurricane lamp. The light shone
dimly through the smoked globe and made
(r ho6
buzzed round it. And then he looked at her
again and raised himself on the stretcher
Ihere still, Gwen?" he said with a
smile You won't leave me now, dear
Will you? l wish l could do something for
you, just to make up" he said wistfully,
but nothing can mend the past All,
Gwen, If | could only marry you! But I'm
dying, old girl -
At his words she started forward and
gazed eagerly into his gray, drawn face
Her hands were clasped beseechingly and
her words came in gasps. 'You say you
are dying. 1t can't make any difference to
you now. Marry me and let me make my
peace with God. Marry me and 1 will bless
you as long as I live" The tears were
running down her cheeks. The man looked
at her wonderingly. But am dying, dear
l can't live long enough to marry you.
Would to God l could
All wait litte-a few minutes more
beloved! just a few minutes more!" She
raised his head till it leaned on her breast.
on the heart that was throbbng to suffo-
cation.
TO her it was an eternity before she heard
quick step outside and the opening of the
door. Rutherford hes I'd it, too
I'VE won't have the burial service Just
yet. parson." he SAID. Turn back few
pages and give us holy matrimony."
Phillips thought he was wandering and
looked inquiringly at the woman's pleading
eyes.
IT'S all right. parson," the dying man
went on, impatiently. ''We want to be
married. Hurry up man. There's no time
to LOSE
Parson Phillips glanced from one to the
other; he was man VINO could understan
without asking questions. Going quickly to
the door he called in George and his WIFE,
You are Witnesses he said, briefly, and
began to read the service. Faster" NUT
tered the man, presently, and no sound was
in the room but the priests hurried muir
muir and sometimes stifed sob. Then,
when the dying man had faltered through
his VOW, Phillips pushed his book into tho
WOman's and
Read your own part he said, and fum-
bed in his pocket He drew out a small
key-ring and dragged off the keys. He held
more brandy to the white lips. "One more
effort" he said, gently, as he took the
poWerless hand in his and closed the fingers
on the ring. The weak voice grew weaker,
then slower and slower and slower, and at
last the head fell back.
Those whom God has joined together-''
The parSon stopped waling cry
broke from the woman's lips.
And the two dusky witnesses stood by the
wall, looking at the still form on the rough
bunk at the arms encrcling it, and the
hand half closed over the groteSque hoop
of rusty steel and hearing a woman's cry
ing that had the gladness Of a great peace
mingled with the pain.-Mamoose, in the
Sydney Bulletin.