Semi-weekly register. (Brookings, Brookings Co., S.D.) 1894-1898, 1898-10-14

| les, you are rlSnt, MISS fielnerlnS-
ton; twill do the child good, and she
shall CO." he said, as he rose to take
his leave
| But the lady called him back.
"Mr Lorraine" she said, send Mar
jorie up to me to say goCd-bye:" and
having again promised to obey her, Mr..
| Lorraine retired.
When he reached home he was rather
| relieved to find that his foster child was
out; when she returned, he was busily
engaged with Solomon, and it was not
| indeed until after evening prayers that
| the two found themselves alone. Then
Mr.. Lorraine informed Marjorie that
she was to go to her sisters house in
| Edinburgh for time. The young girl
was reluctant to leave her home, but
did not dream OF disobeying any wish
of her foster-father.
By early the next afternoon all was
done, and as Marjorie was to start ear
ly on the morrow, she, in obedience to
Mr.. Lorraine's wish, put on her bonnet
and went up to the Castle to wish Miss
Hetherington goodbye.
She had heard from Mr.. Lorraine
that the lady was indisposed, but he
had not spoken of the malady as seri-
Gus, and she was therefore utterly un-
prepared for what she saw.
She was admitted by Mysie, conduct
ed along the dreary passage, and led at
once toward Miss Hetherington's bed
room.
She's waitin' on ye." said Mysie;
she's been waitin' on ye all day"
Marjorie stepped into the room,
looked around, and theen shrank fear
fully back toward the door. Could this
be Miss Hetherington-this little shriv-
eled old woman, with the dim eyes
and thin silvery hair? She glanced
keenly at Marjorie; then, seeing the
girl shrink away, she held forth her
hand and said:
Come AVA ben, Marjorie, my bair-
ME; come ben"
"You-you are not well. Miss Heth-
erington," said Marjorie. Il am so
sorry"
She came forward and stretched forth
her hand. Miss Hetherington took it,
held it, and gazed up into the girls
face.
I'm no just myself, Marjorie" she
said, "but whiles the best of us come to
this pass. Did ye think l was immor-
tai, Marjorie Amman, and that the pal
sled finger O. death couldn't be pointed
at me as weel as at another?"
"Of death?" said Marjorie, instinc-
lively withdrawing her hand from the
old lady's tremulous grasp. "Oh, Miss
Hetherington, you surely will not
die!"
"Wha can tell? Surely I shall die
when my time comes, and wha will
there be to shed a tear?"
For time there was silence; then
Miss Hetherington spoke:
What more have you got to say to
me, Marjorie Annan?"
The girl started as If from a dream,
and rose hurriedly from her seat.
Nothing MORE" she said. "Mr. Lor-
raine thought had better come and
wish you goodbye. am going away"
"Mr. Lorraine!-you didna wish it
yersel'?"
Eyes, II wished It.
"Aweel, good-bye!"
She held forth her trembling hands
again, and Marjorie placed her warm
fingers between them.
Goodbye, Miss Hetherington."
She withdrew her hand and. turned
away, feeling that the goodbye had
been spoken, and that her presence was
no longer desired by the proud mistress
Of Annandale. She had got half way
to the door when her steps were arrest
ed--a voice called her back.
"Marjorie! Marjorie Annan."
She turned, started, then running
back, fell on her knees beside Miss
Hetherington's chair. For the first
time in her life Marjorie saw her cry
ing.
Dear Miss Hetherington, what is
it?" she said.
"'Tis the old tale. the old tale" re-
piled the lady, drying her eyes. Wont
you kiss me, Marjorie, and say only
once that you're sorry to leave me sick
ening here?"
'I am very sorry" said Marjorie; !;
then she timidiy bent forward and
touched the lady's cheek with her
| lips.
Curiously enough, after having soli-
cited the embrace, Miss Hetherington
| shrank away.
Cold and loveless," she murmured.
but, Marjorie, my bairn, I'm no blam-
ing ye for the sins of your forefathers.
| Good -hYe lassie good .hYe"